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Regina Spektor - London, Bush Hall - 15.11.04 |
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I like words. Always have done. Words are better than sounds. Words are greater than crisps. Words are even better then the willowy strains produced from torturing next doors Siamese cat with a rusty nail and shovel. It wasn’t me Mrs. Barrington, I swear. Yet sometimes I find words are just not enough.
I’ve run out of ‘consonants and vowels’ for Ms. Spektor. I’ve never seen so much talent whisked into a single human being. An unbelievable ivory tinkler, an understated guitar player and a majestic stick and stolen stool hitter (stop with the technical). But lyrically nobody I have heard in recent times can come even close to her. Maybe it was the eerie Bush Hall acoustics or the flaming bladder problem inherited from my ‘uncle’ but I believe I heard songs about Queen Victoria ('Virgin Queen'), somebody next door ‘fucking to my song’ and finally a non-whiney decent ironic account of America ('UH-merica'). My bar is raised so high now if I ever have to listen to another whinging ‘EMO’ lyric again I’m going to torture who ever wrote it with Barry Manilow songs, even though at least he had a sense of fucking TALENT about him.
People of all ages and races came to appreciate her. Dads and children, people basically on their deathbeds, middle aged hippies and me. Her naivety is so beautiful you wonder if it is just an act when that voice engulfs your ears, especially when you think she’s on stage without the hint of a backing band. Her stage presence is so intense that her voice becomes another instrument, sometimes becoming drums, another few backing singers and even one of those orgasmic sex noises. Remember them children! Songs from Soviet Kitsch were played ('Carbon Monoxide', Poor Little RichBoy' and 'The Ghost of Corporate Future') but most were unreleased ‘fan’tracks maybe creeping towards a new album including the cries of"cleavage" in ‘Summer in the City’ and a particulary funny keyboard sampling opener called ‘Dance Anthem from the 80’s.’
Never have I smiled at a gig so much and looked around and saw people in awe with "natural joy" tattooed across their mostly middle class faces. She even played with a cut finger and drank whiskey like a hardcore version of The Peej! Even ‘Samson’ off ‘Songs’ was played on request! I’d advise you to look her up, but on second thoughts I’m selfish and would rather she's appreciated properly.
Some call her 'quirky' I call her just plain genius.
P.S Oh yeah and The Satellites were good also.
Matt Gilbert |