Mark Lanegan at Scala
Mark Lanegan
Duke Garwood
Tiffany Anders
Scala, 4 May 2010
Tiffany Anders is best known to me for singing backing vocals on one of my favourite ever Dinosaur Jr songs, the heart-wrenching Get Me. She was only a teen at the time and knew Dinosaur’s J Mascis through her mother, filmmaker Allison Anders, who J had worked with when he wrote the music for her film Gas, Food & Lodging.
Later Tiffany went on to record two albums herself, the last of which was produced by PJ Harvey. Although that record came out a few years ago this is actually her first ever London show and the petite brunette, shyly sits down in front of the crowd with just an acoustic guitar. You can definitely hear what PJ Harvey liked about her music: it’s stark, honest and beautifully sad. But the problem is, as with the album, Tiffany’s voice just isn’t strong or distinctive enough, and it makes the songs blend into one another. It also becomes a pretty mournful affair, with very few upbeat numbers and little banter between songs, so when she takes time to tune her guitar you can feel (and hear) the crowd losing interest. Still, I’m glad I got to see her and I’m interested to hear what she does next.
Duke Garwood seems to divide opinion, people seem to either love or hate him and I have to admit, that only makes me warm to him even more. Every time I’ve seen him (always supporting Lanegan, a big fan and friend it seems), he’s been different. First time he was playing that drony, Lift To Experience-style feedback blues, second time he had a shuffling drummer who helped drive the songs and made it a much more upbeat affair. This time, accompanied by a drummer and violinist, it’s the best I’ve seen him, beautifully filling the venue with his ghostly, gothic blues. The woman next to me shakes her head and says she doesn’t like that kind of “storyteller music” which I find especially odd since Duke’s vocals are always low in the mix so you can’t hear what he’s singing, it’s more about atmosphere and you can almost imagine him and his bandmates in some rickety shack somewhere in the Deep South in the 30s, playing his dark, chilling, sold-his-soul-to-the-Devil blues on a dark, sweaty night. This time, more than ever, I see exactly what Lanegan loves about him because it’s pretty close to what Lanegan was doing on his early solo albums.
I’ve seen Mark Lanegan 15 times now but, before this, solo only once and, although the show was good, my one abiding memory of it is the fact that he was about an hour and a half late on stage. Once he slowly dragged himself on his appearance was pretty shocking: thin, gaunt, frail and seemingly propping himself up by his microphone, it was pretty clear why it had taken him so long to get to the stage and later we would learn this was at the height of his drug addiction. Tonight, not only does he not leave the audience waiting, he’s actually early, emerging from backstage before 9.30pm followed by guitarist Dave Rosser (who also accompanied him on his acoustic tour with Greg Dulli last year). Now clean from drugs and looking tall and healthy once again, he’s an impressive and imposing figure dressed in black. The tour with Dulli obviously was a positive experience (and saw him on rare occasions cracking jokes and smiling!) and most likely was more financially rewarding than his previous full-band tours (when I saw him solo, I think it was a six-piece band complete with tattooed Suicide Girl-style backing singer) which probably explains this long-awaited solo appearance that isn’t in support of a new album or release. Therefore, this promises to be a set full of old favourites and on that he certainly delivers, with material taken from throughout his career, from his early days with Screaming Trees to his last release with Soulsavers: a fan’s dream come true pretty much.
He begins with one of the slower numbers from probably his most popular solo release, Bubblegum, the sorrowful lament When Your Number Isn’t Up, following it with a stunning trifecta of songs from Field Songs (easily my favourite Lanegan album), One Way Street, No Easy Action which perfectly blends into Miracle. The audience roar approval, this is a good start. Between songs Lanegan turns from the microphone, bowing his head and revving himself up, appearing to shake off each song, shrugging off the old tune before taking on the new tale, because, despite the earlier fan’s misgivings about Duke Garwood, unlike him, Lanegan really is storyteller music, as evidenced by his next choice of song, the old Tim Hardin tune Shiloh Town, about soldiers returning home to an empty town after the war.
One of the first surprises of the night is when he digs out Where The Twain Shall Meet, from Screaming Trees’ 1989 album Buzz Factory and there’s also rare outings from Hit The City b-side Mirrored and dark, chilling cover versions of Pink Floyd’s Julia Dream and, bizarrely, the Connie Francis Egyptian-themed hit Misirlou (before which a female fan shouts “give us a smile Mark!” getting a rare, unexpected and reluctant grin from the solemn Lanegan, which gets a loud cheer from the crowd). His fine but eclectic choice of material to cover is a testament to his taste and talent, ranging from baroque pop to country to punk, Lanegan still manages to make each song, no matter how unusual, sound dark and brooding, just like it was written for him.
The highlight of the night for me though had to be a breathtaking The River Rise, Lanegan’s voice smoothly ascending from croon to rumble with the music. It’s enough to send chills. There’s also a welcome version of Screaming Trees’ sweetly sad Traveler. Getting the best reaction from the audience though was Hangin' Tree, one of his Queens Of The Stone Age numbers, but I felt it didn’t translate to the minimal acoustic arrangement as well as some of the other tunes.
Still, Lanegan’s voice (which, let’s face it, is the star here), that glorious, low thunder of a voice, was on top form throughout and the crowd lapped up every song, incredibly even managing to entice Lanegan out for two encores. This was even more amazing considering that apparently two nights before the chatting audience had annoyed Lanegan so much that he walked off stage. At this gig, though, the audience remained in hushed awe throughout and deservedly so, because tonight Lanegan was magnificent.
Later Tiffany went on to record two albums herself, the last of which was produced by PJ Harvey. Although that record came out a few years ago this is actually her first ever London show and the petite brunette, shyly sits down in front of the crowd with just an acoustic guitar. You can definitely hear what PJ Harvey liked about her music: it’s stark, honest and beautifully sad. But the problem is, as with the album, Tiffany’s voice just isn’t strong or distinctive enough, and it makes the songs blend into one another. It also becomes a pretty mournful affair, with very few upbeat numbers and little banter between songs, so when she takes time to tune her guitar you can feel (and hear) the crowd losing interest. Still, I’m glad I got to see her and I’m interested to hear what she does next.
Duke Garwood seems to divide opinion, people seem to either love or hate him and I have to admit, that only makes me warm to him even more. Every time I’ve seen him (always supporting Lanegan, a big fan and friend it seems), he’s been different. First time he was playing that drony, Lift To Experience-style feedback blues, second time he had a shuffling drummer who helped drive the songs and made it a much more upbeat affair. This time, accompanied by a drummer and violinist, it’s the best I’ve seen him, beautifully filling the venue with his ghostly, gothic blues. The woman next to me shakes her head and says she doesn’t like that kind of “storyteller music” which I find especially odd since Duke’s vocals are always low in the mix so you can’t hear what he’s singing, it’s more about atmosphere and you can almost imagine him and his bandmates in some rickety shack somewhere in the Deep South in the 30s, playing his dark, chilling, sold-his-soul-to-the-Devil blues on a dark, sweaty night. This time, more than ever, I see exactly what Lanegan loves about him because it’s pretty close to what Lanegan was doing on his early solo albums.
I’ve seen Mark Lanegan 15 times now but, before this, solo only once and, although the show was good, my one abiding memory of it is the fact that he was about an hour and a half late on stage. Once he slowly dragged himself on his appearance was pretty shocking: thin, gaunt, frail and seemingly propping himself up by his microphone, it was pretty clear why it had taken him so long to get to the stage and later we would learn this was at the height of his drug addiction. Tonight, not only does he not leave the audience waiting, he’s actually early, emerging from backstage before 9.30pm followed by guitarist Dave Rosser (who also accompanied him on his acoustic tour with Greg Dulli last year). Now clean from drugs and looking tall and healthy once again, he’s an impressive and imposing figure dressed in black. The tour with Dulli obviously was a positive experience (and saw him on rare occasions cracking jokes and smiling!) and most likely was more financially rewarding than his previous full-band tours (when I saw him solo, I think it was a six-piece band complete with tattooed Suicide Girl-style backing singer) which probably explains this long-awaited solo appearance that isn’t in support of a new album or release. Therefore, this promises to be a set full of old favourites and on that he certainly delivers, with material taken from throughout his career, from his early days with Screaming Trees to his last release with Soulsavers: a fan’s dream come true pretty much.
He begins with one of the slower numbers from probably his most popular solo release, Bubblegum, the sorrowful lament When Your Number Isn’t Up, following it with a stunning trifecta of songs from Field Songs (easily my favourite Lanegan album), One Way Street, No Easy Action which perfectly blends into Miracle. The audience roar approval, this is a good start. Between songs Lanegan turns from the microphone, bowing his head and revving himself up, appearing to shake off each song, shrugging off the old tune before taking on the new tale, because, despite the earlier fan’s misgivings about Duke Garwood, unlike him, Lanegan really is storyteller music, as evidenced by his next choice of song, the old Tim Hardin tune Shiloh Town, about soldiers returning home to an empty town after the war.
One of the first surprises of the night is when he digs out Where The Twain Shall Meet, from Screaming Trees’ 1989 album Buzz Factory and there’s also rare outings from Hit The City b-side Mirrored and dark, chilling cover versions of Pink Floyd’s Julia Dream and, bizarrely, the Connie Francis Egyptian-themed hit Misirlou (before which a female fan shouts “give us a smile Mark!” getting a rare, unexpected and reluctant grin from the solemn Lanegan, which gets a loud cheer from the crowd). His fine but eclectic choice of material to cover is a testament to his taste and talent, ranging from baroque pop to country to punk, Lanegan still manages to make each song, no matter how unusual, sound dark and brooding, just like it was written for him.
The highlight of the night for me though had to be a breathtaking The River Rise, Lanegan’s voice smoothly ascending from croon to rumble with the music. It’s enough to send chills. There’s also a welcome version of Screaming Trees’ sweetly sad Traveler. Getting the best reaction from the audience though was Hangin' Tree, one of his Queens Of The Stone Age numbers, but I felt it didn’t translate to the minimal acoustic arrangement as well as some of the other tunes.
Still, Lanegan’s voice (which, let’s face it, is the star here), that glorious, low thunder of a voice, was on top form throughout and the crowd lapped up every song, incredibly even managing to entice Lanegan out for two encores. This was even more amazing considering that apparently two nights before the chatting audience had annoyed Lanegan so much that he walked off stage. At this gig, though, the audience remained in hushed awe throughout and deservedly so, because tonight Lanegan was magnificent.
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