To promote their latest album “Lousy with Sylvianbriar”, the paradoxically American band named “of Montreal” delivered an electrifying concert in the City of Light last month, two years after their previous appearance in the capital.

At 9 o’clock sharp, the lights go off, and the scattered audience quickly huddles together. of Montreal comes acclaimed on stage, though conspicuously deprived of its pivotal frontman Kevin Barnes. The spectators grow perplexed while the musicians go about their setting-up routine unperturbed. That being done, the backup singer and keyboardist Rebecca Cash greets us with a local “Bonjour”, and, apparently inspirited by the warm response, proceeds with a decidedly more cryptic “C’est la nuit des mille chats”. Bewilderment ensues and puzzled “Quoi ?” run through the audience.

Soon after, the drummer and the keyboardist set about playing sporadic bursts of sound in unison, thereby succeeding in eradicating what little semblance of understanding we still had. A moment later, however, the guitar comes in to provide a very funky rhythm, and Kevin comes bouncing on stage. The audience cheers, overwhelmed by the urge to dance and the entirely correct conviction that that they are in for a fabulous evening.

There could hardly be a better opener.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSMNzC_vM6Q

An hour in, the energy on both sides of the show hasn’t so much as wavered. Upbeat anthems follow one after another, much to the delight of the audience. Kevin Barnes reaches ecstatic highs numerous times, going as far as to defy the climactic computer-assisted vibrato in “Faberge Falls for Shuggie”, reproducing it with his voice alone.

We wonder how he’s going to keep this up for the rest of his 15 days of touring, but, truth be told, it’s none of our concern; he’s giving his all tonight, for us, and we’re not going to complain.

Of course, exuberance and ingeniousness are not mutually exclusive, and this is demonstrated by the band. For instance, in the unequivocally scabrous “Plastis Wafers”, the singer first lets out an “ooh”, echoed by Rebecca Cash, then a “la”, echoed in the same fashion, and finally repeats the last three words rendered, “ooh la la”, together with the backup singer.

As we progress into the evening, the lyrics grow salacious and the room steamy. Kevin Barnes unbuttons his shirt and goes barechested; the male audience reconsiders its sexuality.

Halfway through the concert, however, the mellow ballad “Raindrops In My Skull” changes the mood drastically and gives the show a much-needed slowdown in pace.

This short interlude shifts the attention to backup singer Rebecca Cash and her versatile voice, sometimes mellifluous and lulling, at other times powerful and carrying. Her vigorous vocal change at the bridge is far more radical than in the studio recordings and succeeds in carrying the audience away, into lofty territories as grandiose as her voice.

This song really marks a salient point in the show, considering it will remain the one and only spotlight of the evening for Rebecca.

After almost two hours of playing, it’s time for the encore. The band comes back to play “The Past is a Grotesque Animal”, a 15-minute monolithic epic that intensely builds up to a thunderous, roaring climax.

Just before the end of the piece, Kevin Barnes dives into the audience, visibly unruffled by the unfortunate second-rate landing of their former guitarist during their 2010 show in Paris. This time, things turn out well, and the audience doesn’t miss the cue. Having had a short, reasonable jaunt seven feet above ground, Kevin finally sets foot on familiar grounds again and hastens to catch up with the rest of the band backstage. On the way out, Barnes doesn’t forget to treat us with a final wave goodbye.

The stage is now empty, but a sound lingers on. Soon enough, the guitarist hurries back up on stage to turn off the effect pedal, before slipping away just as quickly. His inconsideration for the audience makes for a slightly discordant final note, though only a mere ripple in the ocean of joie de vivre we were now basking in, directly tapped from the communicativeness of the band.

Needless to say, of Montreal is more effervescent than ever, aroused rather than exhausted by their decade of songwriting and touring-cum-partying. One would be hard put to find an excuse not to go to their concerts!