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James Yorkston, London, Queen Elizabeth Hall

October 10, 2012 Gig, Reviews No Comments

By Robert Freeman

September 24, 2012

Permanently becaptacled James Yorkston writes interesting and strange songs that weave the personal with the anecdotal, oral tradition*, and so-called ‘tall tales.’ Yorkston is a product of his environment, fashioning beautiful pop music out of the landscape of the sea, the mist and the tides. As a live act he succeeds in balancing the sombre and personal with an irreverence and humour that is truly endearing.

Yorkston has been known to wrong-foot interviewers by claiming roots in Scottish punk (pre-Fence) but to be fair watching him live one is reminded of the kind of gestures and onstage presence of a much more aggressive artist. Ditching support band The Atheletes due to ‘unsavoury reasons’ (awkward), Yorkston is supported tonight by live stalwarts and co-recorders (Emma, Sarah and John ‘with the big teeth’). Although down on the old Queen Liz tonight, the band acts as a harness to his ramshackle, folk(ish) back catalogue. Drums are beat-perfect with scalpel precision, the harmonies float around the hall and a violin rasps and scrapes against Yorkston’s delicate vocals. When he’s not nodding back and forth, guitar in hand, Yorkston walks around like a happy cat, treading back and forth and bobbing up and down on his heels.

Despite at times seeming to act as a disparate bunch, eyes clouding, staring at the floor and jamming (if one can refer to a violin/cello combo as ‘jamming’**) at different speeds, the band’s reins are never loosened. Each instrument dances round the other, and it is partly this mixture of chord and dischord, fast/slow, up/down that is so well suited to Yorkston and his canon (six albums and a decade in, we can call it a ‘canon’).

It’s not the Hebridean stories from the sea (“your cat [...] climbed up and slept on my chest, she rose and she fell with my breathing like a sea bird riding a wave”) that causes the sniffles from the audience though, and Emma Smith’s violin soaring over Yorkston’s delicate voice and careful finger-picking, he could be singing about a three for two offer in the Co-Op and there’d still be tears***. We are treated to several bangers from the previous albums – an acoustic ‘Steady As She Goes’, ‘Us Late Travellers’ and a breathy (sinister) rendition of ‘Tortoise Regrets Hare’. The band finish where he began with a cracking rendition of ‘Moving Up Country’, before exiting stage left.

* Don’t call him ‘folk,’ though. He’ll deck you.
** One can.
*** ‘Woozy with a 2-4-1 four-pack of Blackthorn’? Argh. Help.

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