Concert review: Sudan Archives at The Grey Eagle
Just a night prior at The Grey Eagle, I had suffered a fate known all too well by short people: standing anywhere beyond the first few rows of fans during a packed concert. And so, I found myself in a claustrophobic state, staring at the backs of heads, attempting to find an angle where I could even catch a glimpse of the night’s stars, of Montreal, whose stage performances are always wild. From my unfortunate point of view, I felt disconnected from anything happening on the stage. The sounds were cool and all, but without the visual it was impossible to stay engaged amongst the surrounding chatter.
When I returned the following night to catch Sudan Archives, I knew what I had to do. Just as I had done when I was first bringing my camera to shows over two decades ago, I arrived early and secured a spot at the front of the stage, anticipating a densely packed crowd for the future superstar.
Getting things started off was The Growth Eternal, the solo project of Los Angeles-based bassist and composer Byron Crenshaw, who would also join Sudan Archives for her set. Distorting his vocals via a vocoder over a jazz-infused R&B soundscape, the atmospheric performance instantly brought to mind the like-minded stylings of L.A.’s Brainfeeder record label (Flying Lotus; Thundercat; Louis Cole). Covers of songs by Porches and Milton Nascimento weren’t entirely recognizable, but the chill vibes beautifully set the mood for what was to come.
The room quickly filled up as Sudan Archives’ set drew closer. Speaking to other fans in my surrounding area, it was clear that everyone was feeling fortunate for the opportunity to witness an artist on the brink of superstardom. There’s nothing quite like seeing an incredible musician perform in an intimate venue that they’d soon outgrow.
Following up her stunning 2019 debut Athena with this year’s wildly ambitious Natural Brown Prom Queen, Sudan Archives has established herself as the one of the most exciting young artists out of L.A.’s incredible scene. On Natural Brown Prom Queen, she sounds free of limitations, embracing and exploring a full gamut of influences — from Betty Davis’ sexually charged funk to Francis Bebey’s playful Cameroonian pop, to crunk and house music — with boundless joy.
From the moment she appeared on stage, the artist born Brittney Parks was magnetic. Adorning a spiky leather crown, the singer moved with the confidence and charisma of a pop star. Parks formed an early bond with her fans when she disappeared off stage, only to reappear within the crowd for a song. Meanwhile, Crenshaw launched extra large balloons from the stage. That early investment into audience engagement paid huge dividends later when she enticed the frenzied crowd into a call-and-response sing-a-long during an explosive performance of her hit “NBPQ (Topless).”
As well as the recent hits played, performances of such older cuts as “Confessions” and “Iceland Moss” were no less thrilling. On those songs, Parks played her violin with an intoxicating exuberance and sensual fire. Throughout the set, no matter how in the zone or intense the moment, there was a palpable glee radiating from the singer. Sometimes we get so focused on talent that we forget how meaningless it all is if an artist isn’t fully enjoying what they’re doing. I can’t vouch for anyone in the back of the room, but from the very front, this Sudan Archives show was an intensely satisfying experience that I expect to continue thinking about for years to come.
(Photos by Jonny Leather)
