It was clear from the standing ovation she got from just stepping on stage, that Tuesday night’s audience at The Paramount was in love, not like, with Regina Spektor. And considering the performance she gave, you can hardly blame the audience for being so smitten. Clad in a perfectly prim pinafore Regina Spektor captivated the Paramount audience for an hour and a half with a set that constantly surprised and never bored.

Regina has nothing to worry about when it comes to her fans forgetting the words to their favorite songs, as she sang in the second song of the evening, “Eet.” The crowd sang softly along to nearly every verse (stopping only for the Russian verse in “Apres Moi”), showing an impressive familiarity and fondness for her entire catalogue. While the set was clearly focused on songs from her most recent release Far, Regina also played most of Disc 1 of Begin to Hope (”Samson,” “Fidelity,” “On The Radio,” “Hotel Song,”  ”Apres Moi,” “That Time”), fan favorites from Soviet Kitsch (”Ode To A Divorce,” “Poor Little Rich Boy”), and a number of bawdy acapella gems. As someone more familiar with Regina’s older tunes, I felt very well taken care of that evening. She played through my wish list of old songs, while introducing me to new favorites. Any worry that her best songs had already been written or her witticism dulled by mainstream success was allayed.

Seeing Regina Spektor live was a wonderful reminder of what I liked so much about her in the first place: her undeniable talent and surprising dualities. Her songs and performances are as complex and sophisticated, as they are goofy and quirky. She is classically trained, but retains a raw edge and a bold personality. Her lyrics and her voice traipse between soothingly sweet and jarringly bitter.  She is unabashedly talented, showing off impressive vocal range, trilingualism(she sang in English, French, & Russian), a sneaky wit, and an insatiable curiosity to try and master new things. During the set Regina played guitar, grand piano, and drummed on a chair, while still playing piano. She performed pieces  that ranged from comedic performance art, to the emotional intimate cabaret tunes she was first noticed for, to an all out country shit kicker. Surprising no one (and simultaneously everyone) Regina Spektor proved she would be a kick ass honky tonk singer with her final encore “Love You’re a Whore.”  By the end of the night and that encore, which made the Parmount seem like the world’s swankiest barn, I was convinced Regina could do most anything she set her mind to, and do it well.

And I wasn’t the only one with overflowing appreciation for Regina. Between every song someone in the audience cried out their devotion. There were choruses of “I love you Regina,” “I love you mores,” numerous requests to have her babies, and she was even showered with a few sweet nothings in Russian.  And it’s not just adults who are captivated by the ingenue. A toddler in our section yelled at the top of her lungs with a speech impediment, “I wuv  you Weh-gee-na!” During the encore, perched upon her mom’s shoulders, the same toddler presented Regina with a boquet of flowers. It was enough to make the most hardened jaded heart melt into a puddle of awwwws.

Throughout the show Regina seemed stunned by the audience’s response, though I’m sure she’s hearing the same thing at sold out shows across the country. She said that men all across America have been calling out about having her babies this tour. (“….um thanks, I guess.”) Her nerves were palpable during the first few songs, leaving her vocals shaky and soft. About four songs in, she found her stride and confidence, singing with surprising force. When she really lets herself belt out a line, the tone of her voice is rich, sassy, and full of personality. Much like her piano arrangements, Regina’s vocals are rewardingly complex. Her lyrics are as clever as ever, still lamenting life’s most unfortunate situations with levity.

Was Regina Spektor’s show at the Paramount perfect? No. But you wouldn’t have known that with the audience continuously crying out about their love for Regina, or the three standing ovations, or the way it felt to witness her boundrayless talent. It’s the kind of talent that makes the  tiny hairs on your arms stand on ends, that gives you chills, that makes your chin quiver uncontrollably. (I admit, I cried.)  Seeing Regina Spektor live was more than enjoyable, it was inspiring. And based on the devotion of that audience and the talent we were treated to, I suspect we’ll be seeing Regina selling out the Paramount for years, if not decades to come.  And we’ll all be there in the audience, not a one of us forgetting the lyrics to our favorite songs.