Silence envelopes the room as Neko Case sings about finding a gray hair when she was 26. It’s cutting. You’ve been unwittingly seen. There’s a metaphorical mirror across from you, reflecting back what you’ve stuffed away, hidden from everyone’s view. Everyone is still as the rest of the song unravels the sentiments so easily evaded within ourselves. It’s moments like these when a concertgoer feels the most individual, yet traversing sonder because the strangers around you felt the same emotion at the same time. Together everyone is knocked back into the parts of us that we do everything to look away from. The enduring silence of “Oh, Neglect” is proof of Case’s ability to combine songwriting into a visceral performance. Her vivid lyricism guides her performance through the night.
“Oh, Neglect” is one of the new songs Case performs during her set at the Academy of Music. She opens the night addressing the audience, excited to introduce them to the new music she’s been working on. On the stage, the mic stand isn’t angled below her; Case tilts her head singing upwards into the space above her. Her presence commands attentiveness. It’s less of a serious demeanor and more of the impact her voice carries. The emotional impact she wants the audience to come away with filters through the room, and it’s clear that she wants her listeners to embrace the initial waves of feelings, a refusal to filter what one feels. Case’s performance is a mix of expressions: a roaring introduction on “Maybe Sparrow,” which moves into nostalgic longing, adamant declarations, wistful reflections and vulnerable admissions. She encases the breath of life’s experiences in one set. When silence overtakes the room, it’s a respectful acknowledgement.
Case released her first album in 1997 as a part of Her Boyfriends. In the time since her initial release, Case has become an influence for current musicians. Last year, her song “Nearly Midnight, Honolulu” was featured on boygenius’s “Blueprint” Spotify playlist, a playlist of songs that inspired their debut album “the record.” Her gender-bending song “Man” received a new revival among indie-listeners after being covered by Julien Baker at Love Rising in March 2023. It has brought new focus to Case’s music and expanded her engagement with her work for a new generation of listeners.
Case’s concert structures itself as movements throughout pivotal points she conveys in reveries. “Calling Cards” touches on the parent-child relationship, moving into instances of self-hate on “Oracle of Maritimes” and cyclonic yet tender love of “This Tornado Loves You.” She plays with a full band: a guitarist, bassist, drummer, keyboardist and saxophone player. The instruments are punctuated on the beats when Case is pointed in her singing. When the melodies become smooth and unfettered, the band sounds like a unified blend bringing out the softness of each instrument, harmonically reflecting the emotional worlds of the lyrics.
A standout from the band was the saxophone’s outro on “Calling Cards.” The saxophone’s composition waded in a long and waxy riff, illuminating the phone booth scene of “Calling Cards.” The room is filled with a fuzzy warmth that comforts the distance between yourself and a beloved, who’s out of reach– the sentiments of “Calling Cards.” Where the song ended, the sax filled the liminal space left behind, signalling a lingering moment still to be inhabited within the song.
A live performance from Case is not the same as listening to her records. Her voice is a boom and reverberates beyond itself, invoking the moments that inspired the songs. Though some of the songs were recorded earlier in her career, Case invigorates the early years of her recordings with a vocal remaster, bringing her past music into the present tense.
Suzanne Bagia can be reached at [email protected]
