The first time I heard Asaf Avidan's recordings I was blown away but also unsure of what to think. An arm's length from the core of what I normally listen to, Avidan's music exists in a bluesy folk realm that can sometimes feel derivative of those that came before. But I appreciated the boundaries that last year's Different Pulses seemed to push against, and I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around the impassioned, androgynous vocals. I had to see someone actually singing those sounds to believe they came from a human being, rather than, say, the witch-cursed oak trees in Wizard of Oz. The ones who threw apples at Dorothy.

Asaf Avidan at Irving Plaza. Photo by Sofia Elamrani (Instagram: @sofiaelamrani) Avidan is a wiry Israeli guy who worked for years as an animator before a difficult break-up with a longtime girlfriend caused him to pick up a guitar and begin writing songs. In one of several stories he shared with audiences attending his show at Irving Plaza on Friday, he described this love as "geological," comparing it to the shifting of tectonic plates. Instead of mountain ranges, a rift grew between the two, spurring his career as a musician. He began it as leader of Asaf Avidan & the Mojos, releasing three albums over a period of seven years, before striking out solo. Different Pulses is his first proper solo album, following up a collection of live acoustic songs entitled Avidan in a Box. It couldn't have dropped at a better time; an unauthorized EDM remix of "One Day (Reckoning Song)" by German DJ Wankelmut was making the rounds, expanding Avidan's already healthy fanbase. It grew so popular that Avidan's label eventually pursued its legal release, and though the track had been used without permission initially, it ended up being a boon for Avidan. At Irving Plaza, he played selections spanning his entire catalogue, including "Hangwoman" "Your Anchor" "Out in the Cold" and a few that have yet to see release. While the acoustic numbers were a great backdrop for his powerhouse vocals, the most intriguing tunes in the set were built from loops, allowing Avidan to expand his acoustic sound with percussion, keys, and kazoos, among other instruments. These churning, sensuous offerings had a captivating effect on an otherwise restless crowd - plenty of folks in the audience saw fit to carry on conversations so loud that widespread "Shhhhing" occurred during an admittedly long-winded retelling of David and Bathsheba. Avidan, it seems, doesn't believe in stage banter so much as sharing stories to introduce his songs, a move which started to feel a bit superfluous. Mentioning that he read the Bible as literature or that time is an arbitrary construct felt almost cheap alongside songs that are so verbose and grandly imagined; any impatience on the part of the audience was likely rooted in the fact that everyone just wanted to hear more music.

Asaf Avidan at Irving Plaza. Photo by Sofia Elamrani (Instagram: @sofiaelamrani) And truly, it's a difficult thing to wait and see what Avidan's next move will be. He's proven his brilliance as a songwriter and performer, and indistinctly gendered vocals are having a bit of a moment (Rhye comes to mind; they played down the street at Webster Hall that same evening). Avidan stands out for his rawness, his intense delivery part and parcel to the artistry with which he composes his material. Avidan's work is in every way driven by an exploration of the possibilities inherent in music making, while the timeless qualities of his music ensure that he'll be making it for a long time to come.

LIVE REVIEWAsaf Avidan at Irving Plaza