In the Forest with Kathryn Joseph

Kathryn Joseph - Kings Place 19th September 2018

There is something elemental about Kathryn Joseph. Of smouldering fires in the forest, of the breeze whispering in the leaves, of the dark peaty earth, the coiling knots of moss covered tree roots, the trickle of a brook, of large eyed nocturnal beasts, of bloody fairy tales full of love, wisdom and vengeance. The live performance, with the set crafted by Cryptic magnified this. A fractured mirrored landscape, spot lights and twisted organics, where the performer could be seen reflected in tiny details across the stage, it felt like neither night or day, but something in between, that special transient moment of sunrise or sunset captured in perpetuity. There was gravitas and theatre to her performance, occasionally pausing to stand, take a drink and gaze beyond, into the captivated faces below her. Her dress, specially designed by Marketa Kratochvilova for the tour added to the timeless fairy tale quality.

The album, From When I Wake the Want Is, which she played solo in its entirety, is an astonishing feat, a brilliant follow up to her first album, the award winning Bones You Have Thrown Me and Blood I’ve Spilled. The stripped down piano, the dark bass synths soaring, the heartbeat like percussion. And her fragile yet powerful vocals, sometimes allowed to bleed into the earth, into the background of the brilliant production (by Marcus Mackay), they come and go. It’s like she is moving around the fairy tale world she’s created, and we catch and hear glimpses of her as we carefully venture into the forest she commands. It's immersive, a story. Like Acteon when he stumbles upon the bathing Diana, the goddess of the hunt, it felt we were almost intruding on something so beautiful. Unlike Diana, she wasn’t vengeful and didn’t turn the audience into stags for us to be later consumed by our own dogs! (What a way to go though!)

Lyrically the album is both heart-breaking and uplifting. It feels dipped in love, blood, hope and sadness. It moves me. It’s inspiring. I’m listening to it for my writing. Kathryn Joseph is a treasure and a wonderfully kind, funny and generous friend to her fans. Go see her. Buy her albums!

“The way that your mouth covers my mouth
The way that you suck all the darkness out
The way that my mouth covers your mouth
The way that I swallow the darkness down”

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Valentine's with Out Lines

Last night, Debbie and myself had the privilege of seeing Out Lines live. I’ve seen Kathryn Joseph and her musical partner Marcus Mackay twice before, when we’ve been lucky enough to have them visit London from what I imagine is their hand chiselled ice palace somewhere in the Highlands. Coincidentally, I’ve seen James Graham twice too, as front man of the Twilight Sad, when they supported Mogwai in Brixton and The Cure in Lisbon. The latter was in the biggest indoor venue I’ve ever seen, when my little niece Katerina dragged me and my colleague SJ through the crowd almost right to the front.

I much prefer smaller venues though, it’s more intimate, you can get a closer connection to the band, and they are both very expressive performers, with Kathryn’s little feral side glances while playing the harmonium or keyboard, and James’ forays away from the mike to flail and gesture and clench his fists, like a fire and brimstone clergyman behind his lectern, warning us that the end days are nigh. They would make a great fighting duo and I’m sure they could kick the shit out of me if they so chose.

If the two of them are the outward manifestation of the band’s intensity, then the beating heart is Marcus, serenely going about his business behind them, his drumming driving the warm blood through the body of the band and his soaring analogue synth playing giving an unsettling but beautiful backdrop to the magnificence of Kathryn and James up front.

All of this was enhanced by the venue, I’d never been to The Islington before and it’s great, from the staff, the bar, to the venue room adjoining it. The walls were draped in what looked like red velvet curtains, the spotlights were predominately red, it was like we were guests in a womb or a ribcage of something alive, washed with red light, listening to the beating heart of our host and its blood surging through the body of the beast.

The performance was beautiful, chilling, heart wrenching and most of all brilliant. Between songs, the bond between the band members was joyous and sometimes hilariously bawdy, the rapport between them was obvious and it was a pleasure to join them on Valentine’s night.

Out Lines were brought together to listen to and then tell the stories of people who don’t always have a voice, via a Glasgow based community art project Platform. And the album, Conflats is a magnificent tribute to those people, covering loss, abuse, sorrow but all with a layer of hope. Our Beloved Dead sends a shiver down you with the chilling “I’ll take you down with me” repeated chorus dipped in barely contained rage and melancholy. And their ABBA cover of lay All your love on me is given a dark, devastatingly sad new lease of life.

We didn’t get to say hi to Kathryn this time as we had to dash for our train, but I’m looking forward to hers and Marcus’s new album! Who knows, might catch a gig in Scotland too. And The Twilight Sad’s new album is out too. All in all a lovely date night on Valentine’s. Thank you!

Kathryn Joseph, St Pancras Old Church

 

When I’m home alone I listen to the radio through the night, songs soak into me, some don’t rouse me, but others tug gently at my subconscious, imploring me to wake up and recognise something important. So it was with Kathryn Joseph’s “The Bird”, a little seed planted itself, I opened my eyes in the dark, fumbled for the light and waited for the DJ to tell me who was singing this starkly beautiful song. The Radio 6 DJ not only gave me the right spelling of Kathryn but also said she was playing at St Pancras Old Church, the home of the Hardy Tree, a venue I hadn’t visited before. I jotted quickly in my notebook and fell back into a deep sleep.

The next day I checked my book, to ensure it wasn’t some wistful dream, smiled, streamed the album and bought two tickets for the gig after checking my gig buddy and fellow blogger Rob could make it too. Had he not been able, I’d have probably gone on my own in anycase.

The album, Bones you have thrown me and blood I’ve spilled (available via her webpage) is a mournful and beautiful thing, full of gorgeous metaphor and observation on the unforgiving and indiscriminate pain that life can serve up to the innocent, to the young, to the weary. And of the sadness of those left behind, who endure the legacy of love and loss. It moves you and pulls you in.

It’s stripped down and acoustic arrangements with her piano and collaborator Marcus on drums/percussion is gentle, at times unsettling, emotional, at other times darkly soothing. You might think from this that Kathryn is perhaps a sombre ethereal presence, but as this fantastic article describes, she is gregarious in person, joyfully sweary and full of energy. You can’t help but grin and enjoy her company.

And in her social media interactions she is gracious and kind, she welcomes interaction which made me smile when I got a personal thank you email after I bought her limited edition single online! And I got a hug before the gig which was a lovely surprise!

Up against some incredible Scottish talent, and arguably the outsider choice for Scottish Album of the Year, she only went and won it, deservedly so. Virtual fist taps and chest bumps all round from her growing fan base!

After a great support act from the talented singer songwriter Yusuf Azak (and love this video with his song played over Goldie Hawn dancing!), Kathryn’s live performance was stunning in the intimate church venue, if you like early Tori Amos, Stina Nordestam, Sharon Van Etten or PJ Harvey’s White Chalk album, I think you’ll love Kathryn. As well as the reflective elements, there were fun moments too, her laugh when everyone politely waited to only crack open their tinnies between songs and the moment the church bells struck ten, and she joked that it was like a godlike intervention to censor the swear word in the lovely and sad song “The Crow”.

Another lovely touch was the free printed booklet of the lyrics for every gig attendee, the lyrics are presented thrown together, without punctuation, like memory, a jumble of themes, thoughts and pictures you need to unpick and interpret. Interspersed among the lyrics are photographs and artworks as well as images of Kathryn’s hand written prose, with annotations and edits. It’s a lovely keepsake from a beautiful evening.

If there was an artist I would want to wish beautiful things for it would be her. What a lovely evening. Thank you Kathryn.