As Ariel Pink’s orchestra slowly appeared on stage, my expectations peaked: members were clearly not just a band, but also a circus sideshow. The guitar player, glowing in solid white, wore tight thermal pants that showed off his monster cock, a craftily sculpted masking-tape wad literally down to his knee.  The bass player looked like the killer from Scream (minus the mask). The keyboard player and drummer both came plain-clothed, but Ariel took the stage donning a feathery arrow through his head and a conservative, grandma-style black dress with a pouch (incorporated into later stage antics) underneath that made him look like no pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. The music kicked off with a drawn-out instrumental of otherworldly noise produced by a barrage of alternating pedals and keyboard sounds. Even the drummer had a seemingly endless supply of trinkets to incorporate into the percussion: tribal beads, empty bottles, chime stand etc. The noise then seamlessly blended into a song from the ultra-fabulous Worn Copy. I was instantly blown away by how true the sound was to the record. Creating a live sound that so accurately mimics the lo-fi home recordings of Ariel Pink’s albums is a feat I’d imagine was pretty difficult to coordinate, but it was executed perfectly by his four-piece orchestra. Moments of performance art were also thrown in throughout the set, such as inter-song call-and-response streams of consciousness and the unleashing of Ariel’s pregnant pouch: a pack that contained a snickers bar, t-shirt, shoe and plastic bag.   The audience was clearly approving, especially the gentleman next to me who had some form of praise to express after every song and during any moment of calm. His comments began with song requests “Getting High in the Morning!” and astute observations such as “Delay!” and “Echo!” His praises then evolved into more complex aphorisms: “Digitech forever!” I advise you go see Ariel Pink as soon as possible. But I can’t blame the guy—with a stage show this fantastical, it’s just a matter of time before he’s playing the Henry Fonda for $30 a ticket.

— Vanessa Gonzalez