In September 2019, indie-rock darling Alex G released House of Sugar, his latest LP and ninth studio album. A mix of the familiar and the disorientating, where every listen revealed new intricacies in his layered arrangements, gorgeous melodies, and denser productions, the album was heralded by many as his best work to date. The 2020 tour for House of Sugar never came to pass, so upon hearing that Alex had announced an Autumn/Winter 2021 tour, I jumped at the chance to go.
Reductively, Alex G’s music is quirky, idiosyncratic indie rock. Although described as “dreamy’ or “lo-fi,” it often ventures into other territories: country, industrial, electronic. Performed by any other artist, his music could’ve easily turned into a staid indie show, but the efforts of the opening act, his three-piece backing band, the lighting and sound technicians, and, of course, Alex Giannascoli himself, ensured an electrifying performance.
The concert opened with EXUM: a former NFL player, who was an unexpected presence on stage but nevertheless exceeded expectations. He introduced the crowd to his work with several songs off his debut album Xardinal Coffee, an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink blend of pop-rap, experimental hip hop, and alternative R&B. Using flashing lights to render himself into a live stop-motion animation while performing songs like “Strawberry Sweet”, a catchy, saccharine piece of island pop, and “Arrest the Dancer,” a bouncy, Prince-esque funk number, EXUM’s energy and stage presence captured the attention of the crowd.
EXUM’s vulnerability bled through his writing, a far cry from the hypermasculine world of professional football he left behind. His writing was, in part, shaped by a near-death experience on the operating table that left him wholly convinced of his dedication to music. “You can’t really be scared of anything else after something like that happens,” he said. “It solidified where I was going at the time and what I was doing. I knew 100 percent that I was doing the right thing…and that I need to follow this with everything that I have.”
EXUM ended his set on a high note with the chaotic “Bad Dude Bad Chick,” a collaboration with the Norwegian duo Fochs Koshka, remixing EXUM’s song, “Bad Chick Bad Dude.” The song combines experimental electronic and jungle drum and bass influences over a hammering beat, rounding out a performance that proved his penchant for genre-defying music.
As we sat waiting for Alex G and the rest of his live band to get on stage, I couldn’t quite tamp down the apprehension I felt; I wasn’t sure what to expect from a live Alex G show. I’d heard from friends about his antics at live shows, his tendency to heckle audiences, and his famously unpredictable encores. Before I had the opportunity to stew any longer, Alex G and his three-piece live band emerged on stage and promptly began the show.
The majority of his set was dominated by House of Sugar and Rocket. He opened with crowd pleasers: the crowd shouted wildly in response to the first several measures of the layered woodwinds and distinct synths of “Gretel” and even I wasn’t immune to the folksy, scenic nostalgia and steady country-esque bounce of “Southern Sky.”
From the first several songs, notably “Gretel” and “Kicker,” I realized the stark contrast between Alex’s recorded songs and his live performances. Alex G—with the help of Tom Kelly whaling on his drums, Sam Acchione shredding away at his guitar, and John Heywood providing a steady foundation on bass alchemized his dreamy indie rock into something more visceral, something with teeth and grit and edge. Throughout the performance, the band members would periodically turn away from the audience to face each other, making eye contact and head bobbing and smiling. It felt like the band was playing for themselves, carving out a private moment amidst the lights and the audience and the fervor of the concert; I felt almost voyeuristic as I watched them.
Alex followed with “Hope,” one of his greatest moments on House of Sugar, a song where he invites the listener to peer into the bittersweet open wound of a late friend’s passing. Buoyed by Tom Kelly’s drums amidst the blue-washed stage, he was frank with his retelling, leaning into the celebration of life instead of the passing. Soon after was “Sorry,” a personal favorite. Performed with a live band at an open concert venue, the song took on a more rousing note as opposed to, say, a solo acoustic show in the near darkness à la opening for Coma Cinema in Philly, but melancholy still tugged behind my navel as I listened to Alex begging, “Can you forgive me/For that pain?
Reprieve came in the form of “Brick,” a noisy, raucous affair set on a blood-red stage, the distorted, grating vocals, abrasive guitar, and harsh drums a welcome palate cleanser from the sea of softer songs. The mosh pit went wild, the slam of bodies against bodies dying down only as Alex slumped over the piano, groaning, “I know that you’re lying,” into the mic as the final wailing notes of the guitar and the last vestiges of the drumming rose and fell.
The wall of sound faded away, and before long, I heard the distorted, pitched-up, longing lament that “Someday, I’m gonna walk away from you” but “not today, not today” of the song “Walk Away.” The rest of the song was a crowded push and pull between his promises to walk away and his reluctance to do so, a struggle caught in the teeth of muted dissonance and wary uncertainty. It sounded like Alex’s voice was being ripped out of him as, eyes shut and jaw clenched, he hoarsely chanted, “not today,” a far cry from the low murmurings of the studio recording.
“Crime” followed, its first few measures of gentle guitar washing over the crowd like a balm. Reminiscent of Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Me to the End of Love,” the song put Giannascoli’s songwriting on display as he crooned about confronting someone over a loss.
The (planned) setlist wrapped up with “SugarHouse,” a song title borrowed from the eponymous SugarHouse Casino in Philadelphia, near Giannascoli’s hometown. Jazzy piano, mellow guitar, and saxophone accompanied Alex’s vocals as, tendons in his neck standing in sharp relief, he sang between gritted teeth, grappling between his desire for change and his addiction to temporary highs in the “House of Sugar.” He begged the audience to understand that even though “You never really met me,” “we could still be players together.” “SugarHouse” embodies one of my favorite aspects about Alex G: he creates music that draws close to but never quite reaches the intimate event of an Elliott Smith or a Phil Elverum. In that distance, he makes space for the listener to live in, for them to fill in the details with their own story.
Alex G and Company broke away from the last lovely, fleeting moments of “Sugarhouse – Live” as Sam Acchione, the guitarist, doubled over in pain, leaving Alex and Tom to rip a fake “alien” out of him. The band disappeared from the stage for a moment, reappearing with Alex sporting a haphazard bald cap on his head for the encore. Grinning wildly, he announced to the crowd that, “We’re Coldplay and I’m Chris Martin,” before launching into renditions of “Clocks” (whose lyrics evaded him until he was able to find a print copy of the lyrics to slap onto the piano) and “Yellow.” Tom Kelly, the drummer, then took over the center stage, belting “Viva la Vida” into the mic as the crowd shouted their approval.
In the spirit of Halloween, the band members threw out packs of raisins (my friend was lucky enough to snag one!), and John Heywood, the bassist, led the audience in a surprisingly gentle performance of “Monster Mash.” With Alex looking drunker by the minute, they rounded the performance out with a rousing cover of Third Eye Blind’s “Jumper,” before promptly exiting stage left, leaving the concert-goers to make their way out of Cat’s Cradle and into the balmy Halloween night. All in all, I can say with certainty that that night was one of my favorite ways I’ve ever spent Halloween—I left feeling lighter than I had arrived.
Setlist Gretel Southern Sky Hope Bobby Kute Taking Sorry Kicker Near Bug Judge Brick Horse Bad Man Sportstar Walk Away Crime SugarHouse
