Secret Meeting score: 76
by Philip Moss
Since the release of their sophomore album, Capacity, just nine months ago, Big Thief have been on a steady incline. Released through the legendary independent Saddle Creek label, the record garnered unanimously positive critical acclaim, making many end of 2017 lists. And tonight, they returned to Manchester for the third time in thirteen months, having migrated from the Soup Kitchen (February 2017), via the Deaf Institute (November 2017), to a sell out show at Academy Two (this after the originally planned gig at Gorilla had sold so quickly that the promoter decided to upgrade to a bigger venue).
Opening with a new song, listed on the set list simply as RL, it gains a flutter of respectful applause, but its followed up with the title track from their debut album, Masterpiece, which translates brilliantly to a bigger room- its sing-a-long chorus very much embraced by the eager Manchester crowd. However, since the first time I saw the band at last summer’s Green Man Festival, guitarist, Buck Meek, has left the band to pursue a solo career, and his absence is instantly missed. His charismatic flair, unique interplay and overall effervescence would be near impossible to replace, but due to how vital Meek is to the band’s recorded sound, and in particular as the venues get bigger, the punch he brought to the live sound is also missed.
Although the decision to continue as a three piece, and not attempt to replace Meek, is a baffling one, Adrienne takes on guitar duties herself and does show a new found confidence on Shark Smile which – carrying a fizzing punk ethic – erupts. Where Meek’s playing was classy, hers is more primal and her tiny box amp unleashes a disjointed, distorted fuzz, while James Krivchenia’s drums carry a DIY garage rock spirit – as he seemingly, at times, makes it up as he he goes along- smashing away at his broken cymbals with a huge grin on his face.
In complete juxtaposition, Real Love’s fragility demands a respectful audience which, on the most part, it receives. The song really shows off her beautiful, delicate voice, before it grows again into a wig out, hair flailing moment from Lenker.
After a smattering of very impressive new songs, Lenker nervously mutters, ’Thanks for being here’. With her cheeks a dash of crimson, she states how ‘awesome’ it is that so many people to have turned up, and that she feels ‘we’re all connected’. ‘Some of these songs are new,’ she whispers. ‘You might have noticed. Or you might not. I hardly know anything about you.’
Paul misses the subtle nuances of the studio version, but this is more than made up for as Lenker’s voice carries a barrel load of emotional drama – and but for being thrown off by one idiot screaming prematurely before he song’s end (which prompts Lenker to momentarily diverge and encourage a collective ‘scream off’ – she delivers the lyrics as it she is last time she’ll ever sing them.
Mythological Beauty’s opening bars encourage the chap next to me to whisper to his friend, ‘This is their best song,’ which is isn’t, but it certainly feels like the ironic hit that never was with its hooky guitar part and sweet vocal melody – set against the melancholic anecdotal story of her childhood anguish when she almost accidentally died – ‘Blood gushing from my head, you held me in the backseat with a dishrag, soaking up blood with your eyes. I was just five and you were twenty-seven, praying don’t let my baby die’.
Undisputed highlights, Pretty Things and Hummingbirds are performed solo. Their sheer beauty create reverent moments- so much so that it almost feels wrong to be listening to her pouring her heart out as a form of entertainment. But entertaining Lenker and her band are. She, in particular, is an endearing, likeable anti-star. Having witnessed them grow so organically over the last year, one can only wonder where this very special band could be a year from now.
