Lights, Cameras, Lights!

Last night I went to a little venue called The Loft in downtown Lansing to see one of my favorite musical artists, a Canadian singer who calls herself Lights (born Valerie Poxleitner).  And yes, I went alone.  While here she’s practically unknown, in her native land she’s kind of a big deal.  In 2009 she won the Juno Award (Canada’s equivalent to the Grammy) for best new artist.  Recently she performed at the Juno Awards with Deadmau5.  Tickets for one her shows in Ontario started at about $40.

So when I found out she’d be at The Loft, which only holds about 400 people, there was little hesitation.  Especially with the tickets being so cheap.  Sometimes liking artists no one has ever heard of can be a good thing.  Sure, I’d be going alone.  But if that was my biggest problem I wouldn’t let it stop me.

When I got to downtown last night, I remembered who else like obscure musicians: hipsters.  That way, when people asked what concert they were going to, they could say, “Lights, but you’ve probably never heard of her.”  Naturally, if she ever does hit the mainstream, they can say they were listening to her before she was cool.  I suppose I have hipster street cred now (do hipsters have street cred?).  And hipsters make loyal fans.  Most everyone drove more than hour to get there and had seen her before, the line to the door went around the block, the show sold out. 

Also, there were a lot of iPhones

The night did not get off to a great start.  I stood in line for over an hour just to get in the door.  I stood in the crowd waiting for the opening act.  I stood for a good half hour after the opening act while the crew completely reset the stage.  By the time the show I had paid for actually started I’d already been on my feet for three hours, pouring sweat and bored stupid, waiting for something, anything to happen.  The crowd was even more unhappy than I was, chanting “We want Lights,” to no avail.  I found myself thinking that if she didn’t perform at least an hour long set, and make it amazing, I’d never respect her as an artist again.

Fortunately, she did both.  Opening the show with her latest single “Banner,” Lights came in like a beam of, well, light on a cloudy day.  Everyone was instantly jumping up and down, screaming like Michael Jackson was back from the dead (in a good way).  Most of the other guys there hadn’t just been dragged there by their girlfriends, as I would have expected, and were into the music as much as anyone.  Every song was greeted with wild enthusiasm, the ones from her more upbeat first album even more.  

You can imagine the smell. Actually, it smelled like Axe.

As I stood in the midst of the crowd, embracing permanent hearing damage, I found myself thinking about what had brought me there.  Believe it or not, I don’t often find myself in sweaty little nightspots, hoping no one spills his beer on me while jumping to the deafening beat produced by some band no one’s ever heard of.  For the record, I did not jump (though I may have bounced a bit).   

See, as a film major we only watched the classics.  But our textbooks covered everything, even the kitsch.  One of the B-movies I read about was the cult classic Barbarella, staring a young Jane Fonda.  The short chapter lead me to the Wikipedia article, which referenced music videos inspired by Barbarella.  And even though the music video it linked to had virtually no similarities to Barbarella, it’s what led me to Lights.  In retrospect, I wish I could just say I found her through the morally wholesome Owl City, rather than an unhealthy interest in some trashy 60’s movie.  But it’s not the journey, right?

The show ended with not one, but two encores, where Lights sang the two songs I’d most hoped to hear.  Hobbling back to my car, my lower back screaming at me for standing for the last five hours, I decided that if I had a bucket list I could cross off “see Lights live.”  However, I’d immediately be adding a new item: “See Lights live… again.”