Wildbirds & Peacedrums, London Union Chapel

Wildbirds & Peacedrums

September 10, 2009

The last twelve months or so have been kind to Wildbirds & Peacedrums. Since the release of their debut album Heartcore on Leaf, husband-wife duo Andreas Werliin and Mariam Wallentin have been touring fairly relentlessly and have still found time to record a superior follow-up, this year’s ballsier The Snake. It’s the touring that’s really paid off – in the time since I first saw them last June they’ve tightened their performance up to breaking point. As a result tonight’s Union Chapel show, an End of the Road warm-up in support of Loney, Dear, feels like a triumph.

The Union Chapel feels like a perfect setting for the duo’s stripped down, ritualistic take on the blues. Stained glass and curiously lit galleries provide an appropriate backdrop, and the hollow, natural acoustics of the space beautifully complement the slower, sparser numbers. Opener ‘Pony’ in particular is transformed: on record a delicate waif of a song, only given extra weight by the sheer physicality of Wallentin’s voice, tonight its harp-like string cascades echo from wall-to-wall and threaten to overwhelm her entirely. A segue into the tribal pounding of ‘There Is No Light’ is all the more grounding after such ethereal beginnings. It’s a set highlight tonight, Wallentin rattling in front of the mic as if plugged into the mains, hair forming a dense corona around her head, face lit by a shock of red lipstick.

The two are so obviously happy to be here it’s infectious. By the time Werliin kick starts ‘Doubt/Hope’ the crowd – and its appreciation – has visibly swelled. Yet for all its charms, there’s something missing in the venue’s translation of their most primal material tonight. Perhaps it’s the seated crowd; music this feral deserves physicality and tangible appreciation, something which can’t quite be delivered in a church, bobbing heads lined neatly in rows rather than thrashing in wild abandon.

Still, if there’s a slight mid-set loss in translation, the final fifteen minutes more than restore the opening salvo’s punch. The Snake’s closer ‘My Heart’ is sweetly poignant, steel pans gently marching as Wallentin delivers a multi-level tribute to her co-pilot, “Don’t run / Because I’m lost without your rhythm”. After The Snake’s release, a whole host of publications were climbing all over each other to shout “The Swedish White Stripes!”, a comparison that couldn’t be less accurate. Whilst Jack and Meg make a point of being emotionally and psychically aloof, both from the crowd and from each other, Wildbirds & Peacedrums succeed precisely because the bond between both players is so real as to be almost visible.

For the finale Wallentin steps to the front of the stage and sings the first two verses acapella into the chapel’s heavy air, before the two join on percussion for a final, crushing chorus, a bow and a “thanks”.

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