General
Article 1
Article 2
Article 3
Article 4
Article 5
Article 6
Article 7
Article 8
Article 9
Dummy
Article 1
Article 2
Article 3
Article 4
Article 5
Article 6
Article 7
Article 8
Portishead (album)
Article 1
Article 2
Article 3
Article 4
Article 5
Article 6
Article 7
Article 8
Article 9
Article 10
Article 11
Live
Article 1
Article 2
Article 3
Article 4
Article 5
Article 6
Article 7
Article 8
Article 9
Article 10
Article 11
Article 12
Article 13
Article 14
Article 15
Article 16
Article 17
|
Portishead's New York Return A Qualified Success
Rocktropolis, July 25, 1997.
The 1994-95 success of Portishead's debut album, Dummy, was the
signal flare for American acceptance of the Bristol, England trip-
hop sound, which also claims Tricky and Massive Attack as part
of its scene. Thursday night (July 24), Portishead returned to
the U.S. for a packed show at New York's Roseland Ballroom, with
qualified success.
This grandiose affair, which showcased
Portishead's forthcoming eponymous album, was taped for an upcoming
home video. The band didn't play on the stage, but rather in the
center of the dance floor, giving the performance an intimate
"unplugged" feel. Complete with director's chairs, booms,
jibs, and a scurrying crew, the setting was technically impressive,
although it had its drawbacks: bright studio lights disrupted
the mood of the music; a couple of booms interfered with lines
of sight; there was an unexpected intermission while audio tapes
were changed; and one severe vocal mishap warranted a take two.
Sonically, however, the performance was a credit to Portishead's
fine musicianship, energetic arrangements and inspiring use of
the beat.
When singer Beth Gibbons' angelic vocals sit atop stark, electrifying
bursts of horns and haunting string textures, they're as dainty
as they are lusty. Accented with Geoff Barrow's squeaking old-
school scratching, Portishead's songs are bastions of post- modernism,
combining classical arrangements with electronica's cool beats.
And Thursday night, the duo redefined and heightened their sense
of gentility with the inclusion of an orchestra. It added refined
luxury to Barrow's spastic scratching and drum- machine rhythms,
beautifying -- though significantly altering -- Portishead's sound.
The richness provided by the orchestra
-- coupled with the room's makeshift studio sound -- made for
beautifully urbane, though quite unexpected music. A show shouldn't
mimic the album exactly, and Portishead's didn't. But while their
songs sounded musically identical, the shift was in the feel of
the songs, not the sound. By replacing harrowing dissonance with
fullness and warmth, the orchestra -- and similarly Gibbons' unaffected
vocals -- added opulence to the music, but in doing so forfeited
the eeriness found on the albums.
Joe D'Angelo
|