Anna Calvi

Brudenell Social Club, Leeds, 4th February 2014

 

 

The Brudenell is a pretty small venue. I'd been there before, but never to see such a well known act and so wasn't really prepared for how small the room can feel when it's packed. It also has a really low ceiling. Maybe that had something to do with the claustrophobic feel. But it is in Hyde Park, which couldn't be more convenient for me and, it being a social club, drinks are pretty darn cheap.

 

But, to be honest, I wouldn't really have cared where we were. We could have been in the Leeds Met student's union (where the gig was originally intended to be), Wembley Arena or the Snooty Fox in Wakefield (Skankiest. Pub. Ever). I was getting to see an artist whose music I have adored for the last three years. When I went to loads of gigs (oh, how I miss those days...) I saw many acts I thought were alright but wouldn't have been disappointed if tickets had sold out before I got there. Now I hardly ever go to gigs so when I do it's for someone I really admire. And consequently get quite giddy about.

 

Anna Calvi was supported by Anna Meredith, taking the An(n)a count in that room to at least three (alternative spellings accepted). Me and t'other half had already taken our places feet from the stage so we had a good view of Ms Meredith, her cello player and her guitarist. With all the respect given to someone who is prepared to stand up and play to a crowd who are not there to see them, I wasn't really into it. They didn't seem that well prepared or put together, and most of the songs were instrumental. I think it really takes something extra to lure a crowd in when there's no words to hook your emotions onto and they didn't have it. There was also more than a bit of a whiff, with cameo roles by toy dragons, that they were trying too hard to be quirky. Although not strictly their fault, and Ms Meredith herself did spend a lot of time trying to correct it with the PA guy at the back, the sound was all over the place. But hey, my partner thought they were alright so feel free to put this down to me being over-critical.

 

After a short intercession and probably unhealthy quantities of San Pellegrino lemonade Anna Calvi and her band took to the stage. In something of a cliché I was taken aback at how small she was. I had always assumed from her photos and videos (not to mention the awesome power of her voice on record) that she would be a towering Amazonian. But no. In the flesh she appears delicate, almost doll like, in her classy vintage outfits and flawless make-up.

 

Then she started to play. I have never seen anyone play guitar like she does. All at once she was transformed into something raw and powerful. The sheer skill involved in the way she plays is astounding, but the passion is something else. That guitar was like a wild animal and she was the only one who could tame it.

 

Her voice live is almost indistinguishable to how it is on CD. No mean feat when considering how strong that voice sounds. She moved seamlessly between her intimate whispers and grand operatic choruses, her mouth snarling and her eyes closed, smearing red lipstick on the microphone. Charismatic doesn't even come close.

 

And then, because this write up wasn't already toe curlingly fangirl enough, there was the moment when she paused for breath and her blue eyes scanned the crowd to lock with mine. I know you can see almost nothing of a crowd when you're on stage and it was unlikely to be anything more than a favourable angle of her head, but that was a moment I'm unlikely to forgot. Interestingly enough I'm not the only person who felt like she'd held their gaze for a few seconds last night. Seems like that's another talent she's got down.

 

When she first came out there she almost had a sense of nervousness, as if she wasn't quite sure what we were all doing looking at her. The nerves seemed to evaporate once she got down to the serious business of playing incredible songs, but there wasn't much banter with the audience and when she did speak I was again taken aback by the small, quiet speaking voice (it was Skin from Skunk Anansie all over again). She did, however, seem to get more comfortable as the performance went on and by the time she left the stage there was a genuine smile there. I think we convinced her Leeds loves her.

 

She played all the songs I really wanted her to, Desire, Blackout, Suzanne and I, Eliza, Bleed Into Me and (the two I prayed she would) I'll Be Your Man and Love Won't Be Leaving. The live band were tight and professional and, despite having to downsize the stage, they gave it everything they had and put in a terrific performance. I also think there is something about a smaller, more out of the way, more intimate venue that lends itself to Calvi's songs. Alongside the big vocal choruses and intricate instrumental arrangements there is something sinewy and sensual about her music. She could whisper it in your ear and that was the atmosphere of the gig last night. She seduced Leeds effortlessly and this will be a very long standing love affair.

 

One Breath Album Review

 

 

 

I got the new album for Christmas, despite it coming out in October because, quite frankly, I have been the skintest I have ever been this Autumn and Winter. I was going to review it as I slowly worked through my Christmas haul (three more albums to go guys. Don't pretend like you can't wait) but then t'other half informed me that we would be going to see her live and I decided to hold of putting my thoughts down in binary until I could combine them into one Calvi-loving mega-post.

 

The result is that this isn't the thoughts of a first listen. I've probably heard the album thirty times by now. When I first listened to it all the way though my first reaction was I didn't like it as much as 2010's self-titled debut. The reason for this, having now given it some thought, is that it's a much more varied album. Many of the songs (Suddenly, Eliza, Tristan) are very similar to those on the first album, but she's also tried to branch out more. The more experimental tracks range from having sweeping string interludes to the almost punky sounding Love of My Life. It's altogether a more risky, eclectic album.

 

That's not to say she's altered her signature vocal style of intricate, skilful guitar playing. It's a clear progression that didn't take the easy route of re-creating the first record. But what I love about Calvi is still very much intact. The quietly desperate songs of love and despair and the layered, atmospheric mood she creates, seemingly effortlessly haven't gone anywhere.  

 

How do I feel about it now? I still think I love the debut more, but One Breath is a wonderful, challenging listen that I doubt will be taken off top rotation any time soon.       

UPDATE:

My gorgeous partner, Taint, is a fantastic amateur photographer and her special skill seems to be getting brilliant shots at gigs. Here are a few of the ones she took on Tuesday night.

 

 

 

 

 

 Multi-talented multi-instrumentalist Mally Harpaz rocking out on a squeeze box.

 

More shots of Anna.

 

 

 

A bit grainy but very atmospheric;

And finally a shot of Anna with an 'orange peel' cymbal (probably not the technical term);

 

The Bridge II

Normally, when reviewing TV series, it is customary to give your opinion after the first episode and so possible encourage others to watch the rest. I wasn't able to do that with The Bridge because time just got away from me and suddenly it was the middle of the week and a Saturday night crime drama seemed somewhat passe. But it was just so good I couldn't not write about it. Also, in this age of iPlayer, streaming and DVD series binges it's not as if it has gone forever.

So, my advice to you is GO AND WATCH THE BRIDGE II RIGHT NOW!!! Beg, borrow and steal just please see it. Also please ignore that little voice that kicks in whenever someone recommends something too much (we all have them). This is seriously worth it.

Ahem. Anyway, The Bridge II. There is a Bridge I but I haven't seen it (although DVD will soon be rectifying that and I'll let you know what I think of it when it has). It's a Swedish/Danish crime drama focusing on crimes that affect both countries, particularly Copenhagen and Malmö which are the cities connected by a bridge across the sea. It begins with a boat crashing into the bridge almost at half way so police departments in both cities are required to investigate. 

That's how it starts, but The Bridge has the most complex plot I've come across in a long time. Throughout the ten episodes it goes through murder, family feuds, marital infidelity, eco-terrorism, biological warfare and EU climate policy to name just a few themes. It isn't lazy viewing. You have to be paying attention or you will just get lost. It being subtitled actually helped me in this respect as things tend to go in better if I've read them. There were also so many characters that kept popping up in different connections sometimes it was helpful to have my memory jogged by them basically wearing name tags. 

It didn't suffer from being 'too complicated' though. There were never moments of blind incomprehension resulting from the writers either getting too caught up in their own cleverness or details being forgotten/shoe horned it. It was all very considered and every little clue had it's place. It must have been an incredible feat to conceptualise, let alone write. 

The writing was magnificent as well. Every episode was pacey, the dialogue (even translated into another language and read rather than heard) was good and there were no weak or seemingly pointless storylines. 

The characterisation (you've probably guessed) also worked liked a dream. The personal lives of the two central detectives, Saga Noren (Sofia Helin) and Martin Rohde (Kim Bodnia), were explored well alongside the main plot but it never became a drama about two dysfunctional cops as often happens when detectives are given complicated personal lives. Another interesting dimension was Noren being high functioning autistic (a good overview of which is in this Telegraph article). Although never overshadowing the case it provided an interesting dynamic to a lot of the on screen relationships. I also thought it was shown in a very nuanced manner without turning Noren into a caricature or victim. 

I also loved the way it was shot. I've noticed with a lot of Swedish cinema how muted the colours are and how sparse the soundtrack is and I've often found it a welcome contrast to the loud and bright techniques used in British and American films. The Bridge is especially bleak with not one single scene being shot in sunshine. But I like it. It's kind to my eyes and adds a sense of coldness that works in a crime drama. That's not to say The Bridge is overly po-faced or serious. It raised a smile several times. Noren and Rohde have some brilliant conversations that lighten the mood when needed and help make it, despite the darkness and complexity, surprisingly easy and enjoyable to watch.

In short, despite it being only the beginning of February, I feel fairly confident saying this is probably the best crime drama of 2014. 

iPlayer  

Doctor Sleep by Stephen King

As I feel it’s only proper to be honest on this blog I will come clean before I get into the heart of this review. So here goes; I love Stephen King. I more than love him. He is, undeniably, one of only a handful of people I would describe as a 'hero'. He is my role model. He is someone, in short, I aspire to be like.

For my fifteenth birthday I was given a copy of Carrie. I read it cover to cover in about a day and must have read it twenty times since. The only two books that have ever scared me so much they invaded my dreams, It and The Shining, are by King. He’s created many characters I’ve had a genuine emotional connection to, from the powerful and doomed Carrie White to the desperate and damaged Louis Creed in Pet Sematary. I have more books by King than any other author (partly, I’ll admit, because the guy is so damned prolific) and I have re-read a higher proportion of his books than anyone else’s. Two of the ten books I would take to my desert island (unlikely I know…but just go with it) are by King.

There’s plenty of people who’ve written on King’s skill with words. The Guardian recently ran a series of reviews of Kings books in the order they were published and the literary techniques he uses are appraised much more eloquently there than I could manage. All I’ll say on the subject is at his best King’s writing approaches stream of consciousness. He writes like thoughts form and you’re pulled along with it, not just reading the story but living it. What makes him so terrifying is by the time the monsters have arrived he’s so deep in your head you accept it because it’s the only reality you have at that moment.

The thing that has always grabbed me in King’s writing is his characterisation. The people in his stories are a joy to read, even if they are utterly despicable human beings. They are layered and interesting and the baddies have pasts that have led them to this and the goodies have flaws that don’t make them completely sympathetic. The relationships ring true with their secrets and their compromises and the basic humanity of his creations means that you really care about the outcome. The skill I’ve always envied the most in King is his ability to imagine people and craft them so perfectly. It’s that, rather than his gift of creating fear, that’s broken my heart so many times.

That’s at his best. He’s not always at his best. It stands to reason that someone who’s published over fifty books will have some that are better than others. Some of his books I have finished and put to one side knowing I won’t pick up again. There was one, Cell, that I couldn’t finish because I just couldn’t engage with it. Still, percentages suggest that I’ll be more than likely to enjoy his stories so I’ll keep working through them as long as he keeps writing them.

Now I’ve had my moment I’ll get down to the reviewing. For the first time in I don’t know how long I bought some hardback books back in November. I don’t buy new hardbacks because they’re so expensive, and once you’ve got them you can’t port them around very easily to read while waiting for buses to show up and coffee to cool. But I thought I would buy Doctor Sleep, the sequel to The Shining, in hardback as a gesture of respect. And the cat’s eyes on the front cover are embossed turquoise and look fantastic.    

As mentioned above The Shining scared the bejesus out of me the first time I read it. I read it in December 2007 in the week I stayed in my halls of residence at uni after almost everyone else had left because I had managed to get myself a part time job and didn’t fancy the commute back from Bradford. There were maybe six of us left in a hall designed for a hundred and twenty. The days were short and, it being Manchester, the skies were constantly dark with rain or sleet or snow. It was freezing cold all week and eerily quiet. Some genuinely spooky stuff happened that week, but it was probably just the mood infecting us all. Either way I thought it would be a good idea to read The Shining under these conditions.

I had dreams featuring the ghosts from the Overlook Hotel. I once lay in my room really needing the loo but unable to go for hours after reading that bathroom scene. But I had to keep reading. I had to know the Torrance family, posted up into the Colorado mountains all alone, were going to be alright. And it was a good story, a damn good story brilliantly written and I couldn’t get enough of it. When I heard there was a sequel, about what happened to the Torrance’s little boy, Danny, when he grew up, I knew it was going to be a case of when rather than if I read it.

 

Whereas The Shining used Danny's psychic gifts as a catalyst for the ghosts in the hotel, Doctor Sleep is about a group of psychic vampires and their endless quest for children who ‘shine’ to sustain themselves. They set their sights on thirteen year old Abra Stone and it’s up to the little boy from the Overlook, now all grown up and an alcoholic like his Daddy, to protect her.

Grown up Danny Torrance (now going by the more mature sounding Dan) is brilliantly realised. He inherited his father’s drinking and temper but seems a stronger and worthier character than Jack Torrance. King certainly seems to like him better and I warmed to him almost immediately. The new shining child prodigy is as adorable and believable as Danny was in the original novel, although notably older and, consequently, has a bit more about her. For me it was these two characters that held the story together.

 

Is Doctor Sleep as good as The Shining? No is the simple answer. It’s not as long, it’s not as detailed and there’s very little of the patented King side lines into the characters. The result is that, after expecting to know every in and our of their psyche, they feel depressingly like characters in a book rather than real people. 

It's also not particularly scary or tense. The band of miscreants after Abra were a quite hit and miss. I liked that King put a new twist on vampires (which are getting a bit tired now, to be honest) by making them dependent on psychic energy and having them drive around America in RVs but ultimately they lacked depth. I can’t help but feeling twenty years ago King would have given each one a detailed back story and presented the reader with a complete history of this strange movement. Instead they seem oddly flat. Their leader, Rose, has the potential to be terrifying but you hardly get a glimpse of what’s going on under her infamous hat.

The writing still works though. Stylistically this couldn’t have been penned by anyone else. This book is incredibly easy to read and the confidence of the prose is probably what carries it through the plot’s thin patches.

I am glad I read it, and I’m glad Danny Torrance got his own story and Abra Stone was given to the world, but I wish it had just been a little bit better. I know I went into it with high hopes with it not just being from my favourite author but the sequel to one of my favourite books but I still can’t help feeling a little bit disappointed that it wasn’t incredible. Still, those cat’s eyes look great on my bookshelf.    

Honourable Mentions 2013

As well as artists I already had plunged head first into the murks of fandom for there were several albums last year that I didn’t stay up all night in queasy anticipation for but when I came across them definitely enriched my life. Some are artists I knew of before, others are ones I’ve only discovered quite recently. All of them firmly deserve a place in 2013’s Honourable Mentions.

The Amity Affliction-Chasing Ghosts

I had come to the conclusion that I was only really into metalcore when I was younger. You know, that stuff with the brutally screamed vocals that blended into soaring anthemic choruses you could actually sing along with. Atreyu basically (but weren’t Atreyu brilliant?). I thought I’d probably grown out of it and the stuff I still listen to I did out of a combination of time-and-place nostalgia and having gotten used to it. Then I heard The Amity Affliction. They are very like Atreyu (only Australian) and I loved them immediately. The album follows the tried and tested formula of two styles of vocals mixing together over heavy guitars. In all fairness not big on originality, but I can’t say I minded. I’m quite pleased this kind of stuff is back in my life.

Stand out tracks: Chasing Ghosts, Life Underground, Open Letter

Deaf Havana-Fools and Worthless Liars

 

Hot on the heels of rediscovering my love of screamo I got into these guy’s first album, Meet Me Halfway at Least. I knew they’d gone down from two vocalists to one for their second effort and therefore had lost their scream, but I thought I’d give it a go. Turns out I actually preferred it. This album struck a chord with me as a lot of the songs are about being in your mid-twenties and wondering where it all went wrong (oh hai internal monologue). At times it drifts towards pretension and you sometimes get the feeling they’re trying to reach into the realms of jaded men of the world. Their age means it doesn’t always ring true but lyrically there was more than enough here to satisfy me.

Stand out tracks: The Past Six Years, Mostly I’m a Bore

Editors-The Weight of Your Love

 

I went through a phase in my first year of uni of being very much into the Editors. Then, as is oft the way, I got new music and started listening to them less and less. I didn’t feel bereft, but when I heard this I came to the conclusion immediately this was an oversight. It’s easy to believe that I would love this album no matter what with its low vocals, guitars and lovelorn lyrics but when it’s done this well it doesn’t really matter. Not bad for a CD I bought as the second half of a two for £15 offer with Bastille’s Bad Blood (which is nowhere near as good by the way).

Stand out tracks: Sugar, What is This Thing Called Love?, Formaldehyde.

The Gaslight Anthem-Handwritten and The ’59 Sound

 

Yeah, I know, two albums from the same band, but hear me out. My brother recommended them to me (he’s usually only good for dance music) and although I’d never really been into stuff like this I was hooked almost immediately. Having brought their most recent album (Handwritten) I then almost immediately bought the one before (The ’59 Sound) and neither left me disappointed. At first listen they could just be another guitar brandishing, macho, Springsteen tribute act, but lyrically they’re fantastic storytellers. They evoke a wonderful, downbeat Americana that’s almost folky and have everything from love songs to lamenting a lost youth to seeking out an absent father. OK, so they are very Springsteen. They also have a song that’s mentions my name and takes its title from one of my favourite films; Here’s Looking At You Kid and the line ‘you can tell Ana if she asks why that a thief stole my heart while she was making up her mind.’ Boom.

 

Stand out tracks; Handwritten-Handwritten, Biloxi Parish, Mae. The ’59 Sound-Great Expectations, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, Here’s Looking at You Kid.       

Kittie-I’ve Failed You

 

Continuing the themes this year of metal and bands I forgot about then made myself very happy by re-discovering I give you Kittie’s latest album. It had been literally years since I’d heard anything by them and although it’s still definitely the same band they seem to have grown lot more confidant in their style. They’re prepared to mellow out a bit, have songs that are a bit longer and throw some more proggy, experimental elements in there. At its core however it’s still brutal guitars and their fabulous vocalist alternating between her distinctive pleading and gravelly scream. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stand out Tracks: I’ve Failed You, What Have I Done?, Never Come Home.