A Quizno’s employee once lamented to me, “If I hear this song again, I swear, I’m going to off myself.”  The potentially suicide-inducing song in question was Regina Spektor’s quietly ubiquitous “Fidelity.”  I found it interesting that—of all the songs on the Quizno’s playlist that must have been repeated dozens of times throughout the day—he singled out “Fidelity” as particularly loathsome.  On the surface, the tune is a fairly straightforward, inoffensive pop ditty, something that soccer moms wouldn’t mind hearing while shopping for a holiday sweater.  In fact, the plucky string arrangement and immaculate production sound like they were designed to please that very demographic.  But then Spektor’s eccentricities begin to reveal themselves in the form of some extended pronunciations of the word “heart” in a jarring staccato.  I noticed the eyes of each sandwich artisan behind the counter roll during this section.  It made me realize that Regina Spektor may very well be the most divisive figure that could be justifiably classified as an “adult alternative” artist.  For somebody that writes and performs such accessible music, she could surprisingly be considered an acquired taste.

Fortunately for her, a sector of Los Angeles that appreciates the way Spektor merges her idiosyncratic vocal and lyrical styles with a penchant for writing strong pop melodies filed into the Greek Theatre for her second show in the area in three months.  There was not a single Quizno’s uniform in sight on this chilly night, on which the clear skies and bustling wind made for a dramatic atmosphere suitable for Spektor’s dramatic performance.  Spektor, looking like she dressed in her Little Bo Peep costume a few days too early (but adorable nonetheless), took to her grand piano backed by a string quartet and famed session drummer Matt Chamberlin.

I was startled to find that within the first few words of set opener “The Calculation,” she had unwittingly gained hundreds of additional backup singers.  The scattered, mostly female voices of fans singing along accompanied Spektor as she belted out her quirky lyrics and swayed along to airtight beats provided by Chamberlin.  It was a sight of Lillith Fair proportions; the sense of female empowerment surging through the crowd was enough to make anyone break into an impromptu “Single Ladies” dance (no one did).  The audience laughed accordingly to some of Spektor’s clever lyrical twists, which left me wondering if her studio recordings would benefit from having a canned laugh track. They did seem funnier to me live than on record.  The Russian-born songstress passionately tore through several selections from her latest Far, as well as favorites from her breakthrough record Begin to Hope, switching from piano to keyboard to electric guitar.  Perhaps the most poignant moment of the show came when Spektor abandoned all instruments to perform “Silly Eye-Color Generalizations,” an unreleased acapella number that completely silenced the crowd.  Her powerful voice flawlessly carried the tune, which was heartbreaking and whimsical at once, and would make even the greatest skeptic believe that no one could do it quite like her.  The music-listening public may have varying opinions on Regina Spektor’s music, but that is one thing they should agree on—she’s one of a kind.

—Amorn Bholsangngam