L’Rain’s first-ever Toronto appearance got off to an unceremonious start.
Performing without a formal opening act — Broken Social Scene’s Brendan Canning instead spun an appropriately eclectic mix of everything from Dirty Projectors to dub reggae — Taja Cheek had just stepped on stage to tune her guitar before L’Rain’s scheduled start time 15 minutes later. But when she was met with a round of applause and whoops of appreciation, she rode the momentum: “I guess we’re starting now,” she said matter of factly, triggering a sample of barking dogs and buzzing phones from a battery of effects laid out in front of her while her bandmates slowly took their places.
That rather loose start was followed by a masterclass in control and pacing, balancing noise and beauty. The singer, guitarist and creative force behind L’Rain, Cheek set the vibe early asking the audience to “just be here — you’re the most important part of the whole show,” before performing “I Killed Your Dog'' from last year’s album of the same name.
The four-piece band, most of whom switched instruments multiple times, built the songs up on drums, sax, guitars and even live samples of Cheek cackling into the mic, only to bring them crashing down again; Passages of cacophony gave way to clear-eyed moments of transcendence. They purposely bled many of the songs into one another, the final pulsing beat of the former setting the pace for the latter. Amidst all that potential chaos, Cheek projected a clarity of purpose that anchored even the band’s wildest moments.
During a rare pause, the singer recalled writing “5 to 8 Hours a Day (WWwaG)” in a beanbag chair in her basement only to find herself playing that same song in a totally new city, a phenomenon that seemed to genuinely amaze her.
An experimentalist that dabbles in pop, Cheek’s critically lauded records can feel intimate but otherworldly. The performance offered a small window into her process of creation, showcasing the playfulness in the compositions and the way that Cheek manipulates genre. Her bandmates followed suit, at one point goofing on the riff to Green Day’s “Brain Stew” before switching to the Strokes-esque guitars of “Pet Rock.” At other times, the musicians’ extended jams resembled free jazz.
After Cheek announced the band’s final number in their relatively short set, an audibly disappointed, “What?” could be heard from the crowd. “I’m sorry, it’s all we know," responded a sympathetic Cheek, before half-joking, “this is really hard.”
She and her bandmates made it seem so easy.