Live at the Englert Theater August 8
Words by Sean Moeller//Illustration by Erica Parrott
A line of mostly high school aged kids bent around the side of the building (an art supply store, a tax specialist), with the beginning of the tendril slouched and smoking under a pinkish and yellow marquee promoting Of Montreal and a production of Suessical: The Musical. Just inside the doors of the renovated room in downtown Iowa City was a tub of ice and imported beer, tended to by ladies with vests on and white towels draped over their arms. We’d walked into a dinner theater where an Of Montreal show was supposed to be. The band’s merch man, chatting with a potential customer, could be overheard blubbering, “Kevin Barnes…is…a GENIUS!” as if he was dealing with his obsession the only way he knew how, through the peddling of tees and just-released “Satanic Twins” vinyls. When Kevin Barnes – the genius in proclamation, be it bias or common beeswax – took the stage in a poofy red shirt, a green skirt and Nancy Sinatra-length red boots it was as if he was prepared for whatever was up there between the bulbs out front, a rendition of songs from “The Sunlandic Twins” or the forthcoming “Hissing Fauna: Are You The Destroyer?” or a dangerous re-enactment of “There’s A Wocket In My Pocket.” Two days removed from a triumphant performance at Lollapalooza, on a side stage that drew a major crowd, Of Montreal was returning to Iowa City for the first time since it gained status as a band that can now afford to tour in a bus, kind of like the ones Billy Joel and Missy Elliott tour in.

Barnes doesn’t have a problem with skirts on men (what’s the difference between those and Capri pants anyway?), sparkly silver eye makeup, dancing the way Elle McPherson, Kate Moss and Heidi Klum probably dance, all straight-up supermodel-y, wearing tight white jeans (one of three wardrobe changes on the night) that obviously revealed a trouser snake pasted along one leg, writing songs that continue to get more vamped up and more melodically ritzy with each album and pretending that each night is a better party atmosphere. He, like that Conor Oberst lad habitually does, entered from the side with a bottle of wine, sipping it right from the lip. The rest of his bandmates – bassists Jamey Huggins and Matt Dawson, keyboardist/guitarist Dottie Alexander and guitarist the Late B.P. Helium in a summery orange dress with coordinating headwear – had already shown themselves, marching to something that sounded half Russian and half “Jesus Walks” intro. They launched right into “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games,” and it was an indication of how the rest of the night would follow. The bulk of the set was material from “The Sunlandic Twins,” Barnes’ momentous 2005 Polyvinyl release. He was so kind as to tuck three tracks from the upcoming full-length – the band’s 83rd – in between the lines. One in particular, “Suffer For Fashion,” with Barnes singing, “It’s not supposed to happen like that,” will be particularly worth the wait (though Daytrotter’s going to help make the wait shorter in October when we feature an exclusive session that could also include a studio version of Of Montreal’s version of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” – yes, it’s cool).

Oh, there is a smattering of reasons that Barnes is an interesting subject. His songs are bizarre bits of misfit poetry with scripts of love and romping rumpuses built around capers from a place that can best be described as Make Believe Land, somewhere between the meadows of gum drops, cotton candy clouds, acid rain and PG-13-ish peep shows. These are songs about having a good time despite having a bad time lurking over your shoulder or tying your shoelaces together like an asshole. There’s less adventure in these songs live only because the performance of them is so powerfully entertaining. Barnes must really be taken in through close-captioning, through headphones and through study before being seen live. His lyrics and the highly developed songs he pens are worth the extra time because then sitting back and enjoying his comical double entendres and his uncloaked whimsy (it’s so hard to leave this word from anything written about him). He makes up a song about duct tape and jokingly assumes that the audience is made up of Cornhuskers before pledging joking allegiance to Ohio State, eliciting some jeers. He then said, “I didn’t know you guys were athletes. That’s awesome,” and cutting into “Old People in the Cemetery.”

“How many elves are in the audience tonight? This one’s for all the elves,” Barnes said after changing into a gold thing that Neil Diamond would probably declare overly fruity. “Any droids? Any Jews? Lieberman? Just kidding.” He then began playing just a few bits of a cover song that you know, but you don’t saying, “I changed it up just enough so I can’t get sued. It’s called Daytrotter.” There was loud applause. He continued, “I don’t agree with Lieberman because he’s for the war and I don’t like war. I like to bathe and I like to get my nails done.”

Glorious juxtapositions, he calls where they arise home and you think that that guy breaking the 20s out front is dead-on about that genius part.

Of Montreal’s Official Site