aaamusic | On 16, Mar 2012

London, 13th March

 

I must confess I am a big Mark Lanegan fan, one of those who loved him way before Isobel Campbell stepped into the equation. I fell in love with his husky, warm voice and his lyrics, that always told interesting tales, filled with humanity, sadness and hope. I am one of those who think he should be much bigger than he is, but treasures the fact that he still plays relatively small venues, keeping it intimate. I read somewhere that he should be considered as the Johnny Cash of his generation, and I fully agree.

I am therefore extremely excited for the show at Shepherds Bush, spending weeks anticipating the night and refusing to check set lists from other shows online so not to spoil the surprise. Lanegan does not disappoint me.

The set starts with the brilliant The Gravediggers Song, which is also the Blues Funeral opening track; its pumping drums giving away the direction the night would take. The execution is perfect, Mark’s voice is in top form and I soon embrace the music and forget about everything else. Sleep With Me, Hit The City and Wedding Dress follow up. Lanegan digs in his back catalogue tonight, mixing his latest release with old favourites, including Screaming Trees’ Crawlspace and performing an excellent version of Leaving Trains’ Creeping Coastline of Lights, both met with excitement by the crowd, who respectfully worships Lanegan – there’s not talking, just respectful silence and occasional, whispered sing-along; everyone fully aware of the importance of the moment, everyone perhaps too scared to upset him, who still retains the allure of mystery, who still manages to frighten and excite the audience despite his lack of communication skills between songs (aside the occasional “thank you” and the band introduction) and his visible awkwardness.

The band is tight and executes to perfection the tracks, giving me shivers on Gray Goes Black, Quiver Syndrome, Ode To Sad Disco, St. Louis Elegy, Tiny Grain of Truth: everything is perfect, the solemnity of the event marries with the humanity of the man on stage.

The encore delights us with When Your Number Isn’t Up, Pendulum, Harborview Hospital (my favourite from Blues Funeral), whilst Methamphetamine Blues (my all times favourite) wraps up the set, bringing the night to an end, met by loud handclaps.

Lanegan leaves the stage without ceremonials, as per his usual custom, but you can see the happiness for the successful night. He will grant us another treat: a signing session by the merch stand – the queue was incredibly long, and Mark patiently spent time chatting to everyone and signing memorabilia. Despite his introvert nature, the man gave every inch of his soul to his audience today.

 

Alessia Matteoli

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Mark Lanegan, the obscure enlightenment of rock music lands at Shepherds Bush Empire.
The voice, over the concert, like a shadow, stretched, shortened and then disappeared from the stage.
Without significant words to the excited crowd of fans, but his splendid lyrics, just a few timid, distant – Thank you, the tall man is dark, hidden, almost frightened.

There aren’t light changes on stage, just pink and blue circles on the band. And it’s enough to feel drowned in the sequence of beautiful sounds and the deep smokey voice. All comes and dissolves.
Mark Lanegan is the black and white photograph of modern song writing. Intense beauty made of contrast and nuances of grey. A grey that at last goes black.

On stage he’s steady motionless. On his right hand side a Jonny Cash-styled lead guitarist dance on his chords in bizarre and adorable rock-and-roll fashion.
Mr. Lanegan doesn’t even look at his band (eventually he turned once at his drummer). He’s a sole soul breathing out the voice of his songs.

Since Bubblegum, following several cooperation and side projects, we had to wait 8 long years for his new album, Blue Funeral. The title speaks for itself.
Twelve tracks of rock, of blues and the new injections of synths and electronic beats. You will find gravediggers, blood, hospitals and a sad disco too.

Live, all these images grow, melt and evolve in our ears.
I particularly loved the performance in Grey Goes Black where the drums syncopated counter rhythms is a hypnotic tribal ritual wrapping tightly the soothing voice and, love it or hate it, the electronic shock of Ode to Sad Disco, when – undeniable – all the heads around me were grooving to the beats.
Unforgettable sadness during the amazing encore Harborview Hospital.

A concert that awoke us, opening our eyes on the forgotten grace of the perishing reality of life.
At the end of the show, Mr. Lanegan appeared at the merch stand to sign records and posters. He smiled gently, shyly, wearing backwards a baseball cap that somehow gave him something of human and even frivolity.

We know he’s in a new period of his life and for sure, seen this concert, that’s a wonderful thing.

Pietro Nastasi