*****
December 15, The Pearl
Lasers fire. Horns blare. A slinking electronic beat draws bodies up from their seats. And in the eye of the raging storm, a 5-foot-4 pixie in flowing robes and face paint jitters across the stage and unleashes lyrics from one of her best-known songs, “And if you complain once more/You’ll meet an army of me.”
So this is why they built the Pearl.
Seriously, it’s as if Björk—one of the few performers in the world deserving of having her rock show truly be termed a “concert”—waited to visit Las Vegas until it possessed a musical venue worthy of her stature, and on Saturday night the two met up with explosive results, the Pearl’s superlative sound and majestic-yet-cozy environs bolstering the experience in a way unimaginable at any other theater in town.
From the moment she scampered out to rhythmic recent single “Earth Intruders” to her oddly heartfelt cry of “Merry Christmas!” at the close of rowdy encore “Declare Independence,” everything about the Icelandic vocalist’s final scheduled U.S. appearance felt so momentous it doubtlessly left the 2,000 or so attendees dazed and a bit unable to concentrate on much of anything the following day.
Though a wild finish—a hopped-up climax to “Hyper-Ballad”; a rambunctious “Pluto” that saw the 10-piece female horn section gather in a semicircle around a bouncing Björk; and the raging empowerment capper (“Make your own flag!/Raise your flag!”)—sent folks dancing to their cars, the night’s most salient moments arrived during the singer’s serene down-tempo numbers. Again and again, to borrow a lyric from one such tune, “Jóga,” Björk delivered exquisite “emotional landscapes”—“Unravel,” “Pagan Poetry,” “Wanderlust,” the Icelandic-language “Vökuró”—each time manipulating her otherworldly, unrelentingly expressive voice to the point where it felt as if every tear duct in the room might literally burst open.
Without aid of a costume change, aerial acrobat or dance troupe, the evening felt as dramatic as any production show on the Strip, particularly when it came time for theatrical fare such as “Hunter” and “Bachelorette,” which saw Björk ratchet up and then release oceans of tension, as if starring in the modern equivalent of a 17th-century Venetian opera. Spider-Man-ish webbing shot from her hands, the fantastical gadgetry of her electronic wizards projected onto LCD screens, and giant medieval-style banners hung over the scene, but none of that distracted from the singular musical vision of the evening’s headliner, performing in the rare intimate space capable of handling her giant-size talent.