Post by Admin on Jul 19, 2011 10:11:48 GMT -5
Beth Orton, Ed Harcoat
By Ali Swann
The Sands Centre, Carlisle. Thursday 10th October 2002
Tonight, the dull gym-hall ambience of Carlisle’s Sands Centre has been successfully curbed. Ushers in tuxedoes wait at imperious curtains to take the ticket stubs, and a chandelier reigns above the stage in tonight’s fully-seated theater. Red carpet treatment indeed.
Ed Harcourt brings the charm of a dapper rogue to the occasion, under an improbable coiffure that his sweat wilts under the smouldering spotlights. Ed as a performer though is a much hardier concern, gamely pre-empting potential hecklers and easily voicing his songs – like Jeff Buckley playfully riffing on the Brian Wilson songbook – with guitar and piano in turn, and his undeniably lustrous croon. He and his band alike never overstep the mark, yet with radiant tunes like ‘She Fell Into My Arms’ they still keep the entertainment at a premium – in other words, an ideal support act, and a man proven worthy of his own spotlight to boot.
When the lights dim once more, the applause gives way to a sweet and tangible tension, as though Ms. Orton and her band hold the keys to a hundred tender memories. The chiefly acoustic ensemble prove they don’t need the electronic decorations sewn into the new ‘Daybreaker’ album, and the songs which first found Beth recognition from fickle London’s mid-90’s Heavenly Social dance scene are rendered here with a wistful worldliness that rings just as true to tonight’s more mature Carlisle audience. Beth herself, though unassumingly dressed in simple bowling shirt and jeans, still effortlessly surpasses comedown-queen status to adopt the mantle of butterscotch chanteuse, crowned serene beneath her chandelier.
She’s friendly and in good voice throughout, and with her show achieving a fine balance between full band renditions and Beth’s solo acoustic numbers, both the singer and her players earn their seasons to glow. ‘Concrete Sky’ is held back until well into the encore, but the woven calm upon the audience is potent enough for it to seem like a long time well-spent. No doubt we’d still be lingering there now if the house lights didn’t come back up. Better make that a hundred and one tender memories, then…
By Ali Swann
The Sands Centre, Carlisle. Thursday 10th October 2002
Tonight, the dull gym-hall ambience of Carlisle’s Sands Centre has been successfully curbed. Ushers in tuxedoes wait at imperious curtains to take the ticket stubs, and a chandelier reigns above the stage in tonight’s fully-seated theater. Red carpet treatment indeed.
Ed Harcourt brings the charm of a dapper rogue to the occasion, under an improbable coiffure that his sweat wilts under the smouldering spotlights. Ed as a performer though is a much hardier concern, gamely pre-empting potential hecklers and easily voicing his songs – like Jeff Buckley playfully riffing on the Brian Wilson songbook – with guitar and piano in turn, and his undeniably lustrous croon. He and his band alike never overstep the mark, yet with radiant tunes like ‘She Fell Into My Arms’ they still keep the entertainment at a premium – in other words, an ideal support act, and a man proven worthy of his own spotlight to boot.
When the lights dim once more, the applause gives way to a sweet and tangible tension, as though Ms. Orton and her band hold the keys to a hundred tender memories. The chiefly acoustic ensemble prove they don’t need the electronic decorations sewn into the new ‘Daybreaker’ album, and the songs which first found Beth recognition from fickle London’s mid-90’s Heavenly Social dance scene are rendered here with a wistful worldliness that rings just as true to tonight’s more mature Carlisle audience. Beth herself, though unassumingly dressed in simple bowling shirt and jeans, still effortlessly surpasses comedown-queen status to adopt the mantle of butterscotch chanteuse, crowned serene beneath her chandelier.
She’s friendly and in good voice throughout, and with her show achieving a fine balance between full band renditions and Beth’s solo acoustic numbers, both the singer and her players earn their seasons to glow. ‘Concrete Sky’ is held back until well into the encore, but the woven calm upon the audience is potent enough for it to seem like a long time well-spent. No doubt we’d still be lingering there now if the house lights didn’t come back up. Better make that a hundred and one tender memories, then…