Owen Pallett, London Union Chapel

January 26, 2010

After seeing him under his former alias Final Fantasy at the very same venue in the summer of 2009, hopes are riding high in the sky for this show. In that night back yonder in May 2009, he shot from an artist I was distantly fascinated by to an untouchable beacon of everything that live music should provide. Skip forward forward a few months and it’s little wonder that I’m left evermore aghast at the purpose of my existence on exiting the Victorian Gothic Union Chapel’s doors…

Save a set’s worth of whine, self-depreciating knowingness and covers of Elvis Presley and Gary Wilson from Lightspeed Champion, the whole show feels like an exhuberant show-off of talent, with Pallett joined by certainly the most special guests I’ve ever seen. Nico Muhly and Sam Amidon precede Pallett with what they moniker a ‘variety show’, and are even joined by Beth Orton. Before I launch into a series of inevitable spaff, it’s advisable to take a glance at those names swiftly followed up by a deep breath.

Nico Muhly and Sam Amidon’s Variety Hour sees them joined by Beth Orton and Owen Pallett himself at points, though mostly using their hour as a lecture in greatness. Rhythms stutter as the ideas sweep from electronica through stuttering stop-start passages, sections of dense violin and even banjo. The lead alternates and the sound is truly beautiful, with florid merriment emanating from Muhly’s piano.

Sam Amidon – photo by Anika Mottershaw

It’s curious as to whether I should mention how academic, how much of an education, this set feels; if I’m acknowledging it as that, it’s so as to state that the cleverness can only stem from classical instrumentation. That’s not the case. I’m dumbstruck by this set as it was only confirmed on the morning of tonight, and I haven’t had the time to fully familiarise myself with their back catalogues – that’s what I’m telling myself. It’s not a realisation that the guitar band set-up feels entirely purposeless, nor that anything I thought I possessed in the way of unique talent and skill has just evaporated.  It’s also not the fact that without a beard to stroke, I don’t quite know how to express my sycophantic amazement at this support slot.

Now, Owen Pallett – where I can be knowledgeable again, yet still a paler version of my pre-gig self. His world is magical, inspirational and his talent – like Muhly and Amidon’s – is breathtaking.  Virtuosic sections are acted out, fantastical passages paraded at the audience; it’s a warped world. Pizzicato strings wrestle with harsh, high-range shrill discord. Operatic pop with such richly-hued vocals. It’s a grander experience than I’d imagine a Joanna Newsom show to be. The new material from Heartland sounds evermore pressing with the addition of electric bass and occasionally, some catchy hooks. His voice still sounds grand and entrancing, as much on ‘He Poos Clouds’ as the newer songs.

Owen Pallett – photo by Anika Mottershaw

Jokes of him refusing requests and only playing “the hits” level a fair qualm, Pallett switched on but never self-obsessed enough to eschew the audience’s sheer adoration. To watch such talent and emotion poured into a set is an event, and it’s only fitting that we’re seated. The loops are impeccable, and the songs on Heartland induce gawps. He was sensible, fallible in 2009 with the new material and now appears bold and as brash as can be.

In the context, that isn’t arrogant – he starts irrecoverably coughing in ‘Flare Gun’, before stopping for some water and resuming with his all-playing, all-dancing chum Thomas Gill.

A foot pedal is pressed, an eyelid blinks and another layer is added to the mix. But seeing Pallett live is greater than reconstruction; it’s voyeurism. ‘Midnight Directives’ from Heartland is terrifying, the “I’m never gonna give it to you/we’re never gonna give it to you” pattern and Pallett’s threatening dissonance making itself at home in the Union Chapel. The esoteric ‘Lewis Takes Off His Shirt’ is comforting as a retort, and older favourites like ‘The Lamb Sells Condos’ and ‘Flare Gun’ are everything their recorded counterparts offer with an added face.

No related posts.