EMA, Zola Jesus Manchester Academy 3, 24th November 2011 9.5/10

I'm writing this the morning after a mesmerising show, emotionally exhausted from an intense, psychological experience. Even if you don't read any further, do consider going to a Zola Jesus gig: I hope that like me, you will be captivated. Her fan base is still relatively small, at least in the UK, but intensely loyal. An informative Wikipedia article describes her music as synthpop, gothic rock, electronic and experimental rock, but in order to understand her appeal you need to look more widely at her persona and performance art.

For once, the support act was well judged: in fact despite not having heard of EMA previously, I now hope to go to one of her headline shows.  Erika M Anderson, from South Dakota, has a striking appearance and is an accomplished user of blogs to engage with her fans. EMA blends musical styles: often even within a song there are grunge, goth, and country genres. She's immensely energetic and committed, and deafening noise and whole body vibrating bass combine to create an almost overwhelming experience. As with Zola Jesus, you won't be checking Twitter or thinking about work during her performance: this is all-consuming. Leif Shakelford is a virtuoso electric guitar player and keyboardist, whilst a second guitarist and drummer added to the shattering mix. What I love about this performer is the sense of liberation: she holds nothing back, and despite the dark nature of much of her music, is evidently having fun.

Zola Jesus is sometimes bracketed with Lykke Li (I enjoyed the Scandinavians recent performance in the same venue too), and whilst there are some stylistic similarities, her sound is unique. Nika Roza Danilova chose her provocative stage name to show the futility of religion, and yet she didn't pursue an operatic career owing to battles with stage fright. Her new persona is deeply conceptualised: she's studied philosophy and is an exponent of situtationism where art is represented through one's life and music. Some might say that this elaborate construction serves as protection for her nerves, but happily it has remarkable effects on her performance.

More than anyone else I've seen, Zola Jesus understands engagement with the audience, not by superficially chatting with them (all she said was 'thank-you Manchester') but on a deeper psychological level. By the end of the hour long set I was almost in a trance, absorbed by the almost primeval atmosphere. She achieves this engagement in part by her stagecraft, including amazing use of arm gestures and dancing. She also approaches the very edge of the stage, touches the hands of audience members, and enters the crowd to dance and sing amongst them. Her expression was captivating, and in this small venue, stood right at the front of the stage it was an all-enveloping experience.

The backing band remains anonymous, clad in black and dimly lit. They consist of a drummer and three keyboard players, equipped with Macbooks: this an electronic sound devoid of guitars but no lack of bass. Zola Jesus' voice adds soul and manages to combine power, belying her diminutive stature, with purity and a sense of vulnerability. As you'd expect given her classical training, she is pitch perfect and technically an amazingly consistent vocalist. You could accuse her music of lacking variety: the mood between songs (and between her albums) is similar, yet I feel this is part of her plan. I wished the gig could have continued all night, as I'd almost been hypnotised, and the spell would have been shattered by a mellow acoustic number.

I have go back to the experience I had with Warpaint at The Reading Festival this summer for another performance which was so emotionally powerful, capturing my attention to the total exclusion of all else. The atmosphere was similarly mystical, connecting with the soul at a deep level. I've admired Zola Jesus' recent album Conatus, but it didn't prepare me for the intensity of her live performance: like Portugal. The Man, she's a performer whose recorded work can't really do justice to their talent. It seems appropriate that on Thanksgiving Day, two American performers only added to my gratitude for the exceptional power of music.

Fanfarlo, Manchester Deaf Institute 24th November 2011 6.5/10

How do you approach new music? I dedicate time to listen to a new album sequentially in its entirety without distractions on my hi-fi. Later, if initial impressions are positive, it will find its way onto my iPod and become part of my fabric of my life. It can take many listens, in different circumstances and moods before I can come to a conclusion about whether I like it. Often music which initially impresses wears badly (whilst Nine Inch Nails proves the opposite can apply). Tonight though, my introduction to Fanfarlo's new album took place live, in a packed Deaf Institute, rather like my very first rock concert when I heard Alex Ebert's Alexander for the first time.

Previously whilst I'd enjoyed Fanfarlo, I felt that Reservoir was a little derivative, and it proved to be one of those albums which dazzled on first listen, but I now return to only occasionally. The word twee certainly won't be associated with their second album, Rooms Filled With Light, to be released at the end of February 2012. Even their old songs sounded unfamiliar tonight, and have been reinterpreted as the group re-invents itself. First though there was the shock of Fanfarlo's chosen support act, the electronic artist Christos Fanaras. The audience completely failed to comprehend his act, being unsettled throughout, which meant circumstances mitigated against connecting with it. This is difficult music, akin to avant garde contemporary classical, yet eventually I was won over by its hypnotic effects, even if this solo electronic performer was reliant on a light show for visual interest.

Fanfarlo justify Fanaras' inclusion as he's one of their recent influences, but it was bold to use the support act to introduce the audience to a whole new genre. Radiohead could pull this off, but Fanfarlo are not established enough to take their fans so far out of their comfort zone. There is logic though: Fanfarlo mentioned Steve Reich as an influence in a BBC Radio interview broadcast just prior to this concert, along with late 1970's artists such as Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, Talking Heads and Kraftwerk. Neither Noah and the Whale or any other New Folk artists were mentioned, and yet it's inevitable comparisons will be made with their more celebrated fellow Brits.

Last Night on Earth, which I've also seen live, takes Noah and the Whale in a more upbeat direction, whereas Rooms Filled With Light has echoes of more arty New Wave and is more complex to assimilate. They have traded their folksier elements for a moodier, more electronic sound, with a darker feel. This can work stunningly well, for example in the intricate rhythms and counterpoint of Replicate, which opened the gig and can be downloaded for free from the artist's website. Almost inevitably though, it was the older material which got the audience most engaged, and my highlight was the encore The Walls are Coming Down. I admire their new found experimentalism, and they are skilled and engaging live performers, but an  energy was missing; perhaps a spiritual sense. Their name comes from the 19th Century French critic Charles de Baudelaire's novella, and was chosen to convey a sense of romanticism. I commend this intellectualism, but there's a hint of British restraint in their performance; perhaps a greater freedom will come as they continue to develop musically.

The jury is still out on Fanfarlo's reinvention for me. I need to listen to the album at my leisure, and perhaps hear it live again when their performances have been honed with the experience of audiences. What isn't in doubt is that the band comprises five accomplished musicians, multi instrumentalists such as Cathy Lucas (violin, keyboards, vocals, but sadly no longer mandolin); Simon Bathazar (who has traded his clarinet for a saxophone); and Leon Beckenman (whose trumpet playing makes me wish Fanfarlo would further embrace jazz influences). However, the excitement of listening to new music for the first time wasn't quite fulfilled. I attribute this partially to the memory of Portugal. The Man's remarkable performance one week earlier in the same venue being so fresh in my mind. You should certainly make the effort to see Fanfarlo, and buy their new album when it's released, but it won't change your life.

Set List

Replicate
Tightrope
Pilots
Digdog
Lenslifes
Comments
Deconstructown
Finish Line
At last
Flood
Lunadogs
Feather dusters
Shiny tintings
Wee willy Wilkins

Portugal. The Man Manchester Deaf Institute November 16th 2011 10/10

There was never any question whether I'd attend this gig, despite the fact I'd been travelling back from the Arctic for the previous 3 days, and managed only 2 hours sleep on a plane the previous night. I reviewed my first Portugal. The Man concert here, and several months later I often recall that joy. Despite the fact that I've now seen numerous other amazing acts, and attended several festivals, my original judgement stands: this is one of the very finest live experiences.

John Gourley acknowledges in this recent interview that Portugal. The Man has yet to receive widespread recognition in the UK, despite signing to a major label. The happy consequence of others' ignorance was being able to see them in an intimate venue, stood an arm's length from the stage. I've heard rave reports of their new light show in American shows, but here only the Deaf Institute's in house rig was used. Gourley said no more than 'thank-you' and 'we're Portugal. The Man from Alaska and Portland'. No jokes, no gimmicks, no encore; just the band and its fans united by a love of music.

The commitment of all five musicians is remarkable: they gave their absolute all, and it's hard to imagine how they could have physically sustained it for longer than this 65 minute set. Some acts (for example, Bon Iver) add little to their already great albums, but you really have to experience Portugal. The Man live to be hit with an irrepressible force of energy. This manifests itself in both in the instrumentals (tight, drumming, for example, hard hitting guitars), and in the on stage persona of Gourley and his colleagues. Whilst they certainly rock, I found the lyrical moments, such as in 1989 from Censored Colors to be the most moving: I love their vocal harmonising, electric fuzz and irresistibly catchy melodies.

 I love the recent album In the Mountain, In The Cloud, but live they have a freer, more improvisatory quality: they have yet to make a recording which fully captures this risk taking. They opened with the incredibly upbeat So American, but the set was also generous in its selections of material from Satanic Satanist, Portugal. The Man's masterpiece. The euphoria peaked with Guns and Dogs and the closing People Say. I was completely sober (having just driven 200 miles) yet by the end of the set, I experienced an amazing high. Everything else was irrelevant: I was living in an idealised version of the present, and was so emotionally engaged that it would've been impossible for any extraneous thoughts to creep into my mind.

The rest of the audience were similarly engaged, but although there was dancing, they didn't go wild as at Cut Copy recently; perhaps mindful of this, John Gourley Tweeted, asking for the crowd at his London gig tonight to be rowdy. Still, it was the first anniversary of the explosion in my musical horizons (a momentous event in my life which occurred due to the generosity of a dear friend), and there couldn't have been a more apt way to mark it than this sublime experience. Like travel, live music allows you to see everyday life from a different perspective: priorities are put into perspective, and it has the power to make those who submit to its emotions more open, tolerant individuals.

Sorry, no video, and it was very low light for available light photography, but I will never use flash at gigs.

Oh My Darling, West End Arts Centre, Winnipeg, 5th November 2011 8/10

There’s a danger of becoming comfortable with your local music scene: you get to know the venues, places to eat nearby, and which rules can be broken. I’d urge you to take some risks: explore an unfamiliar music scene, go to see a band whose music you haven’t heard before, and try a different genre. Taking my own advice, I found myself making last minute plans to see a roots bluegrass group in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and having far, far more fun than I expected. Indeed for sheer pleasure this exceeded far more illustrious bands I’ve heard in Manchester.

I’m lucky to live within reach of the UK’s second city for live music, after London, and in my arrogance hadn’t imagined somewhere as far flung as Winnipeg could have such a vibrant musical scene. On this Saturday evening, there was a choice of five gigs listed on Songkick, but even though I hadn’t heard them, a Google search showed that Oh My Darling were huge locally (and have just returned from a 60 concert European tour).  I took a chance buying a ticket despite not having heard a note of this group.

This was a real event: it seems most of the town, from all age groups, had sold out the West End Arts Centre and much to the excitement of the audience the four piece were joined by a drummer and extra guitarist for this special release show for their second album. A special beer had been brewed for the occasion, and I the sense of anticipation reminded me of waiting to see Adele (whom remarkably the music enthusiast sat next to me on the front row hadn’t heard of, despite attending six shows a week in Winnipeg).

It’s fascinating to compare live music scenes: the atmosphere here was staggeringly relaxed and friendly, with no security guards, and little risk of trouble given that everyone there seems to have known each other for years. Unusually, there was no support act, but two sets by Oh My Darling, separated by an interval. A local musical figure provided an introduction, and the band themselves chattered to the audience between each song. One of the more moving moments was when the lead singer explained that a song they were about to play had come into her head the day after her grandmother passed away, and she regarded it as a gift from her.

Oh My Darling’s sets consisted largely of original songs, written in an old time style: their latest album is titled ‘Sweet Nostalgia’, and they play tribute to past North American music, whilst making it their own. They all sung (very beautifully and characterfully), and played electric bass, fiddle, acoustic guitar and banjo skillfully.  They are true musicians, not manufactured celebrities, and utterly inside their folk style, steeped in it to the very core of their existence. All four were beaming with joy throughout the performance, danced, clapped, and go the audience moving. A special mention has to go to the lead vocalist Venessa Kuzina for her voice, charisma and enthusiasm. I went away with a deep sense of satisfaction and joy.

I’ve written before about my belief of music’s deep relationship to place, and Oh My Darling exemplify this. I’ve also written about love of Canada music, and my connection with it. As I travel on a train through the Wilderness of Manitoba I’ve been listening to the eponymous band, and the wide open spaces, hour after hour, relate closely to the relaxation and expansiveness in the music. The magic of this gig lay in the musicianship of the four young ladies, the sense of both continuity and reinvention in the music, and above all the intense pleasure and fun all those present experienced.  Oh My Darling is touring Europe in 2012, and I will be seeking them out again. 

Lykke Li, Manchester Academy, 31st October 2011 8.5/10

If this was a formal review site, rather than a personal blog, I'd analyse Lykke Li objectively and state that she puts on an accomplished show, but ultimately is a little limited in her musical range, with an accomplished voice rather than an amazing one like Adele's. However here, I assess live music by whether I wake up the morning after still buzzing with excitement, and whether that elusive, transformational 'magic' was achieved: this show easily passed these subjective criteria.

The evening started beautifully with a support band that I'd eagerly see as head liners: the folk duo First Aid Kit; youthful Swedish sisters. I was struck by the magnetic smile on their faces as they made joyful music, with Fleet Foxes' harmonies and enchanting songs. Their 45 minute set varied between foot tapping folk numbers when they were joined by a drummer, and sweet lullabies accompanied by auto harp. They sung in English, and their sound contained elements of American roots, as well as pop: they really were spell binding.

Reviews of the 2011 album Wounded Rhymes (produced by Bjorn Yttling of Peter, Bjorn and John) have emphasised the stark contrasts between the powerful and vulnerable as she switches between aggressor and victim roles. Instead, I was struck by the unity and coherence of her vision: numbers from the 2008 Youth Novels are more upbeat, but the entire set had a cool, mysterious aura. The sheer intensity and dark mood reminded me of the remarkable PJ Harvey set in Manchester a few weeks ago. Lykke Li also benefited from extensive and imaginative backing: the 5 musicians included drummer, keyboard player, guitarist, backing vocalist, but most strikingly an additional percussionist. Surprisingly, rhythm even more than melody made the greatest musical contribution to the atmosphere.

Almost more important, though, were the visuals: Lykke Li was dressed in black, whilst lighting (and use of darkness) increased the theatricality. Whilst I've gone to the ballet in my past lives for the music alone, in this show, the dancing really did capture my attention. Lykke Li's energy and commitment added to my total absorption in the experience, from a centre front row vantage point. The lead singer of an up and coming Manchester band who was present Tweeted that the music was amazing, but the audience were lethargic. There was some singing along, but the crowd was not whipped up into the frenzy of Cut Copy last week. This is missing the point though: it was a more spiritual experience.

Lykke Li spent time in the Southern California desert, writing songs for Wounded Rhymes, and in this revealing interview wrote about the spirituality of music:
'It's about going inside yourself and then bringing out something. It's such a spiritual thing for me. And very deep. I don't know if you meditate, but if you hit that, kind of unified feel, I feel like that's the same thing when you sing. It's something greater than you. You can take all your longings and go somewhere with it.'
To me, music, and wilderness are the two experiences which help me to make a connection with the world beyond that explained by science. I was reminded of the comments by my friend and musical expert Colette, in her review of a Fiona Apple gig this week, which echo my feelings about great music:
'Not only is her voice impeccable, her presence engaging, and her performance magnificent, she also seems to have a visible, direct connection to. . .  if you don’t believe in God, you will.'
Some may have misguidedly found Lykke Li cold last night: she made little attempt to talk to the audience, didn't introduce any of her songs, and  her expression was distant. This was more than just professional focus: instead, I really believe that she was in another realm, contemplating the meaning of life.

The evening ended with just one encore, but it was the highlight of the set: Unrequited Love. Wounded Rhymes was written after a relationship breakup, and this was a night of much soul wrenching and great intensity. It's fascinating to speculate where Lykke Li will take her numerous new found fans next: after playing 60 gigs since spring, she's earned some more time in the desert to re-fuel that creativity and continue her deep thoughts. So have I; I'll be taking a short break from live music to spend some time in The Arctic amongst nature, and Lykke Li's albums will be part of my soundtrack to that barren landscape.

The singer herself appealed to the audience near the start to refrain from videoing the gig, but I'm sharing my still photographs.