I’m glad I had a chance to see the elusive Portishead lead singer live, but I wish I found the concert more emotionally engaging.
It feels strange to complain about something that’s as beautiful and perfect as it can be, but to me a great gig has to amount to more than the songs I love flawlessly reproduced onstage. I could find no fault whatsoever with Beth’s band of accomplished musicians and their gorgeous arrangements, and Beth’s voice has lost none of its fragile ethereal beauty and nuance. I was also very excited to hear the new songs from her latest album, so my muted response can’t be chalked down to “I like your old stuff better than your new stuff”, as the Regurgitator song goes.
I’ve been to Hamer Hall many times, but I’ve never seen it cloaked in smoke coming from the smoke machine well before the show started. Together with the dramatic lighting, this hazy and mystical atmosphere was an excellent setting for the otherworldly music of Lives Outgrown. The light show was also obviously designed to keep Beth an enigmatic dark silhouette, with her face permanently in the shadow. I wasn’t really shocked to find her a shy and diffident performer with barely any audience interaction. She didn’t speak until maybe half an hour into the show, and so softly she was immediately drowned out by the loud cheers, probably relieved that we weren’t in for another silent break between the songs.
Normally I’m a sucker for mood and atmosphere and I couldn’t really put my finger on why I felt so weirdly disengaged. Some of the best and most memorable concerts I’ve been to had singers who didn’t utter a single word to the crowd, and I absolutely loved the Mazzy Star gig from years ago, where their timid lead vocalist stayed hidden in the shadows and never showed her face. A dynamic, charismatic stage presence and warm banter is great, but it’s never been a make-or-break thing for me.
It’s true that I’m generally not a fan of albums played live in their entirety; though on this occasion the order of the songs was tweaked a bit, it still robs a concert of a sense of unpredictability and looseness. It’s maybe telling that the first time the show truly came to life for me was when Beth and the band broke away from the new album with Mysteries off her sublime 2002 record with Rustin Man. But then again, I still enjoyed the past shows playing through an album, even if I grumbled about the format. Somehow, all these factors that wouldn’t have bothered me in isolation held me at an emotional distance this time around.
There were still highlights and moments of haunting beauty. Oceans, one of my favourites from Lives Outgrown, was simply spellbinding, with a violin-accompanied chorus that tugs at my soul. For the encore, Beth reached deep into her Portishead past with Roads and Glory Box, songs that I never ever expected to hear live and which predictably drew the biggest response from the audience. It was awe-inspiring to see that her vocal control and mastery of tone and texture hasn’t diminished at all thirty years on. As impressive as her musical talents are though, Beth Gibbons is perhaps not a live artist for me.
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