St. Vincent plays the role of "pretty", pretty well

Find me a man who wouldn’t at least cringe slightly when left no other choice than to describe something as “pretty.” It’s not necessarily a descriptive word that would fall in line with the male undergraduate’s “lingo machismo.”  But I implore you, jockstrap; try thinking of a more comprehensive way to put St. Vincent’s delicate, falsetto vocals and her supplemental, playful and often marginally experimental sounding musical accompaniment into words.
The Brooklyn based indie songstress (birth name Annie Erin Clark) performed this past Wednesday, Feb. 10, within the wooden walls and deceivingly spacious interior of the Belly Up Tavern. With credits earned through various involvements with relevant artists, including a stint playing guitar for The Polyphonic Spree and multiple shows logged as part of Sufjan Stevens’ touring band, Clark has forged for herself a well-established standing in the alternative music sphere. This, along with two critically lauded full-length albums no doubt helped to draw a sizable Wednesday night crowd to the Belly Up, an oft unjustly overlooked Solana Beach venue. With quirky Swedish guy-girl duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums tacked onto the bill as openers, north San Diego appreciators of the gracefully offbeat and the sardonically beautiful were set to momentarily lose themselves inside a cocoon of temperamental sound.
The openers took the stage with a brief self-introduction and before manning (and lady-ing) their respective instruments, which in their case included a drum set, a soundboard with pre-recorded instrumentals and a Caribbean-style steel drum. It was up to Wildbirds & Peacedrums to prove to this discerning critic that such an instrument could set an appropriate tone without being situated on a tourist infested Jamaican beach, with a pina colada in hand and Natalee Holloway nowhere in sight. That it did, to a considerable extent. The use of obscure, post-modern themes and tools for creation lies somewhere near the bedrock of the blog-bred and Coachella-friendly alternative sound. Where many fail in this respect, Wildbirds were able to transcend cultural contexts behind the instrument, utilizing its soft percussion as a balmy background for an unpredictable brand of edgy folk music.
The bi-gendered twosome transitioned from cutesy snap n’ handclap jingles into more aggressive bass drum onslaughts through live de/reconstruction of their own material. Their rollercoaster musical continuum made it difficult for less Wildbirds-savvy audience members such as myself to discern where exactly one song was ending and the next was beginning. However, I was left with a lingering sense of respect for what could be construed as cohesive verse/chorus-oriented compositions.  
What was unclear at the time would soon reveal itself, as St. Vincent announced their presence through a wider variety of instruments/instrumentalists but with a similar here-nor-there delivery; clear and present stylistic parallels between supporting act and the supported. Clark took the stage with physical appearance, which clearly matched her vocal delivery: frail but graceful, pale but prominent. Immediately impressive to most anyone coherent enough, despite PBR tall cans beckoning from their wooden perches, was  each band member’s ability to operate multiple musical instruments well enough to fit saxophones, clarinets, and flutes snugly with guitars, drums and keyboards within the same song.
Clark and her accompanying band are one of a rare breed able to make something listenable and even a tidbit catchy out of a barrage of opposing sounds. Soft, comforting vocals helped sedate their restless and spontaneous cacophony into something at least mildly pleasing to the ear. Crowd pleasers “Jesus Saves, I Spend” and “Paris is Burning” were met with captivated attention and subdued swaying of bodies, but the singular most rewarding moment of the evening came when Clark cleared the stage for a solo performance. Her sweet and emotionally driven rendition of former Velvet Underground member Nico’s “These Days,” brought a brief moment of solidarity and the entire house into captive silence before returning to fullon St. Vincent-ism, erratic and unpredictable but all-the-while gratifying.
Their music is almost worthless to hear about without at least a couple tracks worth of prior listening, especially in the context of a live performance. Give a listen to one or both of St. Vincent’s LPs “Marry Me and Actor” to get a more solid idea of what you can personally draw out of a landscape of sound and musical influence. Chances are you’ll find at least something pleasant, or at the very least, “pretty” enough to satisfy.