It was surprising to see a less-than-packed venue Sunday night for North Carolina band Sylvan Esso's concert at The Factory. The duo, married couple Amelia Meath and Nick Sanborn, have had several successful albums in the decade since they became a band — the last three albums having done well on the Billboard charts. Or, maybe it wasn’t so surprising, knowing Dallas. Can such quirky, fanciful, synth-driven music compete with the NFL, handbag sales at NorthPark and 4-hour long margarita brunches?
It seemed like only the hardcore fans were in attendance, unlike more mainstream shows that overflow with people who show up merely for social media credibility. But that was a good thing. It gave fans room to move and dance. And dance they did.
Meath's fragile, intimate vocals and Sanborn's repetitive, electronic mini-melodies and droning midi-formed undertones created the kind of music to which you'd dance alone in the bedroom when nobody’s watching. And that cutely awkward, sexy dancing filled The Factory’s floor as the audience appeared absolutely lost in the moment, creating a beautiful, ephemeral sight.
Of course, the audience’s temporary trance couldn’t have happened had Sylvan Esso’s performance not been on point. Meath's vocals stay within a tight range, complementing and smoothing out Sanborn’s staccato synths rather than trying to impress with Mariah-style acrobatics. This meant she easily nailed every word, even while leading the crowd in eccentric dance moves.
Songs such as “Die Young” and “Coffee” came off with more emotion and energy than the studio versions, improving two already impressive pieces of music. Other tracks, such as “Sunburn” and “Hey Mami,” were nicely delivered, but not epic, and felt more like covers of Tune-Yards songs than original offerings. Much of the group's setlist was reminiscent of similar bands like Purity Ring but barely avoided sounding derivative.
And there's the bigger elephant in the room: Is it fair to acknowledge just how much the duo, and this genre in general, copped from Laurie Anderson, allowing it to be an homage to synth-filled art pop’s godmother and not merely ripping her off? A few of the songs, especially the encore closing “Make It Easy” sounded like they were written from a ChatGPT prompt “make a Laurie Anderson tune.”
Even the New York performance-art visuals, opening with only black and white light, black and white outfits, carefully placed backlighting, and a sparse stage, seemed like a reimagined tour for Anderson’s Big Science.
A nice visual touch, surely planned to match the music’s slow burn, was the way colors slowly worked their way into the lighting, and eventually into Meath’s costume, ending the show in a giant, colorful puffball outfit.
With the band performing radio-friendly hits “Ferris Wheel” and “Radio,” it really was a surprisingly light crowd. Did the Cowboys simply prove to be too much competition for a couple of oddballs performing melancholy lyrics over catchy samples and electronic sounds as they danced and lurched like nobody was watching?
It doesn’t matter either way, as those in attendance clearly left with the kind of euphoria you can only get from dancing in the dark to your favorite band.