‘Cigarettes After Sex’ absolutely “crushes” concert, enchants audience

Graphic by Anya Perel-Arkin

By Shreya Partha

To say that attending the Cigarettes After Sex concert on Sunday night was a spiritual, cleansing experience would be an understatement. But as the saying goes, if it’s too good to be true, it probably is. While the band itself did not disappoint, other parts of their concert did. 

Not only did the opening act come on 50 minutes later than they were supposed to, they were a huge letdown. The duo, known famously as The Furniture, attempted to woo the audience with their instrumentals, yet, ultimately, fell short of the high expectations most had for them, considering who they were opening for. Their songs felt like a string of notes awkwardly placed together in an attempt to sound different. While their attempts were generously noted, their sound did not fit the essence of what Cigarettes After Sex encapsulated. Their music was entirely unexpected in the worst way. No one could predict what came next in their “songs.” Quite frankly, I could not decipher when one song ended and the next one started partly because I tuned them out because my ears were in physical pain from the cacophony. 

When Cigarettes After Sex finally took the stage, it was hard to deny the absolute ferality of the audience. With the perfect opener in “Crush,” the band immediately enraptured me with their skillful bassist, Randy Miller(he/him), vocals by lead singer Greg Gonzolez(he/him)) and drummer Jacob Tomsky(he/him). “Crush” has always been a (somewhat) underrated fan favorite and their choice to choose this song to open over one of their more popular songs like “Apocalypse” or “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby” is an extremely impressive move in not only building suspense, but promoting a song that does not get as much love. 

Although I am an avid fan of all of their songs, the two I was looking forward to the most were “Falling in Love” and “Sunsetz,” and I was not disappointed. As the chorus for “Falling in Love” came on, the lead singer’s, Greg Gonzolez (he/him), voice was completely drowned out, overpowered by the audience’s collective enthusiasm and voice. Though House of Blues is a relatively bigger venue in Boston, the band’s interaction and performance made it feel as though the performance were much more intimate and personal.  

While it shouldn’t have been, the most surprising part of the concert to me was how easily I started to like songs that I never thought I would. “Sweet” was one of those songs I heard the first two measures of and immediately skipped. It wasn’t that I hated the song, but its merit has always felt subpar compared to their other songs. Yet, the absolute passion and vigor the song was sung with live coupled with the bass, drums, and pulsating energy made “Sweet” one of my favorite songs to listen to. Post-concert, I haven’t been able to stop replaying “Sweet,” it’s become the soundtrack to my day to day life.

For some, Cigarettes After Sex is simply a band they came across and liked; to me, their music was one of the only things that got me through quarantine without completely falling apart. Comparatively to other artists, listening to a song of theirs cannot be done in casualty; to actively choose to listen to their songs means a proactive decision to subject yourself to an immersive experience — whether you are listening to them live or on Spotify. 

Their closing number was — once again — the perfect choice. “Apocalypse” is their most popular song with 485 million streams on Spotify, and with good reason. The song is a vivid shift from their lighter, airy songs into a more limerent dive into a darker imagery. In the song, Gonzolez acknowledges the pain his lover has gone through but urges her to let go of that heartbreak and see that he’s there for her through it all. To set the mood even further, a huge disco ball hung from the ceiling and lights were angled toward it during this song to create a sultry, sensual mood that illuminated everyone’s face with specs of light that moved as the mirrorball did. 

As expected, once “Apocalypse” ended, fans raved for an encore number and the band acquiesced without hesitancy with “Opera House” and “Dreaming of You.” I admit that while their choice of encore numbers was a little saddening, the mood the mirrorball set made up for the strange choice. My post-concert depression is all too real, but as I listen to Cigarettes After Sex now, being able to say I heard their songs in concert somewhat compensates for the emptiness I feel inside.