Natalie Merchant at The Apollo
Natalie Merchant – Hammersmith Apollo, London – 22 May 2010
Words and Photo’s by Imelda Michalczyk
It’s many years since I last saw Natalie Merchant perform. Back then, she was still with her band 10,000 Maniacs, who produced thoughtful, catchy ‘alternative’ pop-rock-folk music and never seemed quite as high profile in the UK as they were in their homeland of the US. Now a respected solo artist, she has in her time, collaborated
with myriad well known acts, including Billy Bragg, Michael Stipe and Peter Gabriel.
Tonight, ever one to subvert expectations and stereotypes, Natalie divides the show into two very different parts. With no support act, she tentatively takes to the stage at an early hour, accompanied by three musicians, giving her the backing of an acoustic guitar, bass and cello. “Are you ready,” she asks meaningfully “for the journey?”.
Natalie proceeds to explain the idea behind “Leave Your Sleep”, her first album in seven years – a collection of songs based on poems by a range of international writers. It’s made clear that this evening is dedicated to showcasing these songs, though in a stripped down way, since, as she points out, there were many more musicians on the recording.
Behind her a screen lights up, as it will do throughout the show, with images of the relevant poet. Natalie takes time to introduce each song, including the poignant “If No One Ever Marries Me”, the haunting “Indian Names”and the teasing lilt of “The Janitor’s Boy”. Whilst the stop and start of song and spoken/visual presentation hardly makes for a energetic concert, especially given the fairly gentle delivery and pace of most of the songs, the actual information about the poets and their lives and inspirations is fascinating. Tales of thwarted bohemian romances, literary works only just saved from being wiped out forever, treacherous journeys, forgotten language, illness and death. Natalie is frequently able to make the audience laugh and I’m sure many people leave with added impetus to read more of the various poets’ work. I certainly have one or two I’m intrigued to investigate.
However, it’s not for everyone – later on the tube home I sit next to four concert-goers who, despite marvelling at Natalie’s astounding voice, loudly complained that they hadn’t expected to be “paying for a lecture on poetry”. Despite this, the crowd reaction is generally extremely positive, if rather respectful.
The highlight from the new songs has to be the deep southern blues of “The Peppery Man”, based on a poem by 19th century poet Arthur Macy, whose work was only published after his death, by his wife. This is one of the songs that really demonstrates the depth and quality of her voice and how much her range and subtlety seems to have developed since her early days of pop stardom.
As the main set of about an hour and a half draws to a close, the audience finally get to their feet after a quiet, seated and interesting concert and someone in the front row hands her a bouquet of white flowers, adding to the appreciative but slightly formal air to proceedings.
However, part two is an entirely different affair. An hour long double encore becomes a celebration that takes us on a journey through her past. Launching into the familiar strains of “Tell Yourself” from her “Motherland” album, she then takes requests including the beautiful “San Andreas Fault” and two 10,000 Maniacs tracks: “Don’t Talk” (which her guitarist struggles to remember at first – I do like to see a band brave enough to play something they didn’t expect to) and “These Are Days”.
Natalie attacks each song with increasing energy and seems to relax and enjoy herself, dancing wildly, spinning, waving her arms and often talking and joking between verses. By the time the uplifting, life-affirming “Kind And Generous” comes around there is a real sense of joy spreading throughout the venue and everyone is standing and dancing.
Despite telling us how she is very sensitive not to overstay her welcome, because, apparently, the NME once wrote that she “played too long” at a London show, she returns for one last sing-along. Ending with “Weeping Pilgrim” from her 2003 album of modern and traditional folk songs “The House Carpenter’s Daughter”, Natalie suddenly waves goodbye and runs off stage leaving her band to finish up. As the lights go up, many satisfied (if sometimes bemused) fans to walk out into the still warm springtime air, knowing that we might not get another glimpse of this contradictory, quirky, serious, untamed spirit for some time.
