Author: Anahid Yahjian
It became apparent that I was about to witness something out of this world last Friday when I was escorted into the pit of Hollywood’s Greek Theater to find a spot along the stage. Every single person standing around me seemed to be a poster child for a different societal affliction: there was the bored skinny girl in her grandmother’s sweater, the scarf-and-faux-hawk-wearing man telling his latest Xanax story, the hipsters sipping beer on the ground, the lovers swapping spit-my stereotype radar had never been so confused. Just as it neared its breaking point, however, the house lights went out and all those different people melted together and, in their communal anticipation of what was to come, formed a single entity: Air fans.
The French duo, comprised of Nicolas Godin on guitar and Jean-Benoît Dunckel on the piano and synthesizer, has been touring since the March release of their fourth studio album Pocket Symphony. Perhaps best described as electronica, Air’s music is known for its soft vocals, relaxing high tones and overall low-key melodies; the atmosphere they create when playing live-as they did at Friday’s performance-fits the same description.
Dressed in their signature pale-toned attire, Godin and Dunckel walked onto the stage with their band-not even electronica succumbs to the lows of a backup track-while the stage and audience were illuminated in slight purplish tones. They started the one-and-a-half hour set off with Godin’s voice-transformed into that of a robot, of course-repeating “We are the synthesizers.”
As the music seeped into the audience’s subconscious, it seemed as if every notion of the real world was instantly replaced with that distinct dreamlike state Air’s sound never fails to induce. Those standing closed their eyes and swayed like reeds at the edge of a milky pond, only to open their eyes at slight rises in tempo and pitch to see the world around them transformed into a colorful heaven, complete with bubbles inconspicuously floating in and out of the crowd-compliments of a large, bearded fellow. Though there was the occasional drug-induced dance performed by women who must have traveled in time from the Woodstock days, the majority of the crowd remained seated and simply bobbed along, mesmerized by the synchronized light show that seemed to dictate everyone’s mood.
Despite the technical complexity of their music, Air managed to duplicate the album versions of their songs almost exactly, not slipping once in their timing. Even the female vocals all Air fans can recognize in an instant weren’t faked-Dunckel’s microphone somehow managed to create this effect as he sang along to Godin’s steady strumming. The perfection they presented had the audience hypnotized, freed to be bent in whatever direction Air chose.
The only moments in which the obligatory shouts of support were heard were when either Godin or Dunckel would speak to the audience, their words decorated either with an effect or their adorable French accents. My personal favorite was when Dunckel started off the red-tinted “Sexy Boy” with a coy “You are very sexy” to the audience.
The only negative aspects of the perfect night were the absence of songs from the Virgin Suicides soundtrack Air had done for Sofia Coppola, and the disappointing amount of empty seats in the upper levels. Perhaps it was for this reason that the audience was not able to muster enough volume to pull the band back onto the stage for an encore after their short set; then again, maybe it was because they were still in a ethereal state of pillows, dandelions, doves and pure Air.
This article has been archived, for more requests please contact us via the support system.
