For the consummate gig-goer, there’s nothing as satisfying as going to a show you’ve been ambivalent about and being completely blown away. Some of the best shows I’ve ever been to have come entirely out of the blue - Feist, Martha Wainwright, Battles, Built To Spill - but Friday night’s performance by oddball harpist extraordinaire Joanna Newsom has to rank as the most delightful surprise of them all. Indeed, if it hadn’t been for the slightly underwhelming encore, it might very well have been my show of the year.
There are a couple of reasons I’d had doubts about the gig. Firstly was the venue. As venerable and impressive as the Royal Albert Hall undoubtedly is, Modest Mouse’s performance there was wrecked by muffled, atrociously mixed sound and I was concerned, given that this was a seated show, that the same issues would once again conspire to ruin my enjoyment. Secondly, was the curious Miss Newsom herself. Although evidently talented, eccentric and more than a little bit attractive, I tended to feel that I liked her more in theory than in practice. The obvious sticking point is that unique voice of hers, which, depending on your point of view is either delightfully idiosyncratic, or a unpalatably screechy abomination. I generally find that she tends to veer between the two; sometimes enchanting, sometimes unlistenable. And thirdly was the fact I hadn’t listened to the most recent album Ys very much, even though I knew it’d form the majority of the set.
Thankfully, my worries proved to be unfounded. The sound, even from my distant vantage point, was flawless. Her voice, shorn of its characteristic shrillness, filled the rafters with an almost otherworldly air. And the music proved to be so enrapturing that even without knowing the songs I found myself falling head-over-heels in love. Although the lush orchestrated arrangements of Ys (courtesy of Brian Wilson collaborator Van Dyke Parks) are replaced with a violin, mandolin and drums, this simpler approach is a masterstroke, enhancing but never overwhelming the centerpiece harp. It also gives the music a greater sense of honesty and subtlety, which only accentuates the beauty of the compositions; indeed, Emily and Bridges & Balloons moved me to the point of tears. And Joanna herself wasn’t the gratingly kooky hippie I imagined her to be; to the contrary, she’s down-to-earth, charming and effortlessly engaging (not to mention insanely cute), at one part asking her support band to grab her mobile phone from backstage so she could take some snaps of the audience. It’s incredibly rare that all the elements of a show fit together with such perfection, but it’s hard to deny this deny this was one of those nights.
But as is the unfortunate tendency of all the best gigs, the encore didn’t live up to the rest of the show. Her new song was lovely, but Only Skin struck me as overlong and too avant-garde to be a satisfying closer; This Side of The Blue would have grabbed the audience far more effectively. That said, it didn’t stop her getting the full-scale standing ovation she so richly deserved, nor did it do anything to dissuade me that Joanna Newsom is one of the most original and astonishing talents alive today. A five star show if there ever was one.
(Photos courtesy of Robocod and Schrollum, Flickr. Nice work!)
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