by Solange Deschatres

If there were one artist who could lure the pretty birds from their comfortable treetop perches, Jenny Lewis would be the one to do it.
There were no birds inside the Pageant, but Lewis, clad like a flower child in a floating white t-shirt, bellbottoms and a crown made of a Hawaiian garland, flung wide the doors of her feral world and enticed her audience inside.
No recording could ever do justice to the silky, yet road-dusted quality of Lewis’s vocals, nor the mysterious life power that gives them effortless strength. Lewis’ inner vibrancy intoxicates, whether she’s giving serious hip-jutting sass to “See Fernando,” or sultry swaying to “Pretty Bird.” Her inner sunshine is warm and comfortable, and reaches gently out to liquefy the chilliest of hearts.
The acoustic weds effortlessly with the singer’s friendly, strolling countenance and candied, rosey vocals in the bittersweet ballad, “You Are What You Love.” Band members weave deftly around Lewis’ and her boyfriend/co-collaborator, Jonathan Rice’s lead, with Farmer Dave of Deer Tick working the steel lap guitar, Barbara Gruska swanging the beat on drums, and Danielle Haim tackling complex and varied percussion. The band never leaves a moment to slouch, all drinking from the same pool of magnificent energy.
You’d never know the band just got back from hard partying at Bonnaroo, the legendary Tennessee summer music festival. Lewis, still reeling from her “Carpetbaggers” duet with Elvis Costello, banters with the audience about her weekend — and about her similar encounter with the notoriously raunchy puppet comedian, Triumph, the Insult Comic Dog, who traded some of the lyrics for, “I’ll do you from behind”, to which Lewis had replied, “And I’ll smile the whole time.”
Although perhaps a little burnt out from a weekend of rock n’ roll, Lewis and the band plow through the set fresh as morning glories. Lewis’s muscle-bound vocal chords seem pull and drag those sedimentary emotions from far below the surface, leaving nothing but awe in their place.
Singer-songwriter wizardry astounds when Lewis and Rice reach out to the new crowd of St. Louis, where the indie rock scene is comparatively miniscule to many other big cities. The exquisitely tuned lead guitar and lead singer work their magic over the locals as they soften and ebb to find no tittering, no shifting, not even the tinkling of ice in a glass, from the gob smacked public. The silence throughout an entire venue is yet another instrument, one that not many artists can master, but once mastered, is the most incredible sound that the human ear can obtain.
Well, one of the most incredible sounds. The most incredible sound of the evening is the gospel revival-inspired, “The Next Messiah,” which turns up the heat and torches engines as Lewis writhes and prances across the stage, leading the audience on a string. Past and present, hot and cold, reel wildly in do-si-do during this number, as the band leads the way to what we hope can only be eternal salvation. Or maybe we just need a good shot of whiskey after all of that Sunday reeling.
New songs join the mix as well. “Just Like Zeus,” a rollicking electric number, feels like an old friend come to stay. It’s going back to her rock roots, which heads in a different direction from the gothic alt-folk/country vibe of her last album. “Big Wave,” part of the three-song encore, is again more electric, scorching, but fun. If these tracks are any indication of the direction Lewis and Rice are headed, we have a lot to look forward to on the next album.
Leading the acoustic rendition of “Acid Tongue,” with all band members on vocals around a single microphone, Lewis includes the audience in her intimate circle. When she flits charmingly from the stage before the band members after the final song, “Sing a Song For Them,” we don’t complain. The show has been everything it’s meant to be, and more. The bats return to the belfry, and, as for the birds, they get to take flight once again.