Sarah Kinsley has brought her Fleeting tour to the Le Studio TD. I wonder if I have made a mistake standing directly in front of the stage-right speaker, but Kinsley has a really, really precise sound engineer.
You could say that about every part of her set.
Classically trained, Kinsley is a musical architect, just as comfortable strapped to a guitar as she is behind the keys. Her Fleeting EP which came out earlier this year showcased this discipline, with dizzying high-register vocals and intricate piano, guitar, and violin lines, layered over 80s-inspired synth pop. Although she records and produces alone in her bedroom, banging mundane objects like cups and furniture to get there, her onstage presence makes her ambitious vision clear: dreamy, otherworldly ascension.
Opening with “Truth of Pursuit,” a fanciful exploration of romantic what-ifs, Kinsley sways and yearns through “Lovegod.” Later, she brings the room back down with a solo performance of “After All” in a vibrato that trembles with force before soaring into a barely-there trail of sound, and rasps with raw intensity in “The Giver.”
She keeps her show tight and doesn’t speak much, but the effortless delivery should not be mistaken for nonchalance.
Kinsley’s greatest – and most experimental – instrument is her voice. Singing into a contact microphone, which picks up sound through direct vibrations and has become a recording trademark, she creates haunting, wailing soundscapes. During “Knights,” she holds a microphone in each hand, alternating between the two or singing into both together to create an ethereal dual vocal effect.
Kinsley has described her sound as siren-like, a whalesong, but it seems that she would transcend the physical realm altogether. Her vocals are exquisitely controlled, like she is squeezing water from a rock. When she sang “Lovegod,” I was reminded of the breathy expansiveness of Imogen Heap, and then during “Glint” of the theatrical richness of Florence Welch.
In a rare segment of crowd talk, she tells a humorous story about her high school pen pal program in Montreal, where her class was preparing to visit. She committed a faux-pas when she wrote to hers, “je suis très, très, excitée de vous voir,” and draws a theaterful of laughs with her imitation of her French teacher’s response:
“Oh non, Sarah, Sarah, did you send it? I don’t even know how to explain what you have done.”
It isn’t until one of the last songs on her set, “Oh No Darling!,” that the crowd really gets moving. This folds into “The King,” the debut single that went viral and launched her career. It sounds richer live, with juicy drums rattling the ribcage of anyone who had decided to stand next to the speakers, and creamy synths that thicken the air like we’re moving through water.
If there is a euphoric feeling Kinsley is after, she will carve it into sonic existence.
Just don’t ask her to do it in French.
Review – Irene Wang
Photos – Rihuà
