Saturday, March 12, 2005
Martha Wainwright - Glasgow Brel bar 25th February
"It's like a confessional in here," says Martha, a few songs into her set, to a rapt, silent, unblinking audience. She is referring to the atmosphere, but her songs, backed only by her acoustic guitar stained with Ed Harcourt's blood, are so personal and raw that you sense an intimacy here, that you are privy to some of her secrets.
This blogs first trip outside auld reekie takes us to Brel, a small, pleasant bar themed around Jaques, the belgian chantuer, and covered in austere, French-looking portraits of the great man. The venue is up the stairs, and was described by support Jonathan Rice as a "greenhouse" - small and glazed on one side, and with a glazed roof. Rice sounds worthy and angry- breaking 2 guitar strings in the course of his short set, but is visibly put off by the silent crowd, seeming nervous and telling us repeatedly how in America, they just talk over him. Perhaps we should have. Despite competant playing, his songs were nothing special and he broke off at one point to deliver a lengthy monologue about punching someone in a posh hotel. 2/5
Martha strides on shortly after, having had her guitar re-strung from when Johnathan broke one. Her main asset is that incredible voice, keening and vunerable. Tonight she seems a little tired, which suits her songs well. a ripple of subdued laughter eddies around the room as she introduces ep title track and contaversial headline-grabber "Bloody Motherfucking Asshole" as 'A song I wrote about my Dad.' The majority of the sold-out crowd are fans of Martha's musical family and perhaps thought Rufus's 'Dinner at Eight' was harsh. Martha, like Jonathan, seemed a little nervous but was more at ease, chatting to the nonresponsive crowd and taking requests (including a stunning 'Year of the Dragon') and playing for around an hour. An album is promised soon, hopefully including 'Ball and Chain,' still stuck in my head weeks later. Halfway through her self-announced last song another string lets go, but struggling on she finishes. I have a ticket for the Edinburgh leg of this tour, let's hope she has enough guitar strings to get that far. 4/5
This blogs first trip outside auld reekie takes us to Brel, a small, pleasant bar themed around Jaques, the belgian chantuer, and covered in austere, French-looking portraits of the great man. The venue is up the stairs, and was described by support Jonathan Rice as a "greenhouse" - small and glazed on one side, and with a glazed roof. Rice sounds worthy and angry- breaking 2 guitar strings in the course of his short set, but is visibly put off by the silent crowd, seeming nervous and telling us repeatedly how in America, they just talk over him. Perhaps we should have. Despite competant playing, his songs were nothing special and he broke off at one point to deliver a lengthy monologue about punching someone in a posh hotel. 2/5
Martha strides on shortly after, having had her guitar re-strung from when Johnathan broke one. Her main asset is that incredible voice, keening and vunerable. Tonight she seems a little tired, which suits her songs well. a ripple of subdued laughter eddies around the room as she introduces ep title track and contaversial headline-grabber "Bloody Motherfucking Asshole" as 'A song I wrote about my Dad.' The majority of the sold-out crowd are fans of Martha's musical family and perhaps thought Rufus's 'Dinner at Eight' was harsh. Martha, like Jonathan, seemed a little nervous but was more at ease, chatting to the nonresponsive crowd and taking requests (including a stunning 'Year of the Dragon') and playing for around an hour. An album is promised soon, hopefully including 'Ball and Chain,' still stuck in my head weeks later. Halfway through her self-announced last song another string lets go, but struggling on she finishes. I have a ticket for the Edinburgh leg of this tour, let's hope she has enough guitar strings to get that far. 4/5
# posted by Sagremor the Foolish @ 7:13 PM 
