WORDS: Amélie Khiar
PICTURES: Adela Loconte, Brooklyn Vegan
April 23, 2023
On Thursday night, 4/20, Model/Actriz performed their final show in support of their new album, Dogsbody, at Chelsea’s relatively-new Racket NYC. This venue was the biggest they’d played so far, a homecoming show to bookend the mostly sold out nights before. Inside, the audience was far different from the fans of David Cronenberg’s Crash and early Nine Inch Nails you’d expect them to be; the average concert-goer was wearing jeans and carrying a tote bag. Most stuck towards the back of the venue and continued their conversations all the way through the opening act.
Brutus VIII, the opener, came on at 8:15 with a scantily-clad dancer in tow. The instrumentals for all his songs were entirely on an SP-404 sampler, so the visuals provided by his stage partner Alena Henke were much needed. Brutus VIII, dressed like a college professor going to the goth club, matched the dancer, who wore white Keds and whose hair was coiffed into milkmaid braids that got messier as the show went on. While Brutus VIII’s songs were good (“Japanese Candy” being a standout track), Henke’s dances made her the star of the show. For many of the songs, she oscillated wildly between possessed creature, prima ballerina, and jazzercise instructor. Brutus VIII’s strong vocals, reminiscent of Peter Murphy’s on The Sky’s Gone Out, made Henke’s dance seem more urgent and important. Barring a few cringe-worthy comments, like “we’re the real New York indie sleaze,” Brutus VIII’s was a perfect band to open for Model/Actriz.
Before Model/Actriz took the stage, two LED screens to either side of the drummer, Ruben Radlauer, were unsheathed, fluctuating between different abstract, swirling red patterns, evoking viscera. Guitarist Jack Wetmore and bassist Aaron Shapiro joined Radlauer on stage, but vocalist Cole Haden lagged behind. When he eventually came out, it was to raucous applause. Haden wore five inch platform boots, a crocheted bunny hat, and an intricate ensemble with a white tulle vest and ribbons on the sleeves. He used these ribbons like tentacles, brushing them over the audience that was eagerly watching him like some sort of industrial/no-wave preacher. The show itself was a mix between songs from pre-Dogsbody, songs on Dogsbody, and one potentially new song. Following their first song “Donkey Show,” Haden hopped off the stage, extremely-long-corded mic in hand. The singer’s style veers towards the uncomfortably close, leaning way in and singing in a way that entrances the listener. The crowd practically chanted the lyrics to the songs “Mosquito” and “Amaranth,” before, at some point, his microphone disconnected and he begrudgingly made his way back to the stage. After “Matador” and “New Face,” lights shone onto the audience, prompting Haden to ask for them to stay on. The audience clapped and cheered like he was a winning pageant queen. When the applause died down, he said “Okay, that’s enough,” and went into singing a song written as “Winn” on the setlist. After “Crossing Guard,” and before “Slate,” Haden pointed out his mother and sister, who were to the side of the stage. He then proceeded to put the mic stand to his crotch and wave it around haphazardly.
While Cole Haden was clearly positioned to be the star, I would be remiss to not mention the talent of Model/Actriz. A lot of the album almost sounded computer generated, but on stage, both Wetmore and Shapiro were able to produce the metallic screeching of these songs with three foot long pedalboards. Radlauer’s drumming on “Pure Mode” was particularly notable, hitting the cymbal so fast his hand seemed to blur, and Shapiro’s slides merged perfectly with Wetmore’s methodical strumming. The final song played was the album closer, “Sun In,” which Haden made expressly clear would be their last, probably to deter the copious encore requests they would’ve received. In contrast to the last forty minutes Haden spent intermittently yelling, “Sun In” was soft, allowing him to show off his vocal prowess. It was a perfect closer for the concert, like a lullaby of sorts.