April Showers 4/12/25: St. Vincent Burns Ting to the Ground.
Walking out of Ting Pavilion on Saturday night after St. Vincent closed the show, my head was spinning. This was the next evening in our incredible April of live shows in Cville and I’d gone in expecting a great show…maybe even a memorable one. I’d done some homework. I knew Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent, had stacked up Grammys over the past two decades. I’d listened to the hits and a few of her albums. I’d read about the legendary live performances.
But what I walked away from that night was something else entirely, something genre-bending, mind-melting, theatrical, and deeply human. It was one of the most remarkable performances I’ve seen in Charlottesville in a very long time. Maybe ever.
Old Hank was the first to flag it. When he saw St. Vincent on Ting's early season schedule, he said, “We HAVE to go.” He was adamant. And of course, I’ll go to just about any show, especially in Cville. So, along with Old Hank, we rallied some of the core crew. The Mysterious Jon and the equally mysterious Ms. Jon (we’ll call her CC), JB, Ms. Bazz (Sarah), and I met up at Brightside on the Downtown Mall pre-show.
This was our second time at Brightside before a show, and it’s quickly becoming one of our go-tos. The ambiance hits the sweet spot, chill but buzzy. Solid food. Thoughtfully crafted cocktails. Guinness for some, Pacificos for others. The energy on the mall was electric, the way it gets before a big show, and we knew we were in for a ride.
With full bellies and a drink or two down, we headed in. Wallice, the opener, hit the stage just as we grabbed drinks and made our way toward the pit. The music was already calling us down.
Wallice is a Los Angeles-based indie pop artist known for her introspective lyrics and genre-blending sound. She gained significant attention with her debut album, The Jester, which delves into themes of self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and the complexities of early adulthood. She brought her unique voice and storytelling to Charlottesville and set the tone for the night. She blends indie rock with dreamy pop and just enough grunge around the edges. Think Soccer Mommy meets early St. Vincent with a little more bedroom-pop angst. Songs like “The Opener” hit hard, especially with that nervy, self-aware energy she brings to the stage. We were all in from the first few bars, pulled into her world before we even made it all the way down into the pit.
Then came St. Vincent.
The lights dropped. The synths surged. And then Annie Clark stepped out, backlit by a single spotlight, silhouette sharp, wrapped in black and pure electricity. She didn’t ask for your attention. She took it. Everyone in that crowd felt it, you had to look. You had to listen.
The stage setup was minimal but surgical with industrial lighting that reminded me of a Nine Inch Nails show (which happen to be my all time favorite live shows.) It was part rock opera, part cyberpunk showdown.
She opened with “Reckless,” and from the first distortion-drenched riff, it was clear…this wasn’t just a show, it was a reckoning. Annie’s voice cut through the cool night air like a blade, shifting from cool detachment to raw, soul-crushing intensity in the space of a verse.
What followed was a setlist that pulled from across her entire discography but leaned heavy into her new album All Born Screaming. Songs like “Big Time Nothing” and “Broken Man” landed like gut punches, full of tension and release, darkness and transcendence. “Los Ageless” and “Digital Witness” got the crowd moving. Dancing, shouting, losing themselves in the swirl of glitchy beats and searing guitar solos.
And holy shit, the guitar solos. Clark doesn’t just play guitar, she makes it wail, whisper, scream, and beg for mercy. She didn’t talk much. Didn’t have to. She moved like a conductor of chaos, every note sharp, every step deliberate.
The mission at the heart of Cville Soundcheck is to shine a light on the music we’re lucky enough to experience here in our small corner of Central Virginia. Sometimes that means spotlighting local bands or hometown venues. Other times, it’s about those bigger names rolling through, whether they’re playing Ting, JPJ, the Jeff, The Southern, or elsewhere.
And man, are we lucky.
Lucky to have this kind of access. Lucky to live in a place where music this good keeps finding its way to us. And on Saturday night, we were especially lucky to have St. Vincent roll into town and absolutely level the place.
Annie and her band gave us something unforgettable, a show that was explosive, theatrical, and emotionally charged. Heading out with friends expecting a fun night is always a win. But walking into something transcendent, something that blew our collective faces off?
That’s the kind of night that stays with you. It leveled Old Hank.
I’ll just close with his post show texts and let him tell you himself…guess I gotta read “Snow Crash”.
Good Night Old Hank. Keep the Beat, Cville.
Bazz
