James Arden checks out the garage rockers latest album.
The Christian rock band from Brighton bring religion to the masses.
Recipe for modern R'n'B album: liberal helpings of guest rappers and an overdose of sexual euphemisms.
Cries, laughs, screams, whispers, gasps, snaps, scratches, ricochets, taps, clicks and slaps: These are just a few sounds from the diverse spectrum Laura Moody weaves into her songs. Labelled as ‘contemporary, experimental and avant-pop’, the best way to describe Laura is a singer-songwriter who does a kind of cello and voice remix of her own song live.
It all came about when Laura’s attempt to teach herself the guitar well enough to sing her own songs never really took off, or at least what she could do with a guitar didn’t satisfy her. Instead she decided to build on her already established talent and love for the cello. She describes locking herself away for hours in her flat (much to the amusement, bewilderment, and probably aggravation of her neighbours) teaching herself not just to sing and play at the same time, but to building on her fascination with all the pseudo-electronic and beat-box effects she can get out of her cello and her voice. She then uses these recreate the effect of a pop track by simultaneously using more parts of her voice and cello that you might have thought humanly possible, let alone sounding good.So her songs eventually become a kind of live remix born out of the fully fledged song she has in her head. What was so striking was that the concept seems a bit too abstract to work, but in reality, while being mesmerizingly impressive, it seemed strangely natural.
Laura’s collaboration with all kinds of artists - Physical Theatre String Ensemble on ‘Lost Music of the Gaels Ensemble’ and Killa-Kella elsewhere - are what flavours her music. She seems to have soaked up fragments of these diverse influences, binding them together with her own fascination with her cello, and putting it all across with swagger, passion and wit. ‘Oh Mother’ (check it out at her MySpace) is a good example of her use of these influences, mimicking electronic sounds using techniques like bounding the wooden part of her bow on the string (ricochet bowing for those of you in the know!), pizzicato, and even hitting her throat with her bow whilst singing. I kid you not!
The results of her hours and hours of practice were both entertaining and incredibly expressive both to watch and listen to. An officially 'untrained' singer, she has a beautiful voice: often warm and gravely – like a richer version of Eva Cassidy – but capable of reaching vibrating pingy soprano heights with ease. The physicality of what she does with her cello and her style of expression means it becomes as theatrical or dancelike as it is musical.
As a soloist performer, Laura works with all kinds of exciting people, including Judith Ring, another of York’s rising stars . Laura performed a piece called ‘Up to My F-holes’ which they collaborated on, a witty little piece written especially for her for live cello and tape that builds on her fascination with all the less conventional ways of playing. Following this contemporary number was the haunting ‘Jangelma’ (‘Teach me’) by Senegalese Mola Sylla, a song which deals with the imposing of French identity upon African children in the French colonies. Adam de la Cour’s ‘Tic’ was perhaps a little harder to digest unless, like me, you’re secretly attracted to all things eccentric. While her winning charisma made the piece far less alien than they might have been, it just was the kind of piece that makes alot more sense when you have the programme notes in front of you, whereas the beauty of Laura’s own stuff is it stands alone completely.
There were moments (like the bow-hitting-throat thing I mentioned above) when the bizarreness beat me (and everyone else in the room); on at least one occasion the urge to laugh out loud was just too great and most of us gave in to giggles. I felt guilty at the time – I know how terrifying being on stage alone can be – but in hindsight, it was precisely the fact that it managed to provoke this kind of involuntary response that made Laura Moody’s set so thrilling. It’s so rare to find people who are able to be creative without inhibition. Even in the privacy of my own room I’ll admit I probably wouldn’t have the freedom of spirit to let myself go enough to come up with some of the things I saw that night. Much as we like to think of ourselves as liberated and open minded, in truth a lot of us still cringe at anything that isn’t expressed with what we consider to be a basic level of decorum.
Anything that’s too physical or visceral or uninhibited reminds us of the childlike or primitive and tends to make us cringe: panting, gasping, doing frankly bizarre things like singing a high pitched note while hitting your throat with a bow or making unrefined ‘noises’ with your instrument are things that most of us would never dream of doing in public, but it was precisely this childlike free spirit that made Laura’s performance magic. The unashamed quirkiness captures the hyperactive child she was (and probably still is) which, combined with her formidable talent, makes for an exhilarating, immensely expressive experience. Laura remained completely un-phased (or at least seemed to) reacting to peoples giggles with a smile.
Having had time to digest my reaction I realised that this shows that experimental doesn’t have to mean pretentious. At the end of the day people go to the theatre, concerts and galleries to because they enjoy it, not because they think they ought to, to broaden their aesthetic thinking. So Laura Moody’s playful and mischievous approach to her unusual style was charming putting you at ease to soak up the true depth of her music and her performance..
Intrigued? Laura Moody is appearing at Bush Hall, London on the 3rd of April, and Harrison Bar, Kings Cross on the 6th of April. Keep your eyes peeled for the debut album she’s currently recording, but in the mean time there’s always myspace.
You must log in to submit a comment.