The beginning of summer is a perfect time to latch onto new music, and that’s exactly how I began my obsession with Janelle Monáe. Back when the days were just starting to grow longer, and my street was alive with the sounds of people grilling dinner and kids playing in the alleyway, I stumbled across the video for Monáe’s song “Many Moons”. Thus began a summer love that continues to blossom even as the nights grow longer and the folks on my street begin to settle into hibernation. Monáe has a sound unlike anything I’ve heard yet this millennium, and she’s all over the place when it comes to trying to stick a genre or label onto her. I was ecstatic when I found out that she would be opening for Of Montreal here in Buffalo, and had been looking forward to Sunday’s performance at Town Ballroom for what felt like ages.
Of Montreal, in various incarnations, has existed since the late 1990s. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve probably heard a bit of their music, even if only in the form of the catchy jingle for Outback Steakhouse restaurants. (Of Montreal wrote the melody…Outback tweaked the song and changed the lyrics.) The band has been a staple for indie-pop music lovers for over a decade. Both Janelle Monáe and Of Montreal’s lead singer Kevin Barnes have created similar personas–quirky, freaky and slightly unsettling beneath their colorful and infectious sounds. Of Montreal and Monáe collaborated for a track on her latest album, The ArchAndroid, and Monáe appears on Of Montreal’s latest album, False Priest.
Sunday’s crowd was young and happy, kids wearing their most creative outfits and jumping at the chance to dance their hearts out. Janelle Monáe performed a swirl of songs before Of Montreal took the stage. Their set was filled with visual stimulus: people in sparkling and checker-printed bodysuits, staged sword fights, and a writhing, horse-like animal made of people hidden beneath a blanket. Lead singer Kevin Barnes mounted and rode this living heap across the stage. Masks were used liberally. Crazy concealment seemed to come in all forms for both acts, whether through the creation of a persona (Monáe’s alter-ego is Cindi Mayweather, the android on a mission, while Kevin Barnes has Georgie Fruit, a funky she-male with a past), comically large skull-head masks, or through some of the darker lyrics hidden within the loudness and lightness of the music. Of Montreal frequently contrasts their clubby, infectious style with a rare lyrical depth. Monáe’s lyrics hold deeper themes as well, and many of her songs seem to focus on repressed identity, and the desire to escape the stifling expectations of society at large.
Somewhere in the middle of the popping visual imagery, flamboyant costuming, distorted vocals and thick bass tones, conceal turned to reveal. This technique isn’t new, of course. It’s the same excitement and liberation that has been felt at carnival celebrations and masked balls for hundreds of years, and Of Montreal have certainly become masters at this art. A chaotic freedom swelled from the amplifiers, bursts of white feathers rained down upon the crowd, and the stage became a dance floor for the members of Of Montreal. Monáe reappeared onstage as well, and a myriad of musicians aided in creating the wonderland-like feel as violinists, keyboardists, guitarists, drummers, bassists, and a good smattering of tambourine action melded together. I would have loved to heard “Make the Bus”, the Bowie-like confection produced by Kevin Barnes and featured on The ArchAndroid, but it was missing from Sunday’s set-list. Though other songs were performed, the focus was on Of Montreal’s latest album, False Priest, which was just released last week.
The show ended on a high note with Monáe and Of Montreal jumping into a medley of Michael Jackson hits. The king of confused identities himself, Jackson’s songs fit right in, like a frenetic burst of fireworks at the grand finale of a Fourth of July show.
Of Montreal puts on one hell of an act, lit from within by energy and just the right amount of hipster sensibility, but I didn’t feel entirely at ease after all was said and done. The strange and slightly disturbing imagery, the excessive visual stimuli and bizarre masked dances left me in a haze, like I’d just woken up from a weird dream. The freedom that comes with donning a mask is never permanent. My body was exhausted from dancing, but my mind was reeling from the performance, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be feeling.
One identity that proved its solidity was that of Ms. Monáe, who lived up to the musical pedestal I’d placed her on at the beginning of the summer. Monáe’s voice is both strong and vulnerable all at the same time, as evidenced in her rendition of “Smile”. She and Of Montreal make a bizarre and beautiful team, however I look forward to the day when Monáe comes back to Buffalo not as an opening act, but as the name on the marquee. Her voice and stage presence are clearly up to the task.