By Rachel Kobasa and Emma Wippermann

Usually when I go to a concert, I am going for the headlining band. The opening bands turn out to be either great new people to Google when I get home or just a nuisance preventing me from hearing who I really went to see. But on Tuesday night I went to the First Unitarian Church in Philadelphia purposefully to see the opening act for Islands, Jemina Pearl.

Before Jemina, I had to listen to a guy named Chaz whose music identity is Toro Y Moi. He had his laptop, a mixing board, and a microphone. He would sing and then fuss around on his mixing board adding beats and remixing the words he had just sung.

Now, I may be a little old-school, but I’m not such a fan of all this electronically made music. I like seeing people playing actual instruments instead of fiddling with knobs.

This being said, Toro Y Moi wasn’t bad. His voice before being sent through wires and computer chips is quite lovely. I would definitely play his music at some cool party to combat Miley Cyrus virus. By the end of his set though, I was ready for them to bring on Jemina.

“I’m Jemina Pearl and this is my band,” she said. Bam. Right into the first song. No dillydallying or pointless “How you doing, Philadelphia?!” It was apparent from the start that the Ramones song “Sheena is a Punk Rocker” could be rewritten to say “Jemina is a punk rocker.”

I mean, she even had that typical blonde rocker shag hair cut that strategically covered her face and every time she shook her head her, which was often, her hair shook along. She owned the microphone and danced around the stage. In fact, everyone in her band did (except for the drummer, but he has an excuse.) There were two guitarists and a bass player, none of whom were awkwardly bouncing or stiffly moving.

Jemina Pearl opened with a cover of a Wayne song, "The Hammer Will Fall." There was a brief pause in between songs, then someone would say “Ready?,” a nod, and then once again, bam! Right into the next song. There were no drawn out endings. When Jemina Pearl sang her last note, that was that.

I was anxiously awaiting and so excited to hear her play “I Hate People,” my go-to song for bad days. With lyrics that say, “Oh I, I hate people. But I, I like you. Oh I, I hate people. And you, you do too!” how could you go wrong? It’s set to a catchy, slightly poppy tune but add Jemina’s funky voice and it turns badass.

On top of that, her album version of the song features Iggy Pop on the chorus. I had small hopes that maybe Iggy himself would show up for a little guest appearance. It didn’t happen, but the song rocked anyhow with more dancing and head shaking. The rest of the set was as excellent as the beginning, and it solidified my love for Jemina Pearl.

Nick Diamonds (real name, Nick Thorburn) emerged from backstage wearing a bejeweled Elvis cape, matching fingerless-gloves, and a very retro pair of sunglasses—going, perhaps, for a more clothed version of Kevin Barnes’ glam look. The band played songs primarily from their newest album Vapours, which was released in September, and the first few songs were disappointingly lackluster, especially in comparison to Diamonds’ glittering cape. For the fourth song, however, he removed and folded his cape, laid it carefully on a spare amp in the back of the stage, and picked up his guitar. And with the edition of the second guitar, the music was suddenly so much fuller, incredibly catchy, and very easy to dance to.

Islands is the project founded by Nick Diamonds and drummer J’Aime Tambeur (real name, Jamie Thompson) after the disbandment of the Unicorns. Their first album, Return to the Sea, kept the quirky, catchy style of the Unicorns, and included collaborations with members of the Arcade Fire and Wolf Parade. Formally a six-member group, Islands became four for Vapours, which is a departure from both of their previous albums. It’s more austere and polished, featuring sequenced programming, more synths, drum machines, and an electric sitar.

The audience was smaller than the usual standing mass at the Church, but obviously full of enthusiastic fans; everyone knew all the lyrics, danced, and clapped to the beat. By the time Islands played the infectiously-upbeat “Don’t Call Me Whitney, Bobby,” from their first album, no one in the audience wasn’t smiling and dancing—even the hipster-est of hipsters was moving more than the standard foot-tap/head-nod combo.

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