Mark Lanegan at Koko

Mark Lanegan
Joe Cardamone
Duke Garwood
Koko, 12 December 2017

Once again I venture out into the cold, dark, winter night to see Mark Lanegan, my 19th time seeing him live no less. It's actually been five years since I saw him, the last time when his excellent album Blues Funeral came out and he's been oddly prolific since then so there are a lot of Lanegan tunes I've yet to experience live.

First though, as always with Lanegan, he has plenty of support acts helping to build up to the main event. Not surprisingly the first is his old friend Duke Garwood, who Lanegan audiences seem pretty used to seeing on a bill with the main man. Since the last time I've seen them both they have finally recorded an album together (2013's Black Pudding) but sadly Lanegan doesn't join him to perform any of those songs tonight.

Garwood's still looks like an old-time bluesman and he still plays feedbacking, Gothic blues with gruff whispered vocals that is often reminiscent of the band Lift To Experience. In the past I've seen him perform alone but tonight he has a drummer that helps drive the songs along. Also helping is a huge white screen (belonging to the next support act) onto which lights are projected making him look a little more psychedelic and entertaining. 

I don't think I'll ever like Garwood as much as Lanegan obviously does but this show was probably was one of the better times I've seen him.

The next act couldn't have been more different and I think my jaw dropped for his first couple of numbers. I didn't realise it at the time but I've actually seen Joe Cardamone before when he was the frontman of Los Angeles hardcore band The Icarus Line, who I briefly loved when their debut album Mono came out back in 2001. 

It turns out Cardamone has gone solo with a new project called Holy War and we get a first glimpse of this with an amazing and shocking short film projected on the aforementioned white screen on the stage. It's full of dark, bloody, spooky and religious imagery cut to Cardamone's loud, angry soundtrack. Then Cardamone himself grabs a microphone and performs in front of various images, looking like the bastard son of David Bowie (circa The Man Who Fell To Earth), John Lydon and Satan, probably. 

The music is industrial mostly, with elements of Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails, and often the bass is so deep and low you could feel it vibrating throughout the whole venue and your body too. The visuals though were what made the whole performance so unique. Cardamone mainly crouched in front of the screen, his shadow striking a huge black figure against the imagery which went from geometric lines to images of the destruction in war-torn Syrian city of Aleppo. 

It kind of blew me away to be honest and it certainly wasn't boring. Cardamone seems to be a name to watch.

Finally, Lanegan the great beast, arrived to more lights than I've ever seen at any of his shows. There have been times in the past when I've been barely able to make out the big man on stage because of his love of playing a darkened stage but whether it's him getting more mellow in his old age or needing more light (he tends to wear glasses most of the time these days), it's actually quite nice to be able to see him perform, even if he does just stand at his microphone and close his eyes as per usual.

Lanegan is such a magnetic performer though: he just has this massive presence that means he doesn't have to do much other than sing in that magnificently deep voice of his to be utterly compelling.

Fronting a four-piece band, he begins the show with Death Head's Tattoo, the first track from his new album, Gargoyle, a kind of menacing electro-goth  driven by that beautiful growl of his.

The last two albums (Gargoyle - what a great name for a Lanegan album - and Phantom Radio) make up the majority of the set, which is fine by me as I haven't seen him in so long but the aesthetic is a more gloomy keyboard-driven rock than the lo-fi smoke and whiskey-fueled folk he also specialises in (and which may be my favourite side of Lanegan).

Still it's nice to see Lanegan singing with his girlfriend Shelley Brien (looking especially striking in a black leather jacket, shiny leggings and thigh-high boots) on songs such as Blue Blue Sea, Hit The City (with Shelley singing the Polly Harvey bits) and The Gravedigger's Song. There's even a tender moment before she leaves the stage when Lanegan takes her hand and gives her a quick kiss on the lips. It's a side I've never seen of Lanegan on stage before and I can't help it, but it warms my cold heart.

Lanegan made full use of his band for most of the set (even Duke Garwood turned up a couple of times to play guitar in the background), veering towards his heavier songs and I was particularly happy to hear tracks such as Methamphetamine Blues, Come To Me and Ode To Sad Disco, from two of my favourite Lanegan albums (Bubblegum and Blues Funeral) sung by Lanegan in that big thunderous voice of his and sounding better than ever.

Despite this my favourite moments were definitely the quieter songs where we got to hear that amazing voice clearly, without electric instruments getting in the way. The encore gave us that with the most beautiful versions of Bombed and One Way Street, with Lanegan accompanied by just an acoustic guitar.  Proving that it's that deep unique voice that is the most powerful instrument on stage tonight. It sends chills hearing it alone and sounding so good.

It's surprising that it does sound so great because Lanegan himself looked a lot frailer than I've seen him in a long time. Part of it, of course, is just age - he's now in his 50s after all - but he was also limping quite badly and apparently has been using a cane on stage for some of the shows (I heard it's down to a bad accident he had years ago coming back to haunt him now). When he spoke his voice also sounded very raspy and I'm sure he must have been relieved this was the last date on a very long tour. That said, none of this affected his performance or his singing voice and tonight Lanegan was as good as ever and even appeared happier in himself.

The show ended with a triumphant I Am The Wolf,  the whole band returning to the stage to send us off in a brilliant haze of swirling guitars and gruff vocals.

After I managed to get him to sign my copy of his new book (also called I Am The Wolf) and shake his hand. I didn't really say much to him because meeting your heroes is such a strange thing. But when I shook his hand he gave me the warmest, nicest smile and that's what I will carry away with me more than his signature. That underneath it all, "Dark Mark", the man whose voice feels like it could shake mountains, is basically just a sweet guy. I couldn't hope for more.

Joe Cardamone's striking performance.