As a shimmering light show blinded the crowd, “Surfing on a Rocket” played out as a desperately gorgeous serenade beamed in via satellite.
The premed pillow talk of “Biological”—“Some skin, billions of genes again it’s you. / XX, XY that’s why it’s you and me”—became a launching pad for an intergalactic jam that ebbed and flowed off into eternity, and would still be building to new crescendos were it not for the constraints of human energy.
“Run,” a heartbreaking, glitchy ballad for the era of damaged CDs, appeared in hollowed out form, leaving the synth to soar gorgeously, high above the bass.
Putting on their metaphorical robot masks for a moment to channel that other French electronic duo, Daft Punk, Air turned “Sexy Boy” and “Kelly Watch the Stars” into pure synth euphoria, gleefully eradicating all remaining humanity in their music to thrilling effect.
The audience loved it, calling the band back for two encores, and prompting Godin to proclaim, “You’re the best crowd we’ve had since the beginning of the tour, and I swear I never say that.”
Knowing Air, though, he was probably just trying to get us in his Caddy.
—Staff writer Nathaniel A. Smith can be reached at nsmith@fas.harvard.edu.