Miike Snow at Antone’s, 6/8/10

Normally, 10:30 p.m. on a weekday night for workin’ folk is what I like to call “bedtime.” (Or, perhaps more realistically, “wasting time watching crappy TV on Hulu until bedtime.”) However, this particular Tuesday night, a legion of Swedes plus one soulful, sugar-voiced Yankee calling themselves Miike Snow descended upon Austin, Texas, to trance a packed Antone’s into blissed-out dance freaks.

Thirty minutes earlier, crew crowded the stage to rearrange synths and drums galore as people packed in tight against one another, hearts beating quicker in anticipation of an aural spectacle. My personal highlight and beyond-obsessed fangirl moment was spying Peter Bjorn and John’s sound man Jules (not actually certain of the spelling here, but let’s roll with it) helping a different set of experimental northerners and appropriately decked out in their jackalope tee. After testing wire connections, mics, guitars and keyboards, during which time a smoke machine belched forth clouds upon clouds of white wafting poofs, the house lights dimmed, purple lasers raged, and six masked men in matching shiny-black track jackets emerged from the darkened stage right. The smoke, previously a slightly undesired choke-inducing must, became a completely fitting backdrop to the cool-and-eerie performers who crept onstage to the sound of an electro-blip intro (billed on the band’s setlist, quite literally, as “Intro.”) When all members were in their preferred positions, the intro morphed into the dreamy “Cult Logic,” which swayed and caressed us. The haunting, echo-laden chorus was made all the more creepy with the addition of those vacant, white masks, shiny eyes peering out from behind. It was the kind of song to draw you in; a spot-on choice for an opener, easing us into what was to come.

Next up was “Burial,” which immediately saw the audience singing along to every word, almost overtaking the band. The masks remained, transforming the musicians into stoic undertakers. Despite the dark lyrics, “Burial”’s bright key riffs and lilting chorus lightened the mood of the room, as heads nodded and fists pumped in time. This song broke immediately into the strutting rhythms of “Black and Blue,” a highlight for so many reasons. First of all, it’s so damn DANCEABLE. Secondly, this was one of three or four songs where the chorus of audience voices was a physical force unto itself. Finally, at the halfway mark/instrumental breakdown in the song, the band’s masks flew off, revealing bearded (or, in some cases, be-stubbled) faces illuminated by pulsating strobe lights. The crowd went nuts, and at the end of the song, the applause reached the near-frantic, heart-pounding, adrenaline-fevered level one would imagine (dare I say it?) the Beatles experienced in their pop-loving breakout phase. In fact, lead singer Andrew Wyatt had traded his mask for a pair of rose-tinged glasses, and looked not unlike John Lennon. The band paused, probably only for a minute that seemed to stretch on as waves of frenzied adoration swept through the room, and then they picked it back up into what, on record, is my least favorite song, but live is one of the most fun.

“A Horse is Not a Home” beat up our eardrums, but where on record, the lyrics seem to stand separate (and unintelligible) from the backing beat, the vocals and synths came together in an infectious marriage in this setting. The song was darker and more urgent, and faded quickly into another of the night’s highlights.

There is just something about “Silvia.” It’s a song that sneaks up on you, barely brushing your shoulders at the beginning, but locking you in an unflinchable death-grip by the end. It builds at just the right tempo, and this night was no exception. In all of the lights and lasers, the billowing smoke, Wyatt’s heartbreak became tangible. Perhaps “epic” is an overused descriptor, but simply put, this performance was the definition.

From the heartfelt to the sardonic, Miike Snow steered us into “Plastic Jungle” next, in which the chorus of “I wanna get slain” spat out bitterly and emphatically from every mouth in the place. This was a song to take out your aggression on, arms crossed and eyes rolling.

After the anger had passed out of the room, “Sans Soleil” drifted quietly through the room, allowing all of the dancers to rest their tired bodies for a little while. All the band members chimed in for the ooh’s and ah’s, sounding pitch-perfect and earnest. Their soothing vibe wasn’t held for long, as the band quickly picked up the pace again for “The Rabbit.” Tragically, technical issues involving a synth, some wires, maybe even an amp all caused the vibe to die out a little; the band seemed understandably frustrated and perhaps a little distracted as they scrambled to follow their no-breaks-allowed performance ethic and simultaneously solve their mechanical issues.

Still, even technical difficulties couldn’t bring down opening set closer “Animal.” It’s the single that brought them so much initial attention, and continues to be an earworm of the ages. Though I cannot personally vouch for the following statement as fact, I do not believe there was a still pair of lips in the joint as bodies bounced along to swervy syncopation. The band quickly scooted offstage at the end of their hit, only to reemerge about five minutes later for their encore jam, “In Search Of.” This is another album track that benefits from a live performance; the band’s precise punctuations in this song are enhanced by accompanying stage lights and Christian Karlsson’s sweet dance moves (looking every bit the DJ as his head bounced, and one arm seemingly directed the sound waves, pumping along with his own beats). The band members slowly left the stage, simultaneously deconstructing the song until Pontus Winnberg and his thumping synth were all that was left. Winnberg picked up his beer, smiled at the audience, and – just like that – was gone. The group left as they had arrived, in a puff of smoke.

Sweaty, delirious and overjoyed, we stumbled out of the packed house, just barely processing what we had all experienced. The only immediate certainty? We want Miike Snow back, and as soon as possible.

Set list:

1. Intro

2. Cult Logic

3. Burial

4. Black and Blue

5. A Horse Is Not A Home

6. Silvia

7. Plastic Jungle

8. Sans Soleil

9. Rabbit

10. Animal

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11. In Search Of