On November 14, 2007, Regina Spektor collapsed on stage at the Ryman Auditorium during her sound check. The Russian-born anti-folk pianist was rushed to Vanderbilt where she was treated for an ear-infection that caused vertigo, but wasn’t able to perform that night—much to the chagrin of the hundreds who turned out to see her.

It took four months for Spektor to reschedule her Nashville date, including one false start in December, but on February 27, 2008, ticket holders migrated back to the Ryman for some intense déjà vu. Even after opening act Only Son finished his set, some people in the crowd remained skeptical.

 “This is just like last time,” lamented a girl in the row behind me, “somebody’s gonna come out and say ‘Sorry guys, she fainted again.’” They began to formulate a plan B, in case the show gets cancelled a third time, but I remained optimistic. “She wouldn’t abandon us again,” I thought. That kind of cruelty would never be perpetuated by the piecework image of Regina Spektor I’ve constructed out of her songs, clips off YouTube and an interview in The Onion.

Our patience finally paid off because, soon enough, the lights dimmed and Spektor strolled out on stage wearing a dress that looked like it was made out of a disco ball. By the end of “Ain’t No Cover,” an obscure a capella song off a live EP, Spektor made it very clear how aware she was of the unusual circumstances of her appearance.

“Nice to be here finally,” she said after settling behind her piano, “And it’s nice to be conscious on this stage.”

What is interesting about Regina Spektor’s set is that she seems completely uninterested in keeping a nostalgic eye on her old records, instead opting to perform new and, often, unrecorded tunes that inhabit the same spirit as previous efforts. “Baby Jesus” is a quirky and rapidly sung song about an outsider looking in on religious fanaticism reminiscent of similarly unconventional songs like “Consequence of Sounds” off “Songs,” her second independently released album.

With the exception of one technicality, the entire set was derived from Spektor’s major label releases “Soviet Kitsch” and “Begin to Hope,” as well as the obscure and unreleased peppered in between familiar singles like “Better” and “Poor Little Rich Boy.” And while many would have liked to have heard songs like “Ne Me Quitte Pas” or anything else from “11:11” or “Songs,” there is no denying the quality of the newer songs. Or, at least, there’s no denying the quality of the piano songs. The guitar is an entirely different story.

In the middle of her set, Spektor left the safety of her piano to pick up a bright cyan guitar nearby to play a grand total of two songs. The first, “Bobbing for Apples,” utilized two strings while the grand guitar finale, “That Time,” dropped down to one lone string. Spektor poked fun at her own admission about not really knowing how to play guitar joking, “My next guitar song is just going to be a surreal implication of the idea of a guitar.”

Even when performing an instrument that she hasn’t entirely mastered, Spektor’s strongest suit of her skills as a songwriter and a singer shine through. Spektor is the best reason why we shouldn’t let American Idol dictate what makes a singer great. Spektor’s music bridges classical training with an unconventional style. She isn’t afraid to swallow words or drag out syllables or make unusual sounds, often all three at once, to punch holes in her songs and give the audience something unusual without it sounding phony.

Through out the night, Spektor was extremely gracious and seemed to be in a state of amazement that so many people who had tickets to her cancelled concert four months ago would actually show up for the real deal. She told the audience, flat out, “It’s so cool that you all came back, I can’t believe it.”

Spektor shouldn’t be surprised. There is something magnetic about her music that draws people to it. When Spektor came back on stage to start her encore with “Us,” people began to trickle forward towards the stage. It was as if her fans felt the need to make a pilgrimage to the stage to experience the last handful of songs (several of which performed with Only Son).

The entire night was born out of the kind of excitement that can only be created through four months of anxious waiting and the patient were rewarded with an incredible performance in the end.