If you can picture the introspective gloom of Willy Mason and the arresting intensity of Vic Chesnutt then you've probably got a good idea about Rodrigo Amarante. He is The Unblinking Man; fish-hooking the busy Brudenell with his unique take on charming melancholy.
His performance is only partially in English, yet he succeeds in sharing each defeated moment he hums and wails, even when singing in Portugese. The songs that come in English don’t come with a soul any less dour, as on The Ribbon he cries “Hell could only do you good/ you'll be where you should”. Yeah.
Then comes ‘Diamond Eyes’, seemingly the tale of a bird tied to his neck to remind him of the things he hasn’t done in life, casting a shadow over him. We’re already a nervous bunch, repeatedly softened up by his nonchalant stage banter and then tenderly smothered by his groaning heartbreak. The song begins to wind up, as he repeats the bird’s solemn advice, “”Find all that you love” he said, only with his eyes..”. The song finishes just as his winged reminder of disappointment has shrouded us. He looks out to us all, with a longing for answers and he hopes maybe we can help. With one hand, he takes hold of his baggy shirt, as creased as his performance is stressed and asks “Can you guys tell this shirt is pyjamas?”. Ten out of ten.
I can’t sugar coat this; Angel Olsen just became one of my all-time favourite live performers. It didn’t even take me the whole night to realise it, as her irresistible nack for taking the mountainous hollers of a 50’s Country star and washing it through a contemporary indie band had me pinned.
On her first visit to Leeds she has managed to pack The Brudenell wall-to-wall, leaving it surely only a few heads from capacity.
Lyrically, she seems to be in a constant shoving match with the world and her loved ones including her supposed closest family, as she shares on ‘White Fire’, “I heard my mother thinking me right back into my birth/ I laughed so loud inside myself it all began to hurt”. It's a dire seven minutes that felt twice as long, but we're happily drawn in and dragged down.
There are a few unmistakable hints of grunge, although few and far between, like the intro to 'High and Wild' and more so the whole of 'Forgiven/ Forgotten', where a formulaic indie headbanger gets pulled around by the lofty talons of Olsen. "There's one thing I fear/ Is knowing you're around/ so close but not near". The guitars are driving away but she's constantly trying to drag someone closer.
It’s not always doom with the gloom; no, every once in a while the doom comes with a snarky laugh. “Are you lonely too?/ Hi-Five, so am I” She declares in the most knowingly droll voice. Somehow in these moments of dirge there is an infinite amount of joy pounding from the sheer tenacity of that beautiful voice, forcing itself above the all the darkness that is apparently beating down.
Start with this video for Forgiven/Forgotten and keep going from there:
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