SHIRLEY COLLINS
Brighton Dome, Sun 14th May
I was there to see Shirley Collins'
unannounced comeback gig three year ago, supporting Current 93 at the Union Chapel. Which, despite lasting
precisely two songs, was considered significant enough an event to get it’s own Guardian write-up.
And at the time I confess to having
felt like I was watching a different set to everybody else. To the
point of wondering whether they were so furiously applauding a
reputation rather than a performance.
Then 'Lodestar' came
out to what a reliable source of gossip described as “widespread acclaim”, and I figured to give this gig a whirl.
Instead of a single support act, a
succession of musicians did a couple of numbers each. Some of whom
came back with the main ensemble. All of whom seemed to know Collins
in some capacity. Though finding someone from the folk scene
unconnected to her would seem the harder task. She's something of a
lodestar, it seems.
And, as you might expect from that
description, the results were something of a mixed bag. And yet when
Collins and her retinue came on for the main set, the bag seemed to
stay just as mixed.
Collins looks more like your Gran than
your Gran does, and sounds similar. Which is probably a good sign.
Folk singers need an ordinariness, an anti-flamboyance to them. Vocal
theatrics are unwelcome in any music genre, but with folk music
they're an absolute anathema. But they also need an underlying sense
of strength to them. Think, for example, of June Tabor. While with Collins' voice I hear pretty much
just the ordinariness. Collins the person seems
quite a character. Her voice less so.
At one point, she tells an anecdote
about visiting a lady in Arkansas to collect folk songs. (While
accompanying Alan Lomax. Told you she knew everyone.) At one point
nature called and they jointly visited the euphemistic 'outhouse'. At
which point she became treated to the lady's “ugly” repertoire,
unsuited to the house proper.
And it tends to be the outhouse songs
which are more memorable here. The murder ballads and tales of women
who run away to sea only to drown in it, all sung in Collins'
straight-up, home-cooking tones. There are admittedly a fair few of
these. In fact the Guardian review of the album commented the “songs’ body
count would startle a Norwegian death metal band.”
Plus, strange as it is to say about a
classic singer, I often took to the instrumental passages. (In
opposition to most folk gigs, where I just try to sit through the
finger-picking without fidgeting.) Which did feature Ossian Brown, in
his time of both Current 93 and Coil, turning the lever on the hurdy
gurdy. An instrument which is almost a microcosm of the gulf between
the way people picture folk, and what it really is. The name couldn't
be any more pewter tankard if it was called the Hey Nonny No. But the
sound it emits is eerily unearthly. It was probably invented by some
ancestor of Chris Carter.
Ultimately I guess I feel folk is great
and possibly even vital, but that's no reason to get all traditional
about the stuff. I'm less interested in music which reprises the past
than music which questions the certainties of our connection to that
past. And so I preferred the Flit gig to this.
DAMO SUZUKI'S NETWORK
West Hill Hall, Brighton, Sat
13th May
I have now officially lost count of the
amount of times I have seen Damo Suzuki live. Perhaps the remarkable thing is
that, with each gig being entirely improvised and with a new set of
'sound carriers' (as he terms them), they've been so consistent.
This time he's playing with Zoff (who
I'm afraid to admit I don't know at all, despite being a local band),
plus E-da (from the previous gig) on extra drums and percussion. One member
seemed to have a veritable mad scientist's lab on stage, complete
with green oscilloscope screen, which he'd crouch over and adjust
while somehow avoiding crying out “it lives, it lives!”
One review I found described the set as passing “through
sonic troughs and peaks”, and indeed it was like watching waves
rolling and crashing against the shore. At points the two drummers
would lock in together, rising to the fore to hammer away in fearless
union, with even Suzuki going uncharacteristically quiet. It would
then swell over into something more hauntingly ambient, before
starting to stir again.
What might sound schematic on paper
becomes mesmerising to experience. It's like when you watch the
actual waves crash against the actual shore. Even if parameters
exist, within them what's happening is constantly changing and at any
one moment unique, and the more you watch the more mesmerising it
becomes. Damo did it again.
THE PHYSICS HOUSE BAND
The Haunt, Brighton, Thurs
11th May
The Physics House Band stop off in
their home town mid European tour. (It must feel odd to be half-way
through such a venture yet sleeping in your own bed.)
The first time I saw this trio I thought of them as musically
on the cusp of the Seventies, the point spacey psychedelia grew
noodly appendages and evolved into prog. (Partly this came through
seeing them a few days apart from heavy riffers Mainliner.) (The second time they reminded me of a car from 'Wacky Races'. Let's not get into that again or it'll confuse things.) This time
they seemed more of a cross between proggy fusion and the frenetic
eclecticism of post-dance music, even if electric guitars are their
primary weapon.
Truth to tell, there are points when
their science class name becomes too telling and they become too
muso-ish for me. (And we don't want too much music
in our music. That just gets away from the point of the thing.) But
at other times their porridge is just right. Through all the
multi-note pile-ups these techy kids have the ability to lay down a
killer tune. A tune often carried by the bass, for the drums main
role seems to be to continually set off firecrackers under the set,
lest things start slipping. Sometimes they'll bounce back and forth
between straight riff and proggy polysllabery like a circus tumbler
flipping forwards. They also give some tracks appealingly atmospheric
ambient intros.
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