Manchester University


10/5/2003

In the last few days I’ve seen several ‘live’ performances on TV by young pop stars seeking fame and fortune. They are, with rare exceptions, products of marketing departments bent on making sure they look sexy, follow finitely tailored dance steps, and mime like robots. We live in an age where the young exist in a wishing well; a make-believe world created by marketing gurus; and who now generally seem to think no further than the next brand acquisition, that mega-paying job or how to beat the odds on the newest computer game. And in this world where soft porn mag covers, personality, broad-sheet banality, hype and a cute arse rule, genuine musical talent goes almost unnoticed by the consumer. Fortunately there is a breed of artists called singer/songwriters whose primary aim in life is to communicate the truth; about themselves, the crazy world we inhabit and its people.

Kathleen Edwards is a Canadian singer/songwriter whom the serious music press (a rare commodity today) admires greatly. Katheen’s debut album, FAILER is earthy and true, and hints strongly at a fresh talent with enormous potential and artistic integrity. I was impressed enough to want to see this young lady perform live. But how does one assess a live performance? While the quality of songwriting is essential for both recording and live performance, it’s never enough. There has to be a dynamic that is exclusive to the live performance, including the holy grail of creating a concrete emotional connection between artist and watcher.

If you have seen Ani DiFranco, Carina Round, Tom McRae, Damien Rice, Laurie Anderson, Nathalie Merchant, Glen Hansard, Tim Rose, and others, you’ll understand what I mean. Singer/songwriters are a very special breed and they don’t necessarily have to possess the finest voices. They are, above all, communicators and usually with an acute ability to observe the pain and joy of existing.

Kathleen was late on stage apparently due to a late yearning for a curry from Manchester’s famous ‘Curry Mile’. As it happened, this suited me down to the ground as I was able to watch a couple of songs from solemn Mr Callaghan/Smog downstairs. I also watched Smog’s alt-county support act, Canyon, and was so impressed I bought the album. On arriving back at the University’s smallest venue I observed that the audience was an interesting mix of age groups including many young uni students.

Eventually Kathleen arrived armed with a drummer, bass player and what turned out to be a very fine guitarist/backing vocalist. She opened with one of the many highlights from her new album, the contemplative and moving National Steel, and so comfortably it seemed as if it was the closing song of a successful set. A clever move this, starting with a nice slow song. The pace quickened and the melody grew with One More Song The Radio Won’t Like and with it I realised that young Kathleen has real stage presence and a performing ability beyond her years. It was also an opportunity for the band to strike up and show their metal. They looked and sounded wonderful.

There’s a strong alt-country flavour to the music as she slams into a song that does not appear on the album called Summer. With another beautiful, glacial paced album track, Hockey Skates, I was aware of not only an expressive voice but an expressive face, and the ability to stand at the mic and let both do the talking. She looked the part. The upbeat 12 Bellevue was next up and underlined her strong instinct for a melody and her love of guitar playing, especially evident when she faced up to the other guitarist and duelled - big time. And it was this vocal and playing display that finally won me over. Here was a lady that so obviously lives her music, and the audience quickly recognised it, and responded enthusiastically.

In this groove, Maria was a natural follow-up and as the guitars soared another wonderful duel ensued. When the song finished, the band left the stage to the soloist for a spell and proved that with or without a band, Kathleen Edwards excels. More songs from the album followed including the dark and haunting The Lone Wolf and my personal album favourite Mercury, which was performed to emotional and expressive perfection. You should buy the album for this song alone, and look at the photographs I took to recognise where this music comes from. It’s called a heart.

I have seen hundreds of concerts over the years and I am pretty sure that I haven’t seen a happier band of players. At one point I looked over at the drummer and he was actually smiling like a Cheshire cat! Such unity and such joy is rare in my experience. In between songs, an assured Kathleen told the audience of her experiences in Ireland and England, injected with heavy doses of dry humour. At one point she talked of a friend who was in the audience who she hadn’t seen for sixteen years. A short conversation ensued with her friend resulting in Kathleen displaying amazement that her friend’s pet dog was still alive! When it was over an enthralled audience rang out for more and Kathleen returned to perform solo again and the prettiest song on the album, Sweet Little Duck. The band returned and it signalled a riotious ending to one of the finest performances I have seen over the last few year.

It was a show full of wonderful songs (of diverse pace and mood), an extraordinarily good band and a young, beautiful but mature singer/songwriter with abundant natural talent. In was a display of songcraft that I wished some of these so-called ‘pop stars’ could have seen, and perhaps realised what real and great music is really all about. But the most telling hint of the quality of the show was the audiences reaction to an artist they had seen for the first time, and the way they hung around after it was all over, to meet Kathleen. I came away inspired, encouraged and optimistic. No cute and contrived dance steps, no primed over-the-top audience acclaim, no revealing costume, no heavy-handed marketing department, no tailor-made-in-Stockholm computer-generated pop songs, no ‘I wanna be famous’ dreams. On the night, Kathleen Edwards triumphed through talent, integrity and passion.

It can be done, and it was.