Daughter’s début album If You Leave was one of my favourite of the first half of 2013, so when I discovered this London band was
supporting Sigur Ros at the third largest radio telescope in the world, I was delighted. However, little
prepared me for how moving the experience would be. Lead singer Elena Torna stands shyly in front of her microphone, seemingly in a private world, with little
overt interaction with the audience. In fact, much of the set was spent with
her eyes gazing downwards, and when she did talk she explained they are rather awkward
on stage. Elena also apologised profusely for mistakes in her technique, saying
that she had ‘got out of control’.
This lack of control was not evident in an almost perfect performance,
but in the emotional depth: I suspect like me, Elena was fighting back tears. There’s
a poignant vulnerability about her heartfelt lyrics and vocal style. Diffident
stagecraft only added to this sense of fragility, and I was utterly mesmerised,
hanging off every phrase. The music blends folk with an ambitious, experimental
use of thundering bass electronics, subtle drumming, and even Jonsi-like bowed
electric guitar. There’s a dark sparseness here, as Elena explores unrequited
love and damaging relationship experiences alongside her French partner Igor
Haefeli on stage. Despite the pervasive darkness, Elena's shyness is endearing,
and I related closely to her sensitivity. That patches of blue sky were
overwhelmed by cloud during the set added to the drama. Daughter have an exquisite feel for atmospheric detail, yet there's nothing contrived here; it comes from the heart.
After this, Polica’s extroversion felt incongruous, although
their performance was lively and engaging. Minneapolis’ Channy Leaneagh was all
that Elena Torna was not, dancing energetically, and expressive in her facial expressions. Their comparatively extrovert synth pop, with R&B influences, was a less moving musically than Daughter’s
synthesis, but was a welcome chance to recover emotionally before the main
act. Whilst the stage was being set for the headlining act, we were treated to an
astrophysics lecture from Professor Tim O’Brien of Manchester University,
complete with a live video link to South Africa. This was apt: musical and
mathematical talent are often closely aligned.
Sigur Ros’ set opened literally with sounds from space
collected by Jodrell Bank and arranged by the band for the occasion. We heard
radio echoes from meteors, signals from spacecraft, and the rhythm of pulsars as
the enormous Lovell Telescope slowly
rotated 180 degrees to face the audience. What the venue had evidently saved on parking, toilet and food facilities had been
spent instead on the PA, video screen and lighting. Lasers
were deployed skilfully, the visuals synchronous iwith the music's atmosphere. The green lighting during Brennistein was perhaps intended to resemble Iceland's Northern Lights. Projections onto the telescope's dish mimicked the moon, and the planet Jupiter.
This is the third time I’ve seen Sigur Ros this year: previously in
March at an amazing indoor concert and in April at Coachella. Since then, Kveikur has
been released, so I was expecting this more aggressive album to have a greater
influence on the set list. As it was, Hoppipolla from 2005’s Takk seemed to be the
audience’s highlight, and much of the material was well established. This was
certainly the most visually striking of the three shows, but didn’t move me
quite as much as the indoor one, where concentration was easier. I was also emotionally
wrung out from the Daughter set, but that’s not to say that the ethereal singing
of Jonsi Birgisson wasn't hauntingly beautiful.
As ever, Jonsi said almost nothing between songs: to do so would have shattered the hushed mood. Those around me near the stage seemed totally absorbed; there was little conventional audience interaction, as if this is music to appreciate in a private inner world. There were also echoes of the classical world in the acoustic instrumentation, notably brass and strings, giving a lush backdrop to Jonsi's charismatic falsetto. Afterwards, I felt that the set had been short, yet actually it lasted for close on two hours, testament to the immersive nature of the experience. This occasion was a one off, where a spark of creativity in an individual's mind was realised as vivid memories for several thousand people. The concert was indeed, as it had been billed, a 'Transmission', one deep into the soul.
