[Concert Review] Ichiko Aoba and Owen Pallett Mesmerize Phoenix with Intimate, Ethereal Performances
At the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts, something magical unfolded—an evening with Owen Pallett and Ichiko Aoba that felt more like a dream than a concert.
The night began with Owen stepping into a quiet, darkened room, guitar in hand and a calm energy that immediately shifted the tone. “Arizona is such a beautiful state,” he said, before launching into a delicate set that held the crowd in stillness. His use of loop pedals—layering guitar, violin, and soft vocals—created rich, live instrumentals that filled the room with warmth and wonder. At one point, he joked, “I do a Q&A without the A,” and the crowd played along awkwardly but endearingly. It was dry, funny, and very Owen.
One of the highlights was watching him build entire songs on the spot—each layer added with intention, especially during his fourth song, which had a powerful blend of strings, rhythm, and melody. Even from the press deck, the emotional weight of his music was clear. After the set, he was kind and approachable at the merch table, even sharing stories about his cover of Guided By Voices’ “Game of Pricks,” which, surprisingly, was improvised on the fly.
Then came Ichiko.
She stepped onstage at 8:46 PM to a wave of applause. No big entrance, just a quiet hum and the gentle strumming of her guitar. Her voice was crystalline—soothing, raw, and surreal. Without even needing to understand the lyrics, you could feel everything she sang. At times, the music was so delicate that even the click of a camera shutter felt intrusive. People barely moved. Some, like me, closed their eyes and let her voice carry them away.
Ichiko switched between guitar and keyboard throughout the night, blending soft folk and ambient pop in a way that felt entirely her own. Her version of “Soto wa Senjou da yo” by Cornelius, sung entirely in French, showed just how versatile she is—not just musically, but linguistically too. She floated effortlessly between English, Spanish, French, and Japanese. Each interaction, whether a simple “Thank you” or a humorous aside about loving Arizona’s cacti, deepened the connection between her and the audience.
The setlist pulled heavily from Windswept Adan and Luminescent Creatures, both of which translated beautifully live. A favorite of the night was “Kikaijikake no Uchuu”, a haunting 10-minute ballad that left the entire room breathless. After a short break, Ichiko returned for an encore, delivering a playful, high-pitched rendition of “Sayonara Penguin” (yes, complete with penguin sounds), and closing the night with “bouquet.” Her guitar skills, paired with that ethereal voice, made the encore feel personal—like a gift just for us.
Whether you were a long-time fan or hearing her music live for the first time, Ichiko left a lasting mark. It wasn’t just a show. It was a rare, once-in-a-lifetime experience—one that made you want to explore more of her discography, sit with her lyrics, and chase the feeling she left behind.
