Lau, St Giles

 

On as part of Edinburgh's First Footin' series for New Years Day, which saw a variety of city centre locations turned into venues for free music, this was the offering in St Giles' Cathedral, a spectacular venue with an equally special band taking part. They performed four forty five minute sets across the afternoon, to a fresh audience each time.

After a short reading from a Len Pennie poem, the compere brought on Kathryn Joseph, who played keyboard and sang a couple of songs. While clearly talented I find much of Joseph's material too dreary and repetitive to be enjoyable, with the lack of clarity to her voice leaving the listener with few clues as to what the song is about.

For her final song she was joined by the trio Lau, and that provided a distinct step up, partly from the song itself having a bit more life to it than the others, mostly due to the quality of the arrangement and backing vocals.

Joseph moved off and we were left with the trio Lau, and short set that took them back to their roots. Simply acoustic, only Martin's accordion, Aidan's fiddle and Kris' guitar and vocal. It was refreshing to see them they way they performed these fifteen years and more ago. As tight as ever, but still freely improvising, this was grin inducing, body moving stuff, and a perfect lift for New Year.

Lau, Queens Hall

 A largely similar show to that of April last year, and yet also completely different. The most obvious difference being the addition of Kathryn Joseph to the show. But it's the constant variations and improvisations that constantly refresh even weel kent tunes, and the Martin Green inspired electronic weirdness.

Not ones for the usual format, the trio came on and played a couple of standards from their back catalogue, with the simplicity of fiddle, accordion, guitar and Drever's vocals. Only then did support act Joseph come on, to play keyboard and sing. The first two numbers with the Lau boys doing her backing, then a few on her own. She's got a good voice, and the sparse Piano accompaniment suits her well, but it felt very one paced, mournful even. The interval was welcomed.

The second half was very different, with a long mash of tunes, songs, electronics, ethereal segues, movement of microphone stands, theatrics and even physical comedy. They use the full stage, and the choreography required is complex. Joseph joined them as backing singer, and her voice was well suited to the job, notably on Toy Tigers. It was all as impressive to watch as to listen to.

They ended the night, all four of them, singing the haunting Ghosts, which is as relevant as ever, given the continuing bigotry towards refugees. A beautiful end to an invogorating evening.

Salute Ukraine!, Usher Hall

 A big gala event bringing together Scottish and Ukrainian musicians and writers.  Plus video messages from Ukrainians both here and back home in the war.  The number of acts was too long to list here, but it really did have something for everyone.  Scottish folk, Ukrainian pop and opera, storytelling and poetry, with three songs from the mighty Lau to close the event, before the Ukraine national anthem was sung - are there were a lot of emotional Ukrainians in the audience to add volume.  

There were a few technical hitches, but that felt entirely forgivable on such a worthy occasion, and one that had had to be thrown together at short notice.  With so many acts to cope with the sound check must have been a lengthy nightmare!  And the occasional glitch served as a reminder that this was an event with real human urgency behind it, that there are innocent people dying in this war, as we sat there and enjoyed the tunes and the words.  

Memorable.

Lau Unplugged, Queens Hall

The tickets said Fri 22 May 2020.  And, nearly two weird years later, here we were.  The trio Lau were back.  They looked as pleased to see us as we were to see them.

This was Lau Unplugged, the show I reviewed from Kings Place in London, back in January 2020.  With two significant differences.  There was no bird based soundscape.  And this was The Queens Hall, in Edinburgh, the band's home gig, their favourite venue, and the place where they are most loved.  It was a special night.

In the first half the guys sat centre stage, introduced and played songs and tunes from all periods of their deep history.  For The Cruel Brother they brought three backing singers from the audience - no less than Karine Polwart, Inge Thomson and Kirsty Law.  But otherwise this was genuine Unplugged - accordion, fiddle and guitar, Drever's voice, with occasional vocal contributions for Green and O'Rourke.  A reminder that, without the electronics, Lau is comprised of three virtuosos, and that the three together are capable of producing layers of incredible complexity.

The second half was... different.  Theatrical, flowing, wondrous.  No introductions, just segue after segue, movement that took in the whole stage, background soundscapes from the strangely beautiful audio cassette machine, and some ticktocking rythms from a couple of metronomes.  Plus a hilariously physical sequence involving four improvised bits of electronica, each a sound box with large cardboard coffee cup gaffertaped on. The standing ovation this 45 minute sequence received was fully deserved.

The finale brought us the wonderful, ever relevant, Ghosts, and ahppy trio Lau walking off to tumultous applause and cheering.  In a long list of outstanding Lau gigs I've been to, this one tops the lot.  

Lau Unplugged, Kings Place, London

A gig being run as part of Kings Place's Nature Unwrapped series, and no surprise that Lau were one of the chosen acts, given the number of their tunes that have been inspired by a sense of place.

It also meant an unusual support act, sonic but not musical.  Chris Watson, artist in residence at KP, had made nighttime recordings of a beach on The Wash, in eastern England, and compressed them into a 25 minute sound sequence.  He spent 10 minutes explaining what we were about to hear - thousands upon thousands of birds feeding on a fast diminishing beach as the tide came in leading to their sudden mass departure - and left us to it, lights dimmed to stimulate the aural presence.  An interesting experience, both relaxing and almost scary at times.  It's probably just me being weird, and a reflection of having watched way too many Scandinoir dramas, but I kept thinking of being trapped in a dark basement and having to work out where I was from the sounds outside!  And don't get me started on Hitchcock movies...

'Lau Unplugged' suggests a return to a decade ago, when the trio first appeared with just the basics of accordion, fiddle, guitar and Drever's voice.  But this is Lau and there's no looking back, they are always looking to progress and advance, both musically and performance wise.  While those acoustic basics were there, they were augmented by a light sprinkling of electronica ("almost unplugged" as Martin put it), and have added a whole new dimension to their performance.  More of which in a moment.

Anyone who has read these pages in the past will know I am a near-evangelical Lau fan, as evidenced in posts like this and this and this and this amongst others.  So can we take it as read that the standard of musicianship and singing and arrangements and musical imagination is as high as ever?  The opening number swiftly established all that, with  empathetic ensemble playing where the melody constantly switched from instrument to instrument.   Because I want to concentrate on what makes this show different to all their previous efforts.

There's always been a visual element to Lau.  In the earliest days it was mostly concern for Martin Green as, in his more excitable moments, it appeared increasingly likely that he and chair were going to part company.  The introduction of various electronic gadgets brought movement of a different kind as they tended to demands of these new friends, culminating in Macbeth's witches gathering round the sonic cauldron they named Morag.  And then there have been acoustic sets with all three gathered around one mike.

To 'visual' we must now add 'theatrical'.  After some shorter opening numbers the band launched into what turned into a continuous piece of almost 45 minutes, working through identifiable fragments from the back catalogue and into newer material.  In doing so they made full use of the stage, moving from the seats on the raised platform into all corners, moving mike stands, tending to the giant cassette player and full of surprises.  There was a wonderful comedy sequence involving 2 arm-waving musicians, 3 mikes and 4 gadgets made from coffee cups held together by gaffer tape.  Chaplin would have been proud.  A stunning achievement.

To end the show the band invited Watson back on to join them.  He played a recording of the natural sounds of the Cromarty landscape as background to Gallowhill, one of Lau's oldest tunes.  Hauntingly beautiful.

And after that there's only one question - what's next?

Lau, Queens Hall

Regular readers will already be aware of my views on Lau - I'm an unreconstructed fan and have been for ten years.  But that does mean I go to the gig with high expectations, and they still have to be met each time.

They were.  The first set was largely given over to old favourites, and it was good to hear some choices from the back catalogue, like Unquiet Grave, that I haven't heard live for a long time.  As ever the segues are clever and surprising, the musicianship of a high standard, and old favourites have been given fresh arrangements.

The second half was largely given over to new tunes and songs from the forthcoming (fifth) studio album, due out in February. Pushing in new directions, the album looks to feature a high number of songs, and electronic cleverness.  Imaginative backing sounds included mewling kittens and a flock of venetian blinds taking off (or so it seemed), a wine glass acting as bell, all integrated into complex soundscapes.  Morag, the demanding goddess of digital sounds, featured of course.

The night ended on the ever-moving, and sadly so relevant, Ghosts.  Superb.

Lau, Queens Hall

Do you remember the first time you heard a piece of music and wondered why it had been written just for you, so immediate and personal was the impact it made?  It's only happened to me twice, and the most recent of those was at my first Lau gig, now almost a decade ago.  Since that time the trio have grown together to become one of the leading names in the folk world, with a reputation for innovation and imagination that few can match.

No matter how often you've seen them, Lau will continue to surprise, and this home town concert was no exception.  With no support act this was a pure Lau affair.  In the first set most of the stage was screened off, and the group assembled around one omni-directional mike to deliver an acoustic set.  This was something I'd been hoping to see for the last couple of years, a stripped back performance with just the three instruments - accordion, guitar and fiddle - and Kris Drever's vocals.  It was a reminder that behind all the electronic cleverness that's become their trademark there are three exceptionally gifted musicians, steeped in traditional music and intuitively feeding off each other's abilities.  Watching them felt like falling in love again.

After the interval they returned to their now more familiar setting - a spaghetti trail of cabling linking pedal boxes, amps, mikes and some of their own wacky creations.  Only at a Lau gig will you see a fiddle being played with two bows whilst strapped to what appeared to be a remnant from a Victorian coatstand, or a window frame gone wrong turned into a strange electronic harp.  Who but Martin Green would create music by pulling on what looked like a bit of string?!

But it's the music itself that matters most and Lau continue to deliver.  Fans would recognise the tunes and songs drawn from their four studio albums, but each one had some new twist to the arrangement and/or instrumentation, and there were some intriguing segues.  Horizontigo morphing into Far From Portland was especially impressive.  And the wonderful and haunting Ghosts remains ever relevant in promoting understanding of the plight of immigrants.

In between there's plenty of humour, and they take a delight in winding each other up, but it's very clear just how much they enjoy working with and off each other.  The set ended with the trio once more coming to the fore and performing acoustically, this time to lead the hall in a rendition of Hamish Henderson's Freedom Come A' Ye.  Musically, artistically, politically, Lau remain as significant and original as ever.  As as superb a live act as any.  Simply glorious.

Aidan O'Rourke, Spiegeltent, George Square

A gig of two contrasting sets.

Support came from Sarah Hayes, best known as a member of Admiral Fallow, here performing solo, just voice and keyboard.  While her playing is beautifully fluid, the arrangements were kept simply to allow the vocals to shine through.  Hayes has a charming warmth to her voice, and great clarity of expression.  Important when the lyrics are so crucial to the performance.  A mix of traditional ballads and contemporary songs, the emphasis was on story telling and there were a few dark tales in the set.

I liked Sarah's introductions to each song, providing context for the stories and reasons why her own interest had been sparked.  It's a nice way to create an intimacy with her audience and adds to the richness of the individual pieces.

Aidan O'Rourke, famed as a member of the magnificent trio Lau, builds his pictures using sounds, not words.  The opening number was a solo piece, just him, fiddle and sampling box.  Building up a carefully cadenced stack from his strings he proceeded to create an atmospheric acoustic wall that echoed and faded and grew around us.

Which set the tone for the rest of the evening.  Joined on stage by the excellent Graeme Stephen on guitar and John Blease on drums, together they played some very recent O'Rourke compositions, plus one which he'd had commissioned for last year's Commonwealth Games.  The latter was probably the only point in the set that could be said to have anything conventionally recognisable as melody and rhythm.

The newer numbers are all about creating soundscapes, building up a density of noises over which sudden riffs appear, surprising directions are taken, unpredictable beats occur.  There were times when each member of the trio appeared to be working to a different score, only for them to come back together and the individual departures made sense again.  It's about as far removed from pop music as you could imagine and all the better for it.

In counterpoint to the intensity of the music, O'Rourke's gentle demeanor introduced something of his thinking when he'd been composing, and provided a decently amusing tale from his recent experiences.  Just an ordinary guy, but a remarkable music creator.