Joanna Newsom @ Somerset House
July 20 2008 @ Somerset House, London.
The last gig of this year’s Summer Series, a solo set by singer-songwriter Joanna Newsom, promises to be one of the best. The harpist’s distinctive voice and ambitious narrative song structures on ‘Ys’ undeniably made it one of 2006’s most memorable albums and, after her show at the Royal Albert Hall last year, this rare UK performance should be altogether more intimate.
Support band and Drag City label mates, Red Krayola, are out first, fading into their first London gig in 20 years as most people are still queuing to get into the courtyard. It’s not the most anticipated of returns if truth be told. There’s no doubt that the choice of Mayo Thompson’s ever-changing collective of musicians is an odd one for this young audience. Famed for testing their most hardened fans with some of their 40 years of releases, the band elicits a predictable response – giggling couples, confusion but, predominantly, chatter and indifference. Now, I’m a fan of their music but even I stifle a snigger as they optimistically call on the audience to ‘sing along if you know the words’. Thompson, for his part, is undeterred by the incredulity greeting not-quite-classic songs such as ‘Yik Yak’. Before he walks off stage to slight applause, he claims: ‘it won’t be 20 years until the next one...or maybe it will’ – possibilities, one imagines, to please both his fans and everybody else.
Joanna Newsom’s set, in contrast, starts unadventurously with ‘Bridges and Balloons’ and ‘Emily’ – but it doesn’t matter. There is almost complete silence save the chiming of the clock and some notably discourteous gulls overhead. In truth, it’s the older songs that work better in the open space here. Most of the string-laden pieces from ‘Ys’ are sensibly expelled from the set to make way for the shorter, more direct songs of her debut album.
Midway through, she leaves the harp for piano and plays three new songs. The first one – ‘kinda new, not super new’ – is built around a simple repeated phrase, seems almost too straightforward and I’m immediately disappointed. It’s rescued by the distinction of her voice which imbues it with an ethereal quality and could well make it a grower. ‘Inflammatory Wit’ and two more new songs at the piano follow, one with a strong blues influence and another sparse, lyrically very direct and personal. These songs are sketchy and will surely be revised a few times before making their way to record. As if sensing the slight agitation amongst her audience, we’re back with the harp and enjoying an immaculate rendition of ‘Peach, Plum, Pear’.
By the time the it’s over, the last delicate notes of ‘Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie’ drifting off, she truly has the audience in her hands. Her next album is expected sometime later in the year and it certainly seems one to look forward to.