Warpaint
Virgin Mobile Corona Theatre
October 7, 2014
The air inside the Corona Theatre was humid and stale; the smell of mature beer wafted amongst the crowd in the jam-packed venue. Inside the women’s washroom, it was nearly impossible to find a spot at the sink. Girls fixed their lipstick, filled their bar-cups with liquid from hidden flasks, and screamed half-recollected lyrics at the top of their lungs. Warpaint had yet to play, but the anticipation was apparent. Making one’s way toward the front of the stage was a constant brawl, thrusting through very drunk, mildly belligerent, middle-aged men alongside young women dressed to the nine’s in 90’s goth-pop attire. The crowd was noticeably rowdy for a Tuesday night.
The four women finally traipsed onstage looking celestial and in control. They opened almost immediately with “Feeling Alright,” Theresa Wayman voice sounding out of tune and disjointed. High-pitched feedback spewed from her monitor, but she persevered and her vocals smoothed out – her voice was velvety and soothing by the end of the track. They moved straight into two tracks from The Fool: “Composure” and “Undertow.” Emily Kokal purred along with Wayman – their choral symbiosis was utter perfection. Undeniably captivating, Jenny Lee Lindberg swayed violently with her bass, sporting an army green jumpsuit and a pink half-pony. Stella Mozgawa smacked her skins with discipline and mastery; she is the band’s hidden gem, sitting pretty behind the other three women as well as her gigantic kit.
Warpaint’s live show was most captivating in the moments when their songs extended beyond album length. Most tracks spanned vast distances in all directions, with improvised guitar riffs, drum rolls, and vocal harmonies. Each was completely enrapturing and exquisitely performed. In these moments, both band and audience lost themselves in the divine power of sound. The crowd vibrated, collectively buzzing and bouncing in time. At certain points during their set, there were evident, near deafening, sound issues. Unexpected, distressed noise rang over their arrangements; the women glanced at one another for reassurance. Kokal seemed to strain her voice, unable to hit the required high notes, sipping on a mug between songs. Their single “Love is to Die” received passionate praise – almost every other person sung along with eyes closed, in complete ecstasy. Wayman spoke to the audience often, charming and tipsy on the energy that was reflected back at the band, plus whatever else she had consumed pre-show.
Their encore was explosive. The theatre rattled, feet pounded, and whistles blew in unison until they finally reappeared from backstage. They played crowd favourites “Billie Holiday” and a drawn out, embellished version of “Burgundy” that sent the audience into rapture. It seemed as though the song would never end, Mozgawa especially energetic on the drums with Lindberg hovering over her, playing bass with feverish momentum. It finally halted, without warning, each woman uttering a quiet “thank you” and disappearing offstage. The crowd was ceaseless, but the show had finished, regardless of their longing cries for more.
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