Panda Bear, Methodist Central Hall Manchester, 2nd December 2011 7.5/10

A friend and fellow blogger has just written about taking a break from live music after a truly transcendent show. These sentiments are relevant to my review, since I found myself standing on the front row for Panda Bear in Manchester still on a high from a remarkable Zola Jesus concert. It's fair to say that whilst this was an unusual and inspiring evening of music making, it didn't quite have the revelatory effect on me that Zola Jesus did.

Panda Bear still created quite an event: on a night when Rihanna had filled a nearby stadium, he attracted hardcore music enthusiasts from far and wide. Pandas are a rare species, and it had been four years since Noah Benjamin Lennox had last played in Manchester. I'd seen him earlier this year at Coachella, as part of an Animal Collective set, but this was my first experience of his solo project. He apparently told the promoters in advance of this gig that he's not likely to return here for at least three years: perhaps it was the thought of setting up the vast array of analogue and electronic equipment which almost filled the stage. Noah's from Baltimore, but moved to Lisbon in 2004 because it was 'a slow moving kind of place'. His art is the type which requires mental preparation: you need to cast aside contemporary life and open your mind to submission to art, in the same way you might approach a modern art gallery.

Religion somehow came to the fore tonight. The event itself was held in a Methodist Church Hall in Manchester, a fine location chosen for its 25 foot screen with a triple projection system. The absence of alcohol there was a reminder of my own non-conformist upbringing: as a son of the manse its influence on my life is inescapable. Noah himself majored in religion at Boston University because of his interest in the 'concept of God'. His singing, bathed in a haze of artificial reverb and natural echo from the large hall at times reminded me of the celebrant's chant at Westminster Cathedral: it was ethereal and timeless.

The support act, Stellar OM Source from the Netherlands gave an insightful interview which eloquently expresses some of my own feelings about great live music, continuing the spiritual theme:

Those feelings of attaining something higher in joy, in the mind, in the body, and climbing and wandering in those zones, transcendental states... I hope people will feel so energized, empowered, transported, and so uplifted by intense esthetic and physical pleasures. 

Christelle Gualdi's performance was akin to a DJ set, except that I witnessed her manipulating the music more freely, and her body language spoke volumes of her immersion on the electronic sound worlds she was creating. Her proto-techno, acid house influenced compositions are wholly instrumental; but what was lacking was not so much the voice as the atmosphere of the crowd dancing, and a light show. She's clearly incredibly gifted, but I'd love to hear her work in the context of a rave, not just as a passive witness.

In contrast, my overwhelming impression of Panda Bear's set was sensory overload: it was a hypnotic experience, with stunning visuals and lighting, copious smoke, and a mass of electronic loops, echoey beats and Noah's haunting, indistinct vocals soaring above the space. It was minimalist and repetitive, yet anchored by his profound sense of melody. The intention, and effect, was to place you in an altered state: there was no option but to submit. This was a full on experience, requiring concentration and close attention, rewarding you with real beauty. Much of the set was from his masterly Tomboy album released in April this year, which is more stripped down than 2007's Person Pitch, yet with greater impact and bite. This bear has more bite than a chill wave artist, and gives a more physical experience.

Make no mistake: Panda Bear live is a one-off, must see event, and in this relatively small venue had a more intense effect than Animal Collective on the main stage at Coachella. He was aided by Peter Kember (known as Sonic Boom) who produced Tomboy, but compared to Zola Jesus, I missed a sense of audience engagement. Whereas she interacted in a close and remarkably powerful manner with the crowd, Noah remained in a trance like state, often with his eyes closed at the back of the stage. This made it a more intellectual and less psychologically engaging experience; I was more of an awed observer, and less of a participant. Even so, at times I could barely see through the smoke and strobe lighting, and I closed my eyes, revelling in the magical sonic beauty.

Stellar OM Source (support act)

Videos

EMA, Zola Jesus Manchester Academy 3, 24th November 2011 9.5/10

I'm writing this the morning after a mesmerising show, emotionally exhausted from an intense, psychological experience. Even if you don't read any further, do consider going to a Zola Jesus gig: I hope that like me, you will be captivated. Her fan base is still relatively small, at least in the UK, but intensely loyal. An informative Wikipedia article describes her music as synthpop, gothic rock, electronic and experimental rock, but in order to understand her appeal you need to look more widely at her persona and performance art.

For once, the support act was well judged: in fact despite not having heard of EMA previously, I now hope to go to one of her headline shows.  Erika M Anderson, from South Dakota, has a striking appearance and is an accomplished user of blogs to engage with her fans. EMA blends musical styles: often even within a song there are grunge, goth, and country genres. She's immensely energetic and committed, and deafening noise and whole body vibrating bass combine to create an almost overwhelming experience. As with Zola Jesus, you won't be checking Twitter or thinking about work during her performance: this is all-consuming. Leif Shakelford is a virtuoso electric guitar player and keyboardist, whilst a second guitarist and drummer added to the shattering mix. What I love about this performer is the sense of liberation: she holds nothing back, and despite the dark nature of much of her music, is evidently having fun.

Zola Jesus is sometimes bracketed with Lykke Li (I enjoyed the Scandinavians recent performance in the same venue too), and whilst there are some stylistic similarities, her sound is unique. Nika Roza Danilova chose her provocative stage name to show the futility of religion, and yet she didn't pursue an operatic career owing to battles with stage fright. Her new persona is deeply conceptualised: she's studied philosophy and is an exponent of situtationism where art is represented through one's life and music. Some might say that this elaborate construction serves as protection for her nerves, but happily it has remarkable effects on her performance.

More than anyone else I've seen, Zola Jesus understands engagement with the audience, not by superficially chatting with them (all she said was 'thank-you Manchester') but on a deeper psychological level. By the end of the hour long set I was almost in a trance, absorbed by the almost primeval atmosphere. She achieves this engagement in part by her stagecraft, including amazing use of arm gestures and dancing. She also approaches the very edge of the stage, touches the hands of audience members, and enters the crowd to dance and sing amongst them. Her expression was captivating, and in this small venue, stood right at the front of the stage it was an all-enveloping experience.

The backing band remains anonymous, clad in black and dimly lit. They consist of a drummer and three keyboard players, equipped with Macbooks: this an electronic sound devoid of guitars but no lack of bass. Zola Jesus' voice adds soul and manages to combine power, belying her diminutive stature, with purity and a sense of vulnerability. As you'd expect given her classical training, she is pitch perfect and technically an amazingly consistent vocalist. You could accuse her music of lacking variety: the mood between songs (and between her albums) is similar, yet I feel this is part of her plan. I wished the gig could have continued all night, as I'd almost been hypnotised, and the spell would have been shattered by a mellow acoustic number.

I have go back to the experience I had with Warpaint at The Reading Festival this summer for another performance which was so emotionally powerful, capturing my attention to the total exclusion of all else. The atmosphere was similarly mystical, connecting with the soul at a deep level. I've admired Zola Jesus' recent album Conatus, but it didn't prepare me for the intensity of her live performance: like Portugal. The Man, she's a performer whose recorded work can't really do justice to their talent. It seems appropriate that on Thanksgiving Day, two American performers only added to my gratitude for the exceptional power of music.