Live Review
Florence & The Machine @ Riverstage, 18 November 2015
One of my favourite music-related lyrics of all time is David Berman of the Silver Jews' line, "All my favourite singers couldn't sing". It so perfectly and succinctly summarises an observation that has been made countless times since "singers" like Lou Reed started getting deified: you don't have to be a great singer to effectively communicate emotion. The three bands I've reviewed so far for 4zzz - The Fall, the Brian Jonestown Massacre and SixFtHick - certainly fall into this category, and I thoroughly enjoyed each of those. But to witness someone like Florence who truly can sing, is a special thing. She has a staggering voice and she sure communicates a whole lot of emotion with it.
But first up was Sydney's Jack Ladder and the Dreamlanders. From where I was sitting, halfway up the Riverstage hill, it almost could have been Nick Cave, in terms of vocal style, mannerisms and dress sense. It is unfair to compare a fairly recent songwriter with one of the all-time greats, but when you wear your influences so boldly on your tailored suit sleeve, you're really inviting the comparison. Some of JLATD's songs have a slightly off-putting electronic throb, but Ladder's pleasing baritone and the professionalism of the band (who could be more descriptively named the Not Bad Seeds) usually make up for it. 2015 single 'To Keep & To Be Kept', is a good song with a solid melody and likely converted a few fans of Florence before the band left the stage.
It became abundantly clear to me in the first few songs of the band's set that Florence – this red-headed woman from south London – may be among the closest figures in contemporary music to a genuine '70s-style rock star. Florence writes the sorts of songs that require a 12-piece band, including five back-up singers, (three of which also play horns) to recreate live. She bounds around the stage in a bright white jumpsuit, waving her mane of flaming red hair. She elicits squeals of delight from the audience just by saying the name of the city we're in. I bet a few people dressed up as Florence for Halloween this year. The Machine has turned out to be a far more prophetic name for the giant operation that surrounds her than she possibly could have predicted when she chose that name.
The presentation of her most recent album, with a classic black and white portrait and the band name dropped leaving just her name in big letters, feels like an attempt to join the ranks of mononymous superstars like Prince or Madonna. Her songs induce frequent spontaneous arrhythmic clapping from the audience, including at inopportune moments like during a beautifully spare arrangement of 'Cosmic Love' with just a harp, acoustic guitar, and a few plinking piano notes.
An early highlight arrived in the form of 'Third Eye' from her most recent album How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, before which she asked everyone to put their phones away. It's a great song, and a perfect demonstration of what Florence is capable of when she focusses on the song rather than 'please-let-me-entertain-you'-style prancing around the stage.
The last song of her main set was her banner song, 'Dog Days Are Over', which isn't the worst song to be saddled with singing for the rest of your life - that's what happens when you knock it out of the park on the opening track of your debut album. The burden of repeating 'Dog Days' to stadiums of adoring fans night after night doesn't appear to be weighing too heavily on Florence, judging by the exuberant rendition she treated us to at the Riverstage.
Florence and the band returned to the stage to offer a rendition of 'Mother', the final song on How Big, followed by 'Drumming Song' from Lungs. Her closing with the merely decent 'Drumming Song' illustrates that she doesn't yet have very many great songs, the only thing standing between this colossal talented person and achieving the greatness she's clearly shooting for.
The title of her most recent album, How Big, How, Blue, How Beautiful could just as easily describe Florence's voice and the melodies on which she unleashes it. I find that listening to her voice for an extended period, either live or on record, can start to feel like an assault. It must be difficult to show restraint when you have a weapon like that at your disposal. "I can't keep calm, I can't keep still," she sings on 'Caught'. But when she does just that; when she allows herself to just stand with a microphone and deliver a song: how big, how blue, how beautiful.
- Joel Lohman.