It’s always wonderful to see a crowded house of enthusiastic, dressed-the-part people at any show. It’s even better to see that crowded house piling in an hour before the opener even starts, eager to see their headliner, but sharing the same enthusiasm for the preceding act. Last week, Of Montreal embarked on their multi-costumed, prop heavy color festival that is their False Priest tour. The choice of opening act could not be more fitting than frequent Of Montreal collaborator, Janelle Monáe, who took the typically bemoaned opening slot and soared to rare heights.

Following some fanfare and a transmission, which arrived via large screens above the “Android Mother”, Monáe’s band took to the stage, cracking open “Dance or Die”, as cloaked figures walked on-stage from either direction. Out of nowhere, Monáe’s vocals seeped through, delivering the opening song’s psuedo-rap verse. One would assume that Monáe was under one of the black hoods, but as the spotlights turned on, heads turned to the balcony overhead. There, Monáe serenaded people directly in the crowd — her 40′s jazz-inspired pleated shirt, Victorian shoulder pads, and shiny white bowling shoes glimmering in the spotlight. With extremely tight vocals and one odd robotic persona, it soon became clear that on-stage Monáe assumes the role of a method actress, or at least a musical equivalent of one. Let’s just say she’s on her way to becoming quite the post-modern diva. But, as it goes on-record, the music’s themes coincided surprisingly well with the soul in her vocals, offering a strange contrast of intimidation and beauty in her “Android” persona.

With no stage banter, and no breaks between songs, Monáe covered almost the entirety of The Archandroid, even touching upon cuts from her Metropolis EP. A wonderful highlight of her set was a soft guitar solo that segued into a cover of Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile”.  With dimmed lights and low volume, it was heartwarming to hear the sold-out crowd at the House of Blues completely quiet and awestruck. It also helped that her guitarist was, as far as I’m concerned, Andre 3000 in disguise. He tore through demanding guitar lines, as the drummer bashed a kit worthy of a prog-rock band, and the keyboardist alternated between synth and a Fender Jazz bass. On “Tightrope”, the band received the chance to show off musically (they deserved it) where Big Boi would normally contribute a verse. Instead of the ATL rapper’s melodies, the band added some solo sections with Monáe directing. It was all very “Big Band”-ish.

But there’s more. Scattered throughout the set were appearances from nuns armed with tambourines, dancers in checkered suits, and other various forms of stage hype. Some of them shuffled across stage, entering the crowd to incite clapping and stir up some energy. Of the few reviews of this tour so far, many claimed these additions irrelevant, stating they detracted from the act; however, how can you complain about some one-on-one crowd interaction? In a show that’s already so ridiculous, the dancers made people laugh, or made them more energetic, as Monáe’s vocals still cut through to the crowd. In fact, during the set closer ”Come Alive”, she even joined them, jumping over the barrier to do a call-and-response section, and with such control that she brought the crowd to whisper.

By show’s end, Monáe’s act had become a cohesive combination of music, dance, and story. It’s not often that an opener is given the luxury of video screens, lighting, and backup dancers. It’s easy to see that she would’ve survived without them, but damn were they cool. And to think, Monáe only broke “character” once, to deliver a sincere “thank you” at the end of her set.

Arriving to a crowd of fans, a great majority clad in leopard print, facepaint, headbands, and an assortment of other wacky accessories, Of Montreal delivered the same musical prowess, crazy characters, and stage antics as Monáe, but with more volume. And for some reason, that same volume included a barrage of sexuality. Then again, that’s just something that comes with Of Montreal. Anyone who listens to Of Montreal’s records chronologically can trace their trajectory of musical styles and lyrics from Beatles ballads to the suggestive synth-funk of their latest albums. Seven members of Of Montreal lined the back of the stage with a giant open space in the middle that would be used for various stage antics such as a giant scuba diving monster, a penis dragon, men and women dressed as pigs, and devices to facilitate costume changes. One could write a review on their stage design and costumes alone, but as far as those go, we’ll let pictures do the talking.

From the get-go, Of Montreal’s crazy and enigmatic frontman, armed with booty shorts, a skirt, some baby blue boots, lots of glitter, and a headband, worked behind a smile that would remain on his not quite 36-year-old-looking face the entire night. The opening thumping drums and heavy guitar of lead-single “Coquet Coquette” rang out, igniting the crowd, who gave the band instant gratification with festival-caliber jumping and arena rocking cheers. Shortly after, giant walking skulls attacked Barnes as the mobile band members jumped around the stage, made possible with the advent of wireless technology. Psychedelic (for lack of a better term) visuals ran through the backing monitors as every band member took on a job, even when not playing their primary instrumen, grabbing egg-shakers or tambourines, or fighting with the costumed beings onstage.

With a setlist that pulled heavily from False Priest, the songs translated very well live. Songs that normally feature guests went off without a hitch, “Sex Karma” being one of many highlights. That’s not to say they focused solely on new material. Of Montreal offered a fair deal of crowd service, pulling from the back catalogue of songs with “Party’s Crashing Us”, “Gronlandic Edit”, and “Plastis Wafers”, featuring lines such as “I want to be your pleasure puss”, which Barnes delivered with a fair deal of self awareness and stifled giggling.

Musical segues or extended jams from various band members fleshed out the time between songs, including a violin solo performed while rolling on the floor, some bass work from the middle of the crowd, or more stage antics like a group of skeletons sitting around a TV that would broadcast a heartfelt performance of Sibylle Baier’s “Tonight”, which saw Barnes alone on keyboard, channeling that old Beatles feel again. Although not surprisingly, Barnes invited Monáe onto the stage for an amazing performance of “Hydra Fancies”. When Monáe’s microphone stopped working, the two harmonized into one mic, inches away from eachother and it was beautiful. Closing the set with the 12 minute performance of  ”The Past is a Grotesque Animal”, Of Montreal created a sonic landscape as Barnes heightened his vocals louder and louder, leading to a buildup worthy of a post-rock group before leaving the stage.

Naturally, the band returned for an encore of fan favorites: “Heimsdelgate Like a Promethan Curse”, and “A Sentence of Sorts in Konsvinger”. But nobody expected the random surprise medley that followed. As the opening notes of “Thriller” rang out, the crowd went apeshit as Of Montreal kickstarted a powerful Michael Jackson medley, featuring the members of Monáe’s band. In addition to “Thriller”, the medley included ”Wanna Be Starting Something” and “P.Y.T.” Wow.

All in all, Of Montreal proved that a crazy, sexual, psychedelic show can be intimate and heartfelt. Monáe proved nuns are astute at tambourine. The crowd proved to of Montreal that False Priest was a definite success. Also, Barnes had sex with a pig on stage, that was fun.

Janelle Monáe setlist:
Dance or Die
Faster
Locked Inside
Smile(Charlie Chaplin Cover)
Sincerely Jane
Wondaland
Mushrooms and Roses
Cold War
Tightrope
Violet Stars
Many Moons
Come Alive

Of Montreal setlist
Black Lion Massacre
Coquet Coquette
Our Riotous Defects
The Party’s Crashing Us
Godly Intersex
Sex Karma
Girl Named Hello
Gronlandic Edit
Plastis Wafers
Like a Tourist
Enemy Gene
Hydra Fancies
She’s a Rejecter
Tonight(Sibylle Baier Cover)
Casualty of you
Around the Way
For Our Elegant Caste
The Past is a Grotesque Animal
Encore:
Heimsdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse
A Sentence of Sorts in Konsvinger
Michael Jackson Medley
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Gallery by  Michael Zonenashvili

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