MUSIC

St George’s Bristol (Fri 3 Feb)

Can you have a game of three halves? It’s a Zen question that chimes nicely with the methodical intricacies of Three Cane Whale’s opening set. This evening will run from their “don’t wake the baby” restraint to the “take that, suckers!” nihilism of Gannets’ impro workout, via Tamco’s “hey man!” spacious cool. The common ground is leftfield individuality and sheer musicianship, of course, and Alex Vann’s sparkling mandolin is an early wonder as he flies around an intricate arpeggio straight from Bach but repeating like Reich. Locked in with Paul Bradley’s clipped and understated guitar, the effect is a riveting torrent down which Pete Judge’s laconic muted trumpet floats like a lost leaf. Three Cane Whale’s music is a sequence of such memorable pictures eloquently caught, whether of Victorian children falling from a bridge or a bat eating a songbird. Their acoustic tone is perfect, albeit edged slightly by amplification, and capable of catching even the gossamer sound of Vann’s bowed psaltery echoing from the far end of a dark cloister.

Shorn of drums and keyboard, the trio version of Tamco take the brave decision to see what happens (rather than simply getting guitarist Neil Smith to crank it up). In the restrained ambience of St George’s it’s a good call that leaves Smith, bassist Jim Barr and, especially, Tammy Payne’s vocals very exposed. That works to advantage in ‘Henry Lee’, a trad folk song gaining beatnik cool from unflagging bass and a scratchy undertow of guitar sonics, and equally suits ‘She Will Come’ with its subverted blues-boogie guitar line. There’s no doubt Tammy’s vocal assurance can hold the tune over the sketchiest of accompaniments, but the neo-tango ‘Territorial Din’ feels the lack of those keyboards.

After science and art, headliners Gannets bring chaos. With Guillemots frontman Fyfe Dangerfield at the keyboards, these are birds of a deliberately different feather and it shows at once. Alex Ward and Chris Cundy trade squalls on their various clarinets, with Dominic Lash making thoughtful interjections on bass and Steve Noble stirring and scattering behind the drumkit. Things rise and fall as they improvise their way forward, Dangerfield interjecting something grandly anthemic, but things are rarely left to settle. At one point the piano launches into impressive frenzy, an encrypted Errol Garner fast-forwarded while drums and bass cluster around for a powerful trio moment passed on to Ward’s provocative sax before dwindling into squeaky clatter. It’s all classic impro stuff – practically a trad form of its own – and there’s an inevitable trickle of people out the door throughout. The majority remain, however, and are treated to an increasingly electronic encore whose grinding Krautrock undertones lift the spirits and are still echoing when the lights go up. (Tony Benjamin)

Copyright Tony Benjamin 2012