The paradox at the heart of this remarkable evening is the joy amidst music of profound sadness. Characteristically endearing humour was evident in Sharon Van Etten's anecdotes, but there was also a striking playfulness in the band's interactions. It's so heartening to see such love between a group of people who've been on the road together for months. It's as if they've found a communion in performing songs each night, which parallels a religious community's comfort in the repetition of liturgy. In more mundane circumstances, an altercation between two audience members over talking during the performance might have punctured the harmony. Fortunately, Sharon silenced the pair with assertive wit, diffusing the conflict. Indeed, it was during Tarifa which followed that I found myself fighting back tears: it's surely one of SVE's most beautiful melodies. Then came one of the most touching songs from Tramp: Give Out, which explodes into painful melancholy.
I narrowly avoided repeating John Cambell's public display of emotion; the newsreader whom Sharon Van Etten surprised and moved to tears in New Zealand. My own feelings were of catharsis and delight combined. This 90 minute set in Leeds was utterly transporting, an experience so absorbing that writing 24 hours later, I realise that it's changed my perspective in the way that travel to a far off land can also do. Manchester Cathedral in November was an infinitely more atmospheric venue, but the intimacy of a club allowed a closer appreciation of Sharon's heartfelt facial expressions. At times, she seems to make eye contact with members of the audience, addressing some directly between songs. Her collaboration extends beyond the band into the crowd, in a way far more subtle than a sing or clap along. SVE's gigs stay within the comfort zone of an introvert, without feeling reserved.
We were treated to the title track of the I Don't Want to Let You Down EP to be released in June, but I suspect the highlight for many was a poignant solo acoustic song, performed in memory of her friend and fellow musician Mike Skinner, who died in September. Totally stripped back, it was a reminder of the subtlety and nuance of Sharon's musicianship. The more rousing Every Time The Sun Comes Up provided some relief from tragedy, and I appreciated Doug Keith's recreation of the spoken 'Yes she is' at the end. By this point the band had truly relaxed; Sharon even interjected 'except tonight' after the line 'it hurts too much to laugh about it' from the final encore Ask. Meanwhile, Heather Woods Broderick was barely managing to contain her laughter, which is of course an effective antidote to the heartbreak in the lyrics.
Happily, the venue's sound allowed Sharon's pure and powerful soprano to penetrate my heart unencumbered. But for all the band's technical accuracy, this is intuitive music making, responding flexibility to emotion, most evident in Heather harmonising. Alongside the subtlety, there's power and rhythmic drive in songs like Warsaw or Serpents (though the latter was sadly absent from the set, as it was at Manchester Cathedral). SVE allows a fuller release of emotional energy than Laura Marling, operating in a cultural context where such displays are more widely accepted. I hope that the inclusion of Tell Me on the upcoming EP is a sign she's considering the release of a live album: Are We There may have been my favourite release of 2014, but it's even more unbridled outside the studio. SVE's music itself is therapy, but the particular wisdom revealed by this tour is that allowing light and levity into your life can act as a defence against heartache and sadness.
- Afraid Of Nothing
- Taking Chances
- Warsaw
- Tarifa
- Give Out
- Break Me
- Tell Me
- I Don't Want To Let You Down
- For You (Sharon & Heather)
- Solo (in memory of Mike Skinner)
- Kevin's
- All Over Again
- Your Love Is Killing Me
- Every Time The Sun Comes Up
- Peace Signs
- Ask
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