CULTURE  |  MUSIC

Sylvan Esso entrances, enthralls at Carrboro concert

Special to The Chronicle / DL Anderson
Special to The Chronicle / DL Anderson

Many frown upon electronic music: most of the sounds are made with synths and a barrage of tuning options. Although the virtual nature of this genre affords an unparalleled degree of musical complexity, it seems to have resulted in a significant portion of electronically produced music sounding freakishly similar. The combination of a catchy beat and “drop," a big-label artist name and a sensual auto-tuned female vocalist is guaranteed to capture the charts. These songs come and go in tandem with the short-term memory that EDM listeners have. It’s a constantly recurring cycle that leaves many music fans pining for something fresh and unique.

This is where the Durham-based electronic and indie pop music duo Sylvan Esso––consisting of Amelia Meath and Nick Sanborn––comes in. Formed two years ago, their first eponymously titled album was a result of the already compatible vocals and instrumental wizardry put forward by Meath and Sanborn respectively. I’d heard only two of their most popular songs earlier but decided to make the journey to Cat’s Cradle in Carrboro to watch them live with some hesitation.

The day of this pilgrimage began with a customary listening session of their entire album. As a result of this, I knew what to expect: a less perfected and tuned version of what I’d heard on my headphones. Tickets in hand, my friend and I arrived at Cat’s Cradle, only to find out that the venue was actually a field a few blocks away. It seemed like they’d shooed the crowd away from their prime location, sending us to the Carrboro Town Commons, a patch of green and wood canopies that doubled as the local farmer’s market.

The ticket said the show would begin at 6 PM, so I made the classic mistake of arriving at a rather safe time of 5:40. We sat around as about 50-100 people strolled about leisurely, barely occupying a fifth of the available space. The stage was a mesh of aluminum and black metal, strikingly awkward in the still sunny Friday eve. A lone man whose name I didn’t hear crooned a few songs and then gave way to a pretty lady who walked up sheepishly with her own guitar, perching herself lightly in front of a synthesizer. We hummed and clapped along as more and more people began pouring in: a mixed crowd of college students, inked-and-pierced up hipsters and college-going inked-and-pierced up hipsters. I gradually understood why they’d chosen such a large venue. The sun set in synchronization with the end of this artist’s performance. I found out her artist name was Flock Of Dimes and that she had spent the last month or so touring along with Meath and Sanborn.

The now burgeoning crowd shrieked in unison as Flock of Dimes called in the main course for the night. The lights in the back suddenly lit up, a tilted square of bright purple with lines projecting outward like waves, also purple. Flock of Dimes had announced that the crowd was over a thousand people strong, a pleasant surprise. I watched excitedly as two figures pranced onto the stage, thrusting their arms in the air enthusiastically. Meath addressed the crowd with an electric energy, thanking everyone for coming out.

They began with “Could I Be”, one of their more famous tracks. Meath’s voice was what really stood out: somewhere between Amy Winehouse and Florence Welch, she hit highs and lows with a bone-chilling quiver in her tone. As she enchanted everyone with her fascinating vocal range, her electro sidekick was doing his job adeptly and with focus, looping her voice and mixing things up in the background. Sanborn really came into his element when “Uncatena” came on (drop everything, except this article, and listen to this). The volume rose many decibels, and he did a little jig with his skinny-jeaned legs: magic ensued. Existential-crisis inducing waves of bass reverberated through the Town Commons as we swayed as one. People danced and sang along as the air hung heavy with smoke.

This wasn’t the electronic music people had written off so easily: this was something unnervingly original and stimulating. Part-folk, part-electro, part-pop, Sylvan Esso captured each and every one of the audiences’ hearts as it went from one song to the next.

“H.S.K.T” displayed their ability to produce beats that literally forced you to move, while “Hey Mami” showcased the perfect chemistry their sound and script had. My personal favorite was “Play it Right”, because Sanborn fooled around with the instrumentals on the spot, grinning as he fiddled with the knobs and dials. Meath took a brief hiatus from her serenading to tell us that there was a full moon that night (an announcement that endeared her to the crowd even more). Everyone turned away from the stage in unison and exclaimed in wonder. They left the stage after their last song but gave in to the crowds’ chants for “one more”, coming back and free styling with some remarkable mixing. My expectations were definitely surpassed.

The concept of tortured artists pouring away their souls into melody is rarely a quality attributed to electro-pop. Amazingly, Sylvan Esso managed to evoke something deeper, asking and answering personal questions through song. I’ve come to notice that a telltale sign of a successful concert is a dearth of usable bathrooms. This event was no exception. As I discreetly tried to empty my bladder behind a secluded shed in the corner of Carrboro Commons (an unofficial alternative toilet that concert-goers had established), Sylvan Esso’s music resounded all around, leaving me beaming and thankful I’d traveled all the way from Durham to hear this homegrown powerhouse of creativity and pleasure.

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