St. Vincent at Grace Cathedral: Rock ‘n’ Roll Genius — and Comedy Gold

St. Vincent has a soft spot for San Francisco. Bathed in red light beneath Grace Cathedral’s high ceilings Sunday night, the artist remembered first arriving here from suburban Dallas as a teenager to visit her aunt and uncle, the jazz duo Tuck & Patti. Showing her around town, they took her to Amoeba Music on Haight Street, where a cashier with a cool haircut and Replacements T-shirt invited the young St. Vincent to start a band.

“Oh, there’s life outside. There’s a whole city of fuckin’ freaks,” St. Vincent remembered realizing. The former teenage misfits in the audience approvingly cheered. “There’s some place I belong.”

Coming off an incredibly hot streak — performing at SNL50, winning three Grammys, fronting Nirvana at FireAid LA — St. Vincent came back to San Francisco on Sunday night to have some fun. At Grace Cathedral, she kicked off her shoes, sang stunning ballads and snuck in a few dirty jokes.

The concert at the iconic landmark was part of Noise Pop, and was clearly the festival’s biggest get. When St. Vincent comes to the Bay, she usually plays large-capacity venues like Bill Graham Civic Auditorium and the Greek Theatre. Naturally, tickets sold out immediately for the intimate show at the Gothic church perched atop Nob Hill.

Dressed in a black silk top, matching skirt and sheer stockings, St. Vincent appeared holding her signature angular guitar through a mist of fog that floated up to the 91-ft. high ceilings. She began her set elegantly with “Hell Is Near,” the opening track of her 2024 album All Born Screaming. With a slower tempo, and drums and electronics stripped away, St. Vincent’s unfiltered voice came through with striking clarity, tenderness and range as the keyboardist from her band, Rachel Eckroth, accompanied her on grand piano.

This minimalist approach to St. Vincent’s new material offered space to contemplate her existential lyrics, all about embracing, almost in a Buddhist way, the agony and ecstasy that make up our short time here on Earth. During “Violent Times,” she followed up a line about the petrified lovers of Pompeii with a raw, emotional vocal run; chills passed down my spine, and my eyes welled up with tears.

For all the poetry and beauty of her music, St. Vincent is also goofy as hell, and posseses impeccable comedic timing. When choosing her setlist from her vast catalogue, she stayed away from the punchy synth-pop of “Loss Ageless” or snarling guitar licks of “Broken Man,” and leaned into her older ballads.

“Here’s another blast from the past — another finger blast from the past,” she said impishly as she introduced “Marry Me,” a love song addressed to a man, which put St. Vincent on the map in 2007. Delayed giggles rang throughout the church as people got the joke. She sweetly sang the line, “You won’t realize I’ve gone,” before breaking out of character and exclaiming her truth: “’Cause I’m gay!”

St. Vincent: rock ‘n’ roll genius and … secret comedian?

“Yeah, let’s gooo, San Francisco, it’s another motherfuckin’ heartfelt ballad,” she called out in the deep bellow of a sports bro before coyly perching up on the piano to sing the love song “Candy Darling” from Daddy’s Home, her 2021 album oozing with early ’70s sleaze.

She might’ve been relaxed and playful, but St. Vincent’s singing and guitar playing never faltered. The gorgeous 90-minute set came to a close with a sparse, downtempo version of her funk song “The Melting of the Sun,” which she ended with a guitar solo delicate as a spider web as she ushered us into the foggy, moonlit night.

Noise Pop concerts continue at San Francisco venues through March 2.