Originally posted Sun. Feb. 7; photos by Josh Bis.

More like Peacebirds & Wilddrums, if you want to be more precise… Whatever the case, Swedish wife/husband duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums certainly offer an odd and distinctive approach to live music. Singer Mariam Wallentin and drummer Andreas Werliin play steel drum and a traditional kit, respectively, with Wallentin occasionally slapping a tambourine and Werliin (I think it’s him) triggering strings and bass-synth samples. Over these minimal, rhythmic foundations, Wallentin—who sounds and looks like a cross between Laura Nyro and Patti Smith—sings with tempestuous, exhibitionist soulfulness in English while hubby pounds robust, oblong funk and tribal beats.

• Wildbirds & Peacedrums' Mariam Wallentin

The bulk of their set consisted of torch songs from their Heartcore and The Snake albums—tunes that would appeal to Björk and Kate Bush fans, but without many of the frills and quasi-kooky cult of personality that accompany those two iconic artists’ work. The W&P highlight was “Chain of Steel,” an urgently paced gamelan-like piece capped off by Wallentin’s engrossing scatting of the word “no” at tune’s end. And the massive bass purr of “So Soft So Pink” also made a very strong impression.

St. Vincent (looking like Helena Bonham Carter after years of Pilates) is a disarmingly beautiful and talented leader of a large-ish orch-pop group—the belle of her bastion, you might say. Drums, keyboards, sax, woodwinds, bass, and violin support the guitar-wielding frontwoman, who sings with a creamy sweetness and measured power. Her time spent studying at the Berklee College of Music and playing with the Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens can be detected in the artfully arranged, intricately orchestrated songs that have one foot in the hit parade and the other in the conservatory.

• St. Vincent

Odd time signatures and surprising dynamics temper the sometimes sentimental, sugary melodies, but sporadic tangents into outright dissonance and intense crescendos jostle the mostly decorous proceedings into shocking post-punk territory. A solo performance of Jackson Browne’s “These Days” (made somewhat famous by Nico in 1967) was a dewy gem. Another standout occurred on the sixth song, which bore a dreamy sparkle, like Björk on a budget, until halfway in the tune exploded and eventually swelled in luxurious slow-motion into something resembling “Strawberry Fields Forever.”

I entered this show unfamiliar with St. Vincent (I’d only listened to her latest album, Actor, once) and caught but five minutes of her 2008 Coachella performance, but Saturday night I came away impressed with her poise and songwriting chops, and knack for merging refinement with wildness, melodiousness with discord.

(More photos after the jump.)

• St. Vincent

• St. Vincent

• St. Vincent