M83 Suffocates in the Confines of Roseland Theater

It was only a matter of time until Anthony Gonzalez started making glorified soundtracks. M83, the French musician's ethereal synth-pop project, sounds exactly like the murky, post-Cascadia-quake dystopia we're steering toward. And while that often means sweeping, emotive, lingering guitar lines and bracing synthesizers, it doesn't necessarily translate to a thrilling live performance.

Credit to Gonzalez and company for their energy, especially in the midst of a Coachella hangover. Pixilated as its sound can be, it's always cool to see the live instrumentation outweigh the backdrop of ambient effects, especially for a group like M83, which is typically the creation of one guy in a studio. But the grandiosity of M83 needs ample room to operate, whether that be in sprawling festival grounds or on the big screen. The Roseland, which it played last night in the first of two appearances, is far from intimate, but the band's arena-ready clap-alongs, hoisted guitars and drifting dream-pop seemed to be clawing at the rafters. Maybe it was the many meaty dancing bros, the venue's unfortunate layout, or the group's reach-for-the-stars sound, but either way, the band just felt trapped.

M83 pulled from most of its discography, careful not to overdo it with the moody interludes and injecting extra percussion to keep things lively. The saxophone—an instrument Gonzalez has almost single-handedly resurrected over the last 15 years—featured prominently, especially in tracks from 2011's standout record Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. Surprisingly, Gonzalez's newest material, from the polarizing, recently released Junk, worked best. The jumpy "Road Blaster" is befitting of the famous cantina scene from Star Wars, while "Go!" mixed house and funk. The newer stuff felt like fun one-offs from Gonzalez's early-aughts days reconstructing pop-rock.

But as good and downright hypnotic as tracks like "Wait" and "Midnight City" are, M83 is a full-blown festival band now—and festival bands thrive in huge spaces, under big lights, adrift in a sea of screaming fans, not midsized theaters.

All photos by Henry Cromett.

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