St. Vincent Review: Art-Rock's Modern Flagbearer Tentatively Continues Reign

Somerset House, London

“That’s the only thing we’re here for: love.”

Embraced in a collective outpouring of love amongst Somerset House's audience, the art-rock specialist recites her journey of illustrious reincarnations with tentative conviction.

St. Vincent has always engrossed herself in the art of reinvention. Whilst such career-spanning reiterations are nothing groundbreaking within the music industry, the last decade or so has allowed Anne Clark to shape-shift: wiry art-rock architect to hyper-stylised pop provocateur and, most recently, a shadowy, industrial-prog alchemist. Her latest record, All Born Screaming, is her seventh and among her most sonically abrasive; a molten mixture of distortion, pulsing synths and unflinching theatrics. “That’s the only thing we’re here for – love,” she declares midway through the evening, and yet the atmosphere she cultivates tonight is as much menace as it is warmth.

The sold-out Somerset House courtyard makes for a striking setting – stone walls standing stoic against the warm summer's air – as a rubbery bassline saunters into 'Broken Man'. Clark emerges with her band, moving with a feline patience before unleashing vocals that hiss and simmer over jagged distortion à la Nine Inch Nails. 'Fear the Future' and 'Los Ageless' follow; the latter proven as one of her most magnetic singles to date, its exalting chorus prompting a communal singalong (“How can anybody have you and lose you?”) as she writhes in sync against the prickly electronics.

The decade-old 'Birth in Reverse' remains a riot – all effervescent art-pop bite and bounding energy – before the plush synths of 'Pay Your Way in Pain' give way to elongated, almost agonised vocal screams beset by Clark's abrasive vocal theatrics. Moments of All Born Screaming land well in the open air: 'Flea' thrums with wiry urgency, 'Big Time Nothing' grinds with unblinking intent, and 'Violent Times' stands out entirely, its horn samples and strained yet soaring vocals gifting us something both theatrical and raw.

There are dips, ultimately, the outro to 'Cheerleader' collapses into a superfluous drum solo, and her latest record's title track feels like an oddly predictable closer, its brooding crescendo lacking the voltage of what preceded. But there are also flashes of pure connection, none more so than during 'New York', when Clark wades into the crowd, carried aloft in a collective embrace of warmth and summer night air. By the encore – a hushed 'Candy Darling' – the evening has been rendered into something sweetly tender.

This is St. Vincent in her current incarnation: uniformed, tightly wound, leaning heavily into the scorched textures of ‘70s hard rock refracted through her modern lens. It’s a mixed showing: the set peaks with the bite of Masseduction cuts rather than her newer material but the performance underlines why she remains a flagbearer of experimental art-rock and pop. Even if she’s not at the apex of her powers, her grip on the crowd, somewhat tentatively, remains.

6.5/10

St. Vincent's latest LP, All Born Screaming, is out now via Total Pleasure Records and can be found below. Photo is courtesy of Virginie Viche whose work can be found here.