The first words I heard after Diamond Rings began his set on Monday, Feb. 14 at the Riviera were not promising: “That got real weird, real fast,” said the guy next to me, a single eyebrow raised high. Watching the gangly solo performer, who was one of the two openers before Robyn, for even a second during his first song confirmed, yes, this is weird. The reason Rings seemed so bizarre was the same reason water can taste so strange when you’re expecting to sip down Pepsi. Rings had nothing the audience expected him to have, and it took his entire set for the Riv to recover.
He first appeared onstage between a keyboard/laptop arrangement and a resting guitar, back facing the crowd, throwing up some syncopated fist pumps to his first song, “Play By Heart,” a dark, electro mystery. The thin, lanky 24-year-old was outfitted in tight red pants, gold chains, a baggy tank top announcing his identity, vampy eye shadow and a random, exotic mask on a head that was topped off with a flippy chunk of white hair parted on the side, the other side completely shaven. The fist pumps continued until the verse began, when Rings whipped around, crouching low and slowly extending his huge, bony limbs in all directions. Then his voice was unleashed-that moment the water hits your tongue instead of Pepsi.
Here is this long, scrawny, gawky structure squirming around to bubblegum piano loops and a drum machine, and out of his mouth comes this full, deep, unwavering baritone. This unearthly combination of image and sound was confusing. At first, it was almost funny, and no one around me could figure out why. Should I like this giant David Bowie monster? Should I laugh at this? What is this?
Slowly, the laughter turned into “Hmm,” then the “Hmm” turned into “Sure, alright.” By the end of the set, the “Sure, alright” turned to “Where’s your merch booth, bro?”
Although at times the nervous Rings was trying painfully hard to impress the packed Chicago venue (and, unbeknownst to him, he did, especially with “Wait & See” and “Something Else”), he was giving us something we neither expected nor seen before. Rotating between playing guitar and keyboard or letting the laptop carry the load, Rings took the crowd through a set list of simple, catchy ’80s synth beats with deep, hypnotic vocals a la Cut Copy meets The Cure meets “The Phantom of the Opera.”
The likable, attitude-filled “Show Me Your Stuff” kept Rings behind the keys until what I learned/feared would be the inevitable dance break. The couple of tall, stationary men in front of me summed it up best: “That’s what tall guys look like when they dance. That’s why we don’t.”
Put simply, Diamond Rings is a horrible dancer. But, boy, does he love to dance. Watching him literally jump and wiggle like a dolphin onstage was painful, until you caught the glimpse of a rare smile of his face.
Yes, it absolutely looks like he’s controlling his body in a way a baby would if it suddenly grew giant limbs and realized it could walk. But his childishly sincere smile relieved the crowd of feeling so nervous for him and made everyone happy at how much fun he was finally having. And although experiencing the limb-iest, most awkward, weirdest body movements ever, the crowd stopped laughing, judging, and scratching their heads long enough to enjoy what turned out to be good, clean, electro pop and finally have some fun too.