As rain fell upon thousands of wet heads in Brooklyn’s McCarren Pool last Friday evening, Regina Spektor’s classically trained hands danced on the keys of her Steinway grand piano. Although Spektor brings together the worlds of pop, rock and classical, there is no mistaking her sound—poppy, theatrical, humorous and, at times, touching—for that of another artist.
Spektor’s tongue danced around, too. Sometimes it sounded like she had two tongues—one for singing and one for doing anything but. As in her recorded material, she often took quick, sharp turns from singing making sounds that are almost indescribable. She punctuated her singing with bits of what can be called post-modernist scatting—playfully mangling a word the crowd expected her to sing beautifully, theatrically stuttering a consonant or suddenly dropping a conversational aside.
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