Lisa Mitchell @ Birmingham Academy 3, 8th March 2010
‘All the world loves lovers. All the world loves (young) lovers in love,’ sang Prefab Sprout. Presumably in anticipation of this charming crowd where everyone is just so damn nice and polite. Born in the UK but living in Australia, Lisa Mitchell has carved a considerable name for herself for one so young (nineteen) with her muse being variously described as ‘Teen Pop/Candy-coated Folk Pop…with a dark heart’. No Florence raging against her washing machine or Lady Gaga in her sci-fi scrapyard outfits here, thank you. With Lisa Mitchell, and her subtle band, demure is definitely de rigueur. She’s mid-way through a thirteen date UK tour celebrating her latest album, ‘Neapolitan Dreams’. It would be so easy to savage this fragile muse with dismissive cynicism given that, sometimes, Mitchell’s vocal phrasing and diction comes preciously close to being twee and affected (for my part, this became evident during her cover of Dire Straits, Romeo & Juliet, where melody was sacrificed for husky ambiance). However, her coy diction and body postures evoke a disarming, sometimes pleading vulnerability. And if there were the slightest whiff of artifice or contrivance in this then she’d have broken the magic spell. So, it’s not in spite of these attributes, but because of them, that she can hold an audience spellbound for 65 minutes. Against all my cynical, misanthropic conditioning I’m drawn in by her sincerity and romantic charm. It’s nearly Spring and what better way to warm our collective hearts than with a set of lullaby, moon-beamed romantic fluff and consciousness.
Mitchell’s plaintive vocals have been likened to 60s hippie heroine, Melanie, together with contemporary alt-divas, Joanne Newsom and Regina Spektor. Peer references like those at only nineteen should be worn with pride. She’s a most proficient guitarist and, as we hear later with her solo number, ‘Love Letter’, a pianist of some regard. It was a thirteen song set so we’ll dip in here and there to savour a representative canvas. Oh, by the way, she is ravenously attractive and it was notable that a number of audience girlfriends, who clearly adored her, were also keeping a close eye on their partners’ rapt engagement for exactly the same reason.
The set kick-drummed off with ‘So Jealous’ featuring some swampy slide guitar; the band, through out the set very much complementing Mitchell’s presence rather than intruding. ‘Neapolitan (Dream)’ was a feel-good funky, spontaneous clap-along number. ‘Coin Laundry’ raising an appreciative recognition from the crowd features on Mitchell’s website, it’s a wash-gazing introspective metaphor and should you so desire you can load it up as a ringtone! Mentioned before, ‘Love Letter’, was a sparse, minor key ballad that distinguished Mitchell’s evolving talent in terms of texture, dynamic and maturity. Best one in the set for me. The hush between songs is such that the only sound is the tinkling hum of the bar chillers. ‘Red Wine Lips’ was a whistle-along, giddy-up ditty appealing more for its form than substance. It went down admirably as was intended. The encore closed with ‘Oh Hark’ another song featuring on her website. The stops were pulled out for this one and it had a teasingly up-beat homage to Happy Mondays ‘Step On’. I confess to having thoroughly enjoyed myself with these songs of innocence and experience.
A mention of support act The Boy Who Trapped The Sun. A mellow guitar fellow with a girl on cello whose dreaming vignettes from the wind-swept shore of the Isle of Lewis were poignant and embracing.
Review – John Kenedy
Photo – Katja Ogrin