woodkid's eruption 

Kenalyn Ang

Two years after The Golden Age tour, Woodkid has released a studio recording of his instrumental track Volcano. It’s just as sharp as fans anticipated and remember from the tour, but to new listeners unaware of Volcano’s existence, it may come as a surprise not hearing Woodkid’s velvet voice pulsing through his usually meditative and cozy compositions.

Like his previous songs Run Boy Run and Falling, Volcano is a good representation of Woodkid’s knack for blending thundering and militaristic percussions and winds. A trumpet blares throughout his 2013 song The Golden Age, calling the listener as well as Woodkid to attention, while in Volcano the hiss and start of several snare drums awaken the listener, who is enticed with what is to come. In both instances the listener may envision marching, bouncing a basketball, or any repetitive action consistent with the tedious instrumental beating flowing into their eardrums. However, Volcano is unlike much of his other musical work, as it may feel more mechanical, synthetic and edgier in comparison to tracks such as Conquest of Spaces (The Golden Age 2013) and The Golden Age (title track on The Golden Age 2013). Here there is no piano, or most importantly, Woodkid’s vocals to melt and stitch the piece together. While he usually incorporates such sounds to blend his works together, in Volcano he disregards this norm and chooses to focus on a tuba and brass hook. He’s biting, lashing out at his listeners, but efficiently, and never at any point of the track does it turn desperate. On and off there looms a distant wailing reminiscent of a bomb siren, and it’s accompanied by slapping thumps, echoing off the imaginary walls as buzzed reverberations zip in and out of the buildup. Is Woodkid pacing, thrashing to and fro as his instrumentalists smack their drums or feverishly blow into their horns? Watching his live performance of Volcano at Zenith de Paris might give you a better idea of what he had in mind. 

Woodkid’s live performance of Volcano further emphasizes that this song is such a performance and show piece. It effectively showcases Woodkid as a musical artist, graphic designer, and music video director because of the stellar collaboration he’s accomplished through his lighting, musicians’ choreography, and visuals. Onstage, the visuals are mirrored, with string, wind and percussion groups all equidistant and symmetrical on both sides of the stage. The two lone men on the bass drums and long, single file line of masked, hooded men on the snare drums dominate the stage, contributing significantly to the feel of the song. Their movements exude purpose as they smack the sounds together, paving the path for Woodkid to literally crouch out towards the audience. Meanwhile, beams of bright, white, light flash, washing the entire audience in strips of clarity as they watch these ominous musicians onstage. The visual aid behind these figures further contributes to the mechanical and militaristic feel of the piece, as a black and white image of what looks like machinery methodically folds in and out. Thus his visual and hearing aids are great bonuses to the show, but does his performance present Woodkid as a great dancer, or most importantly, entertainer? Maybe not.

After awkwardly crouching down the catwalk, Woodkid pounces out and into the limelight, clad in harem pants, the usual baseball cap and tee, and what look like high top skater shoes. The artist bounces in place, one arm up pointing to the sky as the first buildup comes crashing down (see around 00:58 of the video). It’s a bit awkward, as his harem pants sloppily swish to and fro in contrast with the incredibly punctual visuals and beats surrounding him. It gets worse, as he starts to do something quite similar to the ‘pop and lock’, and then messily whacks his arms side to side (look up ‘waacking’ for some real 70s disco). There are too many modern dance references to be made here, as later he runs in place, Gangnam style. Watch the video on mute, and at certain sections of his performance Woodkid’s hand motions make it seem like he’s rapping out a verse. Sauntering upstage, he actually swaggers side to side in an attempt to strut. He whips his hand back and forth (too reminiscent of the ‘nae nae’ for it to be enjoyable to watch), and then proudly folds his little arms across his chest. After repeatedly pumping his little arm up in the air, I can’t help but think of a Woodkid bobble head. At 2:17 to 2:33, he frantically runs from stage right to left, imitating the beams of light waving across the venue. Yet this running does not add to the show or experience, as once again his ridiculous harem pants and capped head look sloppy compared to the majestic and epic surroundings. Then, at about 3:10 he creepily grins and nods his head out-in out-in at his cheering, encouraging fans. 
Woodkid’s performance is comical. It would probably be better for viewers to watch the show rather than Woodkid himself, despite the fact that the lights also get a bit hectic (see 4:35 of the video). 

At several points of the music video, I found myself asking “Where did Woodkid go?”, as he constantly scurried stage right to left and was absorbed by the rest of his show. Often times the lights got too bright to enjoy, but maybe this was a good thing, as it distracted from Woodkid scrambling about, attempting to use up the entire space and stage allotted. The whole end of the video with the masked, hooded men coming forward might have been incredible to see in person, but from Youtube it reminded me too much of a high school band team at a homecoming (American) football game, drumming the rhythm to a flag or song dance routine. I’ve been a fan of Woodkid’s for quite a while now, as thousands of listeners worldwide have been too. I don’t doubt his abilities as a designer or musician or his one of a kind talent, and will continue to enjoy his music. But while I can definitely recommend Volcano as a song to check out, I cannot suggest watching Woodkid’s performance of it to be an enjoyable experience.