Mary Rozzi
Singer-songwriter Leslie Feist
Dallas Leslie Feist paused before her second song Tuesday night and surveyed the darkened space before her.
"I'm here to determine if you are too comfortable in your chairs," she said to the gathered throng inside the Majestic Theatre. "You're looking a little too comfortable."
The end result? A roomful of fans obediently rising to stand through A Commotion, a selection from her latest record, Metals. It wouldn't be the last time the Canadian indie pop singer-songwriter played puppetmaster with the willing attendees (not quite a sold out show, but a quick glance around the beautiful space suggested it was darn close), imploring them to sing multi-part harmonies or applaud her references to Friday Night Lights. (A few audience members decided to stand the whole night, forgoing the plush seats.)
Feist's animated, chatty stage presence forced the often self-absorbed Dallas breed of concertgoers out of their comfort zones, into a realm of (gasp!) audience participation, enriching already dense and deftly performed tunes that packed more of a wallop than you'd expect. She also defused the perception that her often intense, emotionally raw songs would make for an evening of harrowing introspection, instead of what the night ultimately was: lighthearted fun, with the occasional chiaroscuro chaser.
Much like her contemporary, the Dallas-bred St. Vincent, Feist doesn't shy away from guitar licks that make you catch your breath, married to an equally dazzling singing voice, which rang out in the near-perfect acoustics of the Majestic. Armed with a six-piece band, which included buzzy Vermont trio Mountain Man as her back-up singers (the three women had a show-stopping moment, when Feist sat down on the stage and had them perform their own acappella tune, Bright Morning Star), the focus was simplicity -- an irony given the density of the music being made. The backdrop was simple: a video screen initially featuring abstract images, but later in the show, close-up images of the band members, rendered in a distinctly vintage music video fashion.
Metals was the evening's primary focus, with much of the 90-minute set given over to the new LP and its songs, particularly the muscular The Circle Married the Line and the absolutely stunning Graveyard, which Feist dedicated to her father, Harold, a San Angelo native who was in attendance Tuesday ("I guess that makes me a Texan?" the younger, female Feist wondered aloud). Although Feist did not play That Song (her inescapable smash hit 1234, the impetus for her 2007 breakthrough), she did reach back into her catalog and dust off a few favorites, among them Mushaboom and My Moon My Man.
I'm sure most people filing into the Majestic Tuesday were expecting a relatively subdued evening of baroque pop music, performed with verve and skill. It would be hard to argue that anyone didn't get exactly what they came for, but, in a most welcome twist, they did not receive it exactly as they expected. Sometimes, surprises can make for perfectly lovely nights out.
