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PlaceboHoliday

Montreal, CAN @ Osheaga Festival - July 30th, 20116

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Ok that's it guys, I'll sleep now I have shit to do today..

I'll update this later when more videos and photos are posted

-----------------------------------------

quick question

do you want to me to upload all what I've collected so far of the shows at the end of the tour (like this only if you do want me too)

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Ok that's it guys, I'll sleep now I have shit to do today..

I'll update this later when more videos and photos are posted

-----------------------------------------

quick question

do you want to me to upload all what I've collected so far of the shows at the end of the tour (like this only if you do want me too)

Thank you so much for being such a great help :kiss: you're a lifesaver :heart:

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Has she stopped smoking? I haven't seen any pictures of her with cigarettes and her void sounds so great. I hope she has!!!!!!

There was a picture on the first page where she was smoking

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Oh well, she can still quit.

 

There was a Toronto paper that wasn't as kind. This is a very good review and more in depth from the Montreal Gazette!!

 

Bad girl.

Here was Osheaga, now an alt-fest institution, with its massive mainstream appeal leavened by presenting the cutting edge, the gritty, the raucous, the bands jumping around. And here was the girl who was gonna f*** it all up.

And that’s a compliment. You just knew Lana Del Rey’s stage set would look like Sunset Boulevard meets L.A. Confidential, and with the stage surname in blue neon script above the backdrop drapery, and the trees in the stage wings, you were there. The damage-magnet noir princess of the songs, the helplessly lethal fatale was here to bring stardom and poise…

And what initially seemed like a programming whaat now looks like a masterstroke. In a short yellow lacey dress, peace earrings and almost cloggy sandals, she looked like a post-Manson Girl as she entered to Cruel World and shrieks of delight from the huge Parc Jean-Drapeau crowd.

 

You had that feeling, that some were here to worship and some were here to rubberneck in case of a trainwreck. For here was what a true live music fan should expect… no, hope for, from the live arena, from a festival: a risk. The possibility that the show would stumble, the performer would underwhelm, that it could all fall down the stairs.

Forget it. After the relationship drama of Cola and Blue Jeans, with her band laying down the burbling undertow, Del Rey heard someone in the crowd yelp something. “Chelsea Hotel, you mean?”

Pause. And then, casually asking the fan out there to prompt her once or twice, she sang Leonard Cohen a cappella, and you were in the presence of a fusion of genuine noir pop and concept performance art. And therefore, a kind of greatness.

She followed it with Born To Die, switching the mic from the hand she was smoking with – or rather, accessorizing with a cigarette. Regardless, I don’t recall the last time I saw a female singer do it like that, but it would probably have been on black and white TV.

And here was that most uncommon of creatures: a girl who doesn’t want to dance. No, never mind – this girl didn’t want to move. Every half-shuffle of her leg was like a slo-mo from some narcotized girl-group video, but make no mistake, this was a singer in complete control of her aesthetic and her performance.

Smokey-voiced, she also trilled and cooed, and for all the hothouse quality of that singing, it’s better than you’d credit. She delivered like every song was a Lynchian dream sequence before someone gets artfully whacked in shmancy retro clothes; or the heroine drifts into her eternal barbiturate nap. Summertime Sadness sounded like The Carpenters under a billion-ton minor key made of Quaaludes. Amazing.

But every wave of her hand drew shrieks. “Been waiting for a long time to get here,” she said of Montreal. “Not so far, really, from where I grew up.” True, Elizabeth Grant of Lake Placid. “It’s amazing to hear you sing along to the words.”

And they did, not that it knocked her off her woozy focus. Honeymoon and High By the Beach were accompanied by the final night of the La Ronde fireworks competition, a perfect L.A. gauze-fantasy. But as the world was ending by pyro in the sky over La Ronde to her left and she was, like, whatevs.

Which doesn’t mean she wasn’t engaged. After Yayo (simple and gorgeous, solo on Flying V) and Video Games, she slo-o-owly descended to meet the crowd and spent five minutes taking smiling selfies. It was charmingly odd and vice versa.

The encore of Off to the Races had her in a barely-mobile shuffle with her African-American backing vocalists and after that inescapably hooky chorus, she floated off with a kiss goodbye.

The bad girl of the songs was an oddly undeniable heroine. And if that was an L.A. script, Osheaga just earned its strangest Oscar.

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I fucking love this outfit on her, it makes her look so fresh and younger, she needs to wear more yellow! Oh and apparently Young And Beautiful was on the setlist, saw it on twitter  :hdu:  

The dress really stands out amongst all those white dresses she's been favoring as of late. She needs to bring more color into her stage outfits 

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Great review from the Montreal paper, although it is safe to assume he had not listened to her in years and is going by shit he read.

 

There was also a great review in a Chicago paper the other day

 

Something I said to someone a week or so about the backup singers- that this review seems to get-

 It's as if Lana is almost standing still, making an arm go up and down while the singers dance, making it very much a retro-anti-harmony harmony group (the Lanaettes or Reyettes)

but with Lana definitely the leader.  (Or a supervillain Catwoman on the old Adam West Batman and her lovely feline gang).

(The yellow instead of white makes this easier to picture).

Or somewhat like the cheesy backup singers Roy Orbison had (the Orbetts?)

 

(Being that Lana writes and produces, there ain't no way Lana should be compared to the manufactured girl groups of the 60s as almost all of them was

controlled by a man, usually a power crazy man at that) (Phil Spector, Shadow Morton who was the man behind Mary Weiss & the Shangrilas)

Ike Turner controlling Tina, Sonny controlling Cher)


Lana is our modern day Edith Piaf. Totally unique. a mixture of Brian WIlson Roy Orbison, Leonard Cohen, Gram Parsons, Elton & Bernie. Born to Die/Paradise is comparable to Elton's Captain Fantastic. All the records need to be listened whole. Waiting for a box set vinyl of all 400 songs not on any lp

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