| Gig: Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan - Glasgow ABC (13 June 2008)
Isobel Campbell used to play in Belle and Sebastian, but don’t hold that against her. Despite having released a few acclaimed EPs under the Gentle Waves banner and signed a five-album deal with V2 records, her initial solo recordings failed to make much of an impression on the public at large. This changed when she hooked up with Mark Lanegan, grunge survivor, ex-Screaming Tree, on again off again heroin addict and latterly rock journeyman, for the wonderful ‘Ballad of the Broken Seas’, which turned her and her career from ‘nearly forgotten’ to ‘Mercury Music Prize nominated’.
Lanegan, now deep into his hired gun phase after collaborations with Queens of the Stone Age, Soulsavers and Twilight Singers/Gutter Twins (it can only be matter of time before he ends up in Primal Scream, like everyone else), takes the lion’s share of the vocals, the Lee Hazlewood/Nancy Sinatra vibe of their first record largely abandoned in favour of an ‘I’ll write them, you scowl mournfully and croon in the key of nicotine’ set-up, Campbell happy to have an insanely proficient band and a star vocalist to realise her songs while she provides feathery backing vocals and cello solos. While I will quite happily listen to Mark Lanegan sing quality country-blues all night long, one has to agree with the general consensus that their strange chemistry works best when she plays the Little Red Riding Hood to his Big Bad Wolf, the complete disparity of their respective voices a fascinating and, frankly, erotic combination when displayed in duet form. Even just standing on a stage, there’s a weird vibe between them: clearly enamoured with each other’s gifts but noticeably hesitant and awkward towards the other. Maybe they should just have sex or something and get it out of their systems.
As ever with Glasgow, the crowd are appreciative but rowdy, the shouts of ‘HAW! ISOBEL! OAN YERSEL!’ and suchlike rather at odds with the fragility of much of the material. Onstage banter is completely non-existent. The only time Lanegan moves is when he skulks offstage to allow Isobel a solo vocal (at one point I swear he stopped breathing... and this is him when he's healthy). None of it matters. The songs are fantastic. She sings like an angel: he is quite possibly The Devil (or at the very least he took singing lessons from him).
Highlights are a devastating run-through of first album title track ‘Ballad of the Broken Seas’ (Lanegan singing over plaintive piano chords in an affecting-yet-oddly-under-utilised high register rather than his more common subwoofer-troubling growl), heartbreaking country shuffle ‘Honey Child, What Can I Do?’ (which here sounds oddly anthemic) and pretty much all of the encore, which sees the band letting their hair down and giving the now-sozzled crowd what they really want on a Friday night: gnarled blues heavy on the dirt and distortion they can stomp, whoop and holler to. A stellar rendition of Hank Williams’ ‘Ramblin’ Man’, pitched somewhere between Tom Waits and Led Zeppelin, sets the place on fire and a runthrough of ‘Wedding Dress’ from Lanegan’s most recent solo album ‘Bubblegum’ closes the show, a nod to the hardcore fans which past instances have taught me follow him from band to band, justly confident that if he’s involved it’ll be The Good Shit. | |
