It was a real do-it-yourself kind of evening during Tuesday night’s sold-out Laetitia Sadier concert. Running a little over an hour, Sadier, the French solo artist best known for her work with the influential ’90s band Stereolab, quietly commanded the stage at the Empty Bottle.
On her records, Sadier often works with a full band of musicians. But during Tuesday’s show, she did it all herself. The show largely featured tracks from Sadier’s latest album, “Rooting for Love,” her first solo album in a decade. Alone on stage, Sadier’s songs felt more intimate, allowing the audience to fall deeper into the lyrics and instrumentation. Her level of dedicated, precise craftsmanship was compelling to witness, especially as she moved back and forth between methodical levels of construction from song to song.
During her performance of “New Moon,” Sadier blazed into the depths of the song, creating a propulsive flow of energy and biting lyricism that delightfully mimicked some of her past work with Stereolab. By herself on stage, Sadier played to a recording of the song’s drumming and other instrumentation. She did this with other tracks, too, including “Proteiformunite.”
But Sadier was certainly most captivating when she built her songs from scratch. I am thinking of the wonderfully drawn-out creation of her “Cloud 6,” the closing track on “Rooting for Love.” During this performance, she built almost all of the elements of the song live, carefully tweaking her synths and samplers to flesh out the track. It is in these kinds of live experiences that one gains a deeper understanding of how much truly goes into a song. Listening through tinny laptop or smartphone speakers often flattens the quality of a song. Witnessing the construction of it during last night’s live show, however, was a delight. Synths layered with guitar layered with sonic sampling turned this five-minute song into a lengthy but rewarding feast for the eyes and ears.
I particularly enjoyed when Sadier would sporadically bust out the trombone. She was never showy with it. By the end of the song, she even added choreographed hand and arm gestures, finally ending the performance by uttering “I’m not (expletive) around,” (a lyric from the track) and turning her back to the audience. It was a thrill.
During “Ode to a Keyring,” a song by Sadier’s late ’90s and early aughts project Monade, she utilized the same methods of construction, extending the length of the song and turning it into a contemplative, almost psychedelic wonder. I left that particular performance in awe of the methodical work it took her to make the song come alive. What a joy!
But it was such a bummer the audience couldn’t get a hold of themselves. Meaning: they wouldn’t shut up. That sort of behavior might be acceptable in an arena or a large concert hall, but the Empty Bottle is a small space. Those of us at the show who wanted to hear and see Sadier perform were often disrupted, or distracted, by an ever-increasing crowd of yappers who could not stop talking. I think in all my years of attending a show, I have never experienced a crowd as loud as that one. And it was distressing to say the least, because no one in that room was particularly young. They should have known better.
By the end of the night, others were vocally frustrated, too. One man toward the front of the room shouted at the crowd to be quiet as Sadier got ready to perform a more stripped-down version of “La Nageuse Nue.” And even Sadier was frustrated, saying “We can hear you!” into the microphone. That seemed to be the one that finally quieted the crowd for the first time all night. But what a shame that it happened an hour into her set.
Performing live is hard enough today. Musicians put themselves at risk playing in crowded venues without health safety precautions. The costs to survive on the road — whether it’s for gas to power their vans or food to power their bodies — have skyrocketed post-pandemic. Years of delayed live shows due to lockdown restrictions means artists from all walks of life are competing for space to perform in a limited number of live venues. The least an audience member could do is pay attention to the show. But apparently, that’s too much to ask for in 2024.
Britt Julious is a freelance critic.
