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Live GOAT SWX Bristol 19 October
Blood is an overarching theme in Norwegian avantpop artist Jenny Hval’s latest release Blood Bitch. It’s also a recurring motif in her live show – an energetic collage of surreal theatrics. Hval greets the audience with a brief and cheerful introduction as she takes to the stage alongside cloaked bandmate Havard Volden on synths and dancer Orfee Schuijt. Hval then addresses the elephant in the room – they are carrying a 12ft inflatable paddling pool with them. The pool is laid flat at the back of the stage and the set opens with the gentle drone and softly spoken vocals of Ritual Awakening. Hval wanders around the stage while Schujit produces several white sketchpads and begins to scrawl something across their pages. Conceptual Romance follows and by the time the chorus breaks, the pads are revealed: Schujit has been colouring in dozens of pages with red crayon. Hval’s vocal range is as broad and measured live as it is on record, and the slightly haphazard choreography compliments the music. It doesn’t take long before Schujit is in the pool, shades on her face, pretending to do the backstroke. The tracks that stray into harsh noise territory feel forceful and raucous live, punctuating the gentler moments of the album and making for a set that delivers on multiple fronts. As the set progresses, the theatrics escalate and towards the end Hval and Schujit are in swimming costumes, covered in fake blood and doing aerobics in black capes. While these elements are far from polished, their spontaneity and energy leaves the more reserved shows of some of her peers looking cold and lifeless by comparison. ! Steve Mallon
MOODYMANN Invisible Wind Factory, Liverpool 8 October “I’m not the smoothest motherfucker,” Moodymann says, leaning over the turntables with the ends of his bandana hanging across his face. “But we gon’ have a good time Liverpool”. We’re not fooled – Moodymann’s mixing and sequencing is characteristically nonchalant but his all-round ‘smoothness’ isn’t up for debate. He was the perfect headliner for RBMA’s Club Cosmos, a bespoke clubbing experience billed as “stargazing for the post disco generation”. With ariel instillations and a laser-light show, a mysterious, extraterrestrial mood hangs in the air. It's a tone that Kenny Dixon Jr. has always captured innately. With warm up from OR:LA and Sassy J capturing the spectrum of the cosmos brilliantly – flitting between sparkly disco and dreamy house – the tone was set just right. On walks Moodymann. After playing a cut from Prince early on, an airing of D’Angelo and the Vanguard’s Betray My Heart eased us into the small hours. His set stayed on point besides a couple of misfires (Moderat’s Bad Kingdom doesn’t sound quite as fresh as it once did) but he mixed in some of his go-to choices like Fred Wesley’s House Party and The Doobie Brothers’s Long Train Running for huge singalong moments. The track-list was also the perfect soundtrack for falling in love with Liverpool and it’s people – the crowd were upbeat and celebratory throughout, providing an exemplary case study for the argument that sanctuaries can be found outside of the capital. While the night wasn’t quite the history lesson a “post disco generation” writer like myself might have hoped for, the one-off instillations and the smartly curated lineup made for a clubbing experience which sat apart from my standard, earthly adventures. ! Duncan Harrison N RBMA
! Ian Ochiltree N Mark Dearman
GIANNI Deutsche Oper Berlin 1 October
JE AN-MICHEL JARRE The O2, London 7 October Much like the kitsch electronica and camp interpretations of the intergalactic future that he has championed for over four decades, JeanMichel Jarre’s notoriety comes and goes like the seasonal nature of fashion. Luckily for Jarre, the current appetite for throwback analogue soundtracking is strong. But, as he demonstrates so diligently tonight, it’s wrong to suggest the artist has nothing left to contribute to a sound he helped establish in the 70s. With the aid of arresting visuals and a big-budget light show, Jarre utilises this O2 Arena performance to address some deeply-resonating postures on global current affairs. “I’ve always regarded the UK as my second home,” he begins, having skipped down from his risen booth of keys and wires. “Brexit or no Brexit.” It’s been six years since the composer last toured the UK and in the face of the drastic change since his previous visit, Jarre remains unequivocally sincere and positive. Similarly, at midpoint through the performance, he comments on the work with “a very special collaborator,” at which point the pseudo-industrial chugging of Exit begins. A clip of Edward Snowden appears as the backdrop, with the whistleblower speaking directly to the arena on the naivety of neglecting our rights to personal data privacy. “Saying you don’t care about privacy because you have nothing to hide is like believing you don’t care about freedom of speech because you have nothing to say,” Snowden laments while Jarre gently antes the rate of drum samples. It’s a genuinely powerful and unexpected partnership The whole performance carries with it this degree of softly politicised symbolism that enhances the emotion of tracks both classic and unfamiliar. Oxygène 2 and 4, two of his most popular compositions, still own an otherworldly allure as if Jarre is sending out ‘welcome’ messages to alien life-forms. His encore, a preview of Oxygène 17 and the Armin Van Buuren assisted Stardust are showered in geometric polychrome, rainbow prisms, and enough light to keep a small country out of darkness. It’s all brilliantly overblown, but there’s an emotive urgency in his performance tonight. After 40 years of soundtracking the space age, JeanMichel Jarre is still an artist that has a lot left to say, without having to say that much at all. . ! Tom Watson N Mark Harrop
Gianni is the Brandt Bauer Frick-soundtracked opera by English director Martin Butler about the rise and fall of fashion icon Gianni Versace, and his murder at the hands of serial killer Andrew Cunanen. Gianni Versace, one of the fashion world’s first openly gay designers, and arguably the first to link music and fashion together, was a perfect fit for the opera’s vogue ball setting. That said, in terms of narrative, the story about Versace’s rise to fame, his experience as a gay man and a fashion designer, and his staggering celebrity were all, oddly, missing from the show’s narrative. In fact, it was difficult to find any narrative beyond the vogueing until the show’s second act, which featured a confusing segment about the stabbing of various characters from the show, including the ball’s “Mother,” portrayed by Amsterdam-based vogue queen Amber Vineyard. Luckily, Gianni’s music was monumental, Brandt Brauer Frick providing a soundtrack that thundered along with the dancers’ dramatic moves, or built up to a swell of cinematic force. And as for the actual voguing, it was stunning, throwing out intense dance moves that seemed to blend vogue’s Old and New ways. Lyrically, though, the show struggled, often painfully obvious explanations of the opera’s themes — literally, “Fashion! Wealth! Power! Fame!” I spent the performance confused as to when the Gianni Versace story would come into play, and left disappointed that, as far as I understood, it hadn't. Perhaps I’m at fault here — maybe I didn't “get it” — but walking back to the train station from the theater, I heard others asking themselves similar questions. ! Emma Robertson N Thomas Aurin
REVIEWS
JENNY HVAL Stereo, Glasgow 17 October
Given its previous life as stickycarpeted ‘superclub’ Syndicate, it’s difficult to imagine Bristol's SWX hosting a ritual held by gang of dayglo pagans. But it’s happening. Once through its doors and up the stairs, old sins begin to fizzle away as dusty psych records, via the impressive new soundsystem, fill the spacious room. The lights dim as a tribal chant hums over the PA. The band pick up their instruments and with a chug, it goes silent, before breaking into the tom-thumping intro to Words. To cheers, the leading pair emerge, launching instantly into possessed, tambourinebashing dance. Over an almost two hour set, Goat draw generously from their three album arsenal, each demonstrating their ability to mine from transcontinental genres and fuse together lean and digestible songs. From Goatfuzz, through to Disco Fever and into Trouble in the Streets they glide from fuzzy Sabbath to Ghanaian Highlife. Their costume box provides the visual accompaniment, pastiching an array of eras, cultures and traditions at once. The vocal duo remain brilliantly intense. Stalking, sweeping and swirling into perpetuity. They shake maracas, twirl ribbons, gyrate, chant and bounce. At times they carry the show, as momentum lapses during I Sing in Silence, their manic orchestration drags you back in. The night is wound up with regular closer, and suitably dramatic, Det Som Aldrig Förändras - Kristallen Den Fina as the band gradually leave the stage. Chicago’s If You Leave Me Now begin to play as the lights come back up and suddenly everyone is transported back to a drizzly Wednesday in Bristol with a thump. Good, clean, weird fun.