I love a wide variety of music, from opera to industrial rock, yet it seems recently that I've been most lucky with and touched by roots and folk traditions. The elusive live magic, I'd been craving finally returned tonight in an almost spiritual manner. There were no gimmicks, and most of the instrumentation was acoustic, just the experience of exceptional musicianship. I hadn't been to this venue since attending classical concerts in my teenage years, and now it's had a nine million pound refurbishment. In contrast to Manchester's Apollo, where Laura Marling played on Friday, the staff couldn't have been friendlier, and the facilities were superb. This tour has a remarkable 40 dates, and so for once I was able to exercise consumer choice, and see an artist I love in a convivial setting. The reward for queuing in the cool British air was a prime position, just a few feet away from the source of the magic; live music at its best.
Pete Roe opened: he's a long standing member of Laura Marling's band and was inspired to pursue music after watching the documenting 'The Last Waltz' at the age of 13. This Bristol native delivered a stripped down folk set, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar; beautifully executed and setting the atmosphere for the evening. After that came a shift of place, from England to Ontario, Canada, and atmosphere, from the warm and cosy to the chilling. That's not to say that Timber Timbre, playing a solo set, wasn't compelling to listen to. His folk music takes inspiration from seances, witchcraft, horror movies and murder, and the spooky vibe is heightened by Taylor Kirk's rich, deep and distinctive voice. His fourth album Creep on Creepin' On was shortlisted for last year's Polaris Prize, and I'd like to hear a full band live performance with strings and the brilliant Colin Stetson on saxophone.
Laura Marling's musicianship is at odds with her understated presence on stage, which goes beyond British reserve towards shyness. She spoke so quietly I could barely make out her words, and she asked her backing group to each speak towards the end of the set, as if having to avoid talking herself. This very un-Adele like demeanour was most charming. I was grateful that the audience listened to this gentle acoustic music with reverence, and it was almost miraculous that this self-effacing 22 year old kept a few thousand people spellbound. Her band, included double bass, cello, banjo, flute, drums and piano from Pete Roe. They accompanied sensitively, filling out the textures, but never seizing the limelight.When she played, any nervousness disappeared, and she in fact looked remarkably relaxed, regularly getting lost in the music.
It was the hushed middle part of the set, when the backing musicians went off stage, which was most spiritual. Marling's voice is beautifully delicate and flexible, and a richness in the lower registers has developed as her style has evolved. She performed an untitled new song solo, as well as the bonus track Flicker and Flail from her most recent album A Creature I Don't Know, and a Ryan Adams cover. The early material such as Ghosts, written when she was 17 was delivered in just as delicate folk style as when it was recorded. I've always loved the folk melodies embodied in English classical music such as Vaughan Williams, and Marling has been touched by the same deeply rooted tradition. It's fascinating though to see the pace of development in style towards jazz and folk rock in her recent material, which suggests exciting possibilities for a career that seems likely to be long and illustrious.
Laura Marling is already part of the British musical establishment, her first two albums both having being nominated for the Mercury Prize, and winning best female artist in last year's Brit Awards. Her background is privileged: she attended a private Quaker School in Reading, her mother was a musical teacher, and her father, who gave her a love of folk, ran a recording studio. Yet, like Adele, she's far from a manufactured star: she's gained such a following because she's a natural musician, effortless note perfect throughout, her small inflections and subtleties transforming the merely sweat to the transcendent. She ended with a glorious trio of songs: Sophia, Rambling Man and I Speak because I Can. She'd already explained that she doesn't do encores: that would be too brash and un-English for such a modest (yet brilliant) human being.
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