Laura Marling @ Symphony Hall, Birmingham – Tuesday 1st October 2013
Without addressing the audience, Nick Mulvey takes centre stage, picks up his guitar and starts finger picking whilst allowing his smooth vocals to wash over the growing audience. Mulvey was a founding member of the acclaimed Portico Quartet but returned to the guitar to work on his solo project, and as the set progresses it is clear what an accomplished guitarist he is. The second song, Nitrous, has received airplay on BBC 6Music and is a very pleasant number which pays homage to Olive’s You’re Not Alone. After this, we finally hear Nick speak and it is apparent that he is far more comfortable on stage than I had initially thought. However, he does mention the size and brilliant acoustics of the auditorium and takes a couple of photos of the audience despite admitting how not cool it is. The set continues with a cover of Gillian Welch’s, Look at Miss Ohio and the influence from his time in Cuba becomes clearer through his other songs. As his allotted half an hour draws to a close, I am left thinking that Mulvey is a decent singer songwriter who didn’t blow me away but his music is, for want of a better word, nice; saying that though, he had an impact on a number of the audience who felt it appropriate to give him a standing ovation.
At 9pm on the dot, Laura Marling enters and places herself between two acoustic guitars and behind a slightly Lemmy-esque microphone. She picks up a guitar and embarks on a 14 minute amalgamation of Take the Night Off and I Was an Eagle which fully demonstrates the magnificent tone to her voice and her competency as a guitarist. It also meant, for those who were late back to their seats, they missed a substantial chunk of her set as they were only allowed entry into the hall between songs. Considering she is only 23, Marling has achieved a tremendous amount including four solo albums, three of which have been nominated for the Mercury Music Prize, and for such a tender age she has the lyrical sensitivities of one much older. Throughout the set, her vocals remind me of Chrissie Hynde with less of raucous edge and more velvety in tone, and she uses her voice to enhance the drama of her guitar playing. Master Hunter receives rapturous applause before she has plucked a note and, as the evening goes on it becomes clear that there is a “one clap man” in the audience who gives a clap at the start of each song, which keeps the performer entertained.
Despite her lone petite frame, the venue and stage doesn’t swamp her and she effortlessly holds the attention of the near capacity audience which is a sign of a great artist. During the tuning in preparation for Ghosts, a string breaks on her guitar which frustrates Marling but leads her onto explaining her relationship with the two instruments she has on stage and her affection for the sound of a guitar being tuned, which is not something I appreciate and it takes place frequently during the set. Laura Marling emits a darkness, which was missing from Mulvey’s work, even when the music is suggesting a quaint ditty the lyrical content is taking it in a more sinister direction as demonstrated in Alas, I Cannot Swim. The set draws to a close with a cover version of Townes Van Zandt’s For the Sake of the Song and her final song Where Can I Go? Marling states adamantly that she doesn’t do encores and she barely stays on stage long enough to receive the applause that are abounding, before demurely returning from whence she came.
Bearing in mind what I have written about Laura Marling, I should have been truly engaged and overwhelmed by her work and performance, yet I found myself losing interest easily and struggling to want to listen to more than forty minutes. I cannot fully understand what was lacking from the show, possibly the inclusion of a band may have held my focus as it may have added a greater dynamic but I cannot be sure. I know for certain though that I was in the minority and the overwhelming response was utterly positive and rightly so.
Review by Toni Woodward
Photos by Steve Roche