A giant gaping commercialized chasm housed three acts of guitar playing indie artists.  The difference between the venue’s feel and the music being put out was striking.  This was a hall, the Best Buy Theater in Times Square, to be exact, that revealed a shocking amount of love at the Ingrid Michaelson with Guggenheim Grotto and Bess Rogers concert I attended on October 13th.

The first act, Bess Rogers was a sugary happy twenty something with her ukelele, guitar, and pixie cut.  The audience comprised of mostly white “artsy” girls and their boyfriends (who must have been dragged there) did not direct much attention towards her.  Her soft tones floated through the air, not creating much of an effect.  It was only when she acoustically covered the Def Leppard song “Pour some sugar on me” that the group smiled, swayed, and sung along.

The Guggenheim Grotto was a band of scruffy Irish boys who played with a little more intensity, and charmed most of the surrounding women with their Irish brogues.  Their set was innocuous and rock infused. Apologetically, they finished their folksy set and went offstage, to be replaced by a bunch of people in black hoods, backed up by electric guitars.  The crowd was stirred into a Yankee Stadium type of uproar.  Slowly, they removed their hoods and there stood Ingrid Michaelson, the thirty year old socially awkward artist with glasses and a Staten Island attitude, and her band revealed themselves.

Her three CDS,  “Girls and Boys,” “Be OK,” and “Everybody” have so many play counts on my iTunes that it’s a little embarrassing. Seeing her onstage, riffing on her songs about love, growing up and hats brought an entire new dimension to her work.  The audience mouthed the words as the joy and intimacy (a word that Ingrid said during the night that she hates) radiated from her voice to the crowd.  Suddenly, those songs I sing along to in my bedroom got maximized a thousand times.

Another aspect that really excited me was Ingrid’s sheer candidness with the audiences.  She told stories about Twitter, LeAnn Rhimes and cookies.  She also gently poked fun at whoever piped up in her audience.  Her stage presence is that of a shy girl who is off in her own world, who you know must be creating something great in her head.  The audience lapped up her stories and cracked up constantly.

Ingrid’s vocal talent is evident.  Her technique was supremely blended with her emotions and her pitch perfect music soared through the area.  She did a cover of REM’s “Night Swimming” using a vocal loop and two microphones, so it sounded like she was harmonizing with herself.  Her songs are not the most rangy, often staying with a few instruments and vocal styles, but her comfort zone was such an excellent place to be that none of that mattered.

Overall, there was a feeling of appreciation that swirled through the theater.  The music sounded fantastic and reminded me why Ingrid Michaelson is one of my favorite artists.  Her lyrics are simple yet descriptive, and her melodies exist without pretension.  These factors contributed to a light-hearted night I won’t forget.