BETH ORTON
City Recital Hall, January 17

LOOKING back over my reviews of Beth Orton’s previous tours here in 2003, 2004 and 2006, I realised that some things are, to quote a wholly appropriate for the occasion Joni Mitchell, ”as constant as a Northern Star”.

Orton will look long and slightly ungainly on stage, awkward between songs but amusing in her self-deprecation as she stuffs up an intro or tunes, and then retunes, her guitar. Her voice will crack but never break, its imperfections not just part of her appeal but at the heart of songs of imperfect people who live very much in the here and now, not some mythical land.

Early stumblings and nervous mistakes will settle into a casual and comfortable atmosphere where we find ourselves halfway between living room and concert hall. And a song such as Sugar Boy will be achingly lovely and another like Central Reservation will be achingly desirous – the ache coming in the way Orton’s protagonist is always vulnerable but unafraid of risking it all again.

For all that, what has changed in the near six-year break since that last tour and album is as impressive and satisfying as the familiar comforts. The previously slightly stiff Conceived now feels like a song for a summer breeze: light and shimmery and skimming over the heat. And Shopping Trolley, also from 2006′s Comfort of Strangers, is shorn of its bustle and inherent assertiveness to reveal a more complex, nuanced response.

There is a brace of new songs which augurs well for the promised record. In one, she drops her voice and guitar tuning for a sound that has the pungent traces of old folk music but with the undercurrent of a world of not-so-old narcotics. In another, lines from a William Blake poem, the contrasting and complementary vocals of guest Sam Amidon and her own voice pitched higher, bring to mind the moments of Fotheringay four decades ago. Then, a song at the piano (”Steinway, I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy,” she joked) has the low-ember blues of Nina Simone.

Joni would be impressed and moved. We were.

Read more: http://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/entertainment/music/imperfect-songs-for-imperfect-people-20120118-1q6cv.html#ixzz1jwltKwzK

http://www.inthemix.com.au/events/reviews/52033/
Beth_Orton_City_Recital_Hall_Sydney_17012012

When Beth Orton arrives on stage at the City Recital Hall as part of this year’s Sydney Festival , the English singer-songwriter says “hi!” and quickly picks up an acoustic guitar. There’s no band behind her and no unnecessary fuss: it’ll just be her voice and a guitar for most of the night.

Opening with Heart Of Soul from the 2006 album Comfort of Strangers, her voice immediately fills the silent Recital Hall, as light reflects off her guitar and shines around the walls. With Beth’s voice alone being showcased alongside an acoustic guitar, without the violin and drums we’re used to hearing on the albums, a new vulnerability is brought to her music.

The atmosphere while she’s singing is subdued and it’s as though the audience are afraid of making any noise at all. That’s until Beth, mid-tuning, calls her guitar a bastard and then breaks a string. Hearing her swear at her guitar and despair over not having any more strings is an icebreaker and has us all giggling and calling out support. Beth plays the next few songs on the other acoustic guitar, including Safe In Your Arms which she almost forgets the title of, before delving into another new song on the piano.

During the new songs, Beth is clearly more confident and her voice stronger; it’s clear she’s excited to be playing them to us tonight. Sam Amidon joins her on stage for a couple of tracks before leaving her to continue the rest of the show solo.

Old hits Shopping Trolley and Stolen Car get the best reception of the night and Central Reservation, a track that’s dedicated to “all the people who’ve written to me and asked for it to be dedicated to them,” is another standout.

Beth plays her encore, walks off and despite the lights staying down, many people start to leave. But those patient enough to stay are rewarded, as she makes a surprise reappearance and plays one more song before she “buggers off”. Ooh Child from The Other Side of Daybreak is the last song of the night, played, unfortunately, to a half-empty theatre. It definitely a special treat to hear this song and perfectly conclude such a heartfelt show.

Beth Orton used the small space in the City Recital Hall to her advantage and managed to fill it with her voice, proving that her new songs are as beautiful as her old ones. Now, more than ever, we’ll all be waiting to hear them on a new album.

Just prior to her 2012 Sydney Festival stint, Beth warmed up with a three-song set at The Desk…including a brand-new track!

• Candles
• Central Reservation
• She Cries Your Name

The Untidy Desk series gives you a chance to see and hear some of the world’s top artists in the informal setting of the ABC Dig Music office. You can find the whole series here

Thanks to Bob Boilen and Co at NPR in the States for inspiring our efforts…make sure you check out their Tiny Desk series.

AWESOME!!

Anthony Saint James

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/arts/beth-orton-gets-straight-to-the-point/story-e6frg8n6-1226198265136

http://www.watoday.com.au/entertainment/about-town/beth-orton-at-the-quarry-20111117-1nktf.html

http://au.news.yahoo.com/thewest/entertainment/a/-/music/12375760/new-songs-have-a-long-gestation/

http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/specials/sydney-festival/beth-ortons-baby-steps/story-fn7fmlou-1226220033452

http://abcdigmusic.net.au/features/beth-orton-tickets-and-dinner-giveaway

http://www.theage.com.au/entertainment/music/return-of-the-heartbreak-queen-20111208-1ojri.html

If you are going – enjoy and don’t forget to post pictures, reviews and set lists for the rest of us

Beth Orton @ Old Museum Concert Hall, Brisbane
Old Museum Concert Hall, Brisbane QLD, Australia
Sunday – January 15, 2012
Cost/Tickets: oldmuseum
——————————————————————————–
Beth Orton @ City Recital Hall, Syndey
City Recital Hall, Sydney NSW, Australia
Tuesday – January 17, 2012
Cost/Tickets: sydneyfestival – ticketek 132 849
——————————————————————————–
Beth Orton @ City Recital Hall, Syndey
City Recital Hall, Sydney NSW, Australia
Wednesday – January 18, 2012
Cost/Tickets: sydneyfestival – ticketek 132 849
——————————————————————————–
Beth Orton @ Athenaeum Theatre, Melbourne
Athenaeum Theatre, Melbourne VIC, Australia
Friday – January 20, 2012
Cost/Tickets: Ticketek 132 849 or ticketek
——————————————————————————–
Beth Orton @ The Gov, Adelaide
The Gov, Adelaide SA, Australia
Saturday – January 21, 2012
Cost/Tickets: thegov 03 8340 0744 – moshtix 1300 GET TIX – venuetix 08 8225 8888
——————————————————————————–
Beth Orton @ Live At The Quarry, Perth
Live At The Quarry, Perth WA, Australia
Tuesday – January 24, 2012
Cost/Tickets: Ticketmaster 136 100 or ticketmaster
——————————————————————————–
Beth Orton @ Live At The Quarry, Perth
Live At The Quarry, Perth WA, Australia
Wednesday – January 25, 2012
Cost/Tickets: Ticketmaster 136 100 or ticketmaster

by Graeme Thomson http://www.theartsdesk.com/new-music/bert-jansch-1943-2011

 
The great folk guitarist Bert Jansch died early this morning, aged 67.

Whether as a prime mover in London’s 1960s folk scene, or as part of pioneering folk-jazzers Pentangle, or as a songwriter and solo artist, his influence on everyone from Paul Simon, Donovan, Led Zeppelin and Neil Young to, later, Johnny Marr, Graham Coxon and Beth Orton is simply immeasurable. Young compared Jansch’s impact on the possibilities of the acoustic guitar as comparable to that of Jimi Hendrix’s on the electric.
Right up until his illness (he died after a struggle with lung cancer) Jansch remained one of music’s relatively small band of genuine boundary pushers.

I interviewed him a couple of times, on both occasions – tellingly – to discuss the merits of other artists rather than his own considerable legacy. Lugubrious, taciturn, a little wary, Jansch was immune to self-aggrandisement and wasn’t much of a talker – or a singer, really, come to that – but get him onto music and musicians and he could be warm, generous and relatively expansive.

In January 2009 I caught up with him the day after his friend John Martyn died. He was, first and foremost, very giving and perceptive in his technical analysis of Martyn’s gifts as a musician and singer. “His guitar playing was such a winner,” he said, and he would know. “Very lazy and blues-ish, easy and quite laid back, never harsh or brittle. With John the singing and guitar playing came as a package. His voice was like another instrument, which was fantastic. Later he moved away from the acoustic guitar but the instrument doesn’t really make a difference – it doesn’t change the way you think about music. He wanted to embrace all different kinds of music, as much out of curiousity as anything else.”

Though the two differed dramatically in their styles, he could easily have been describing aspects of his own adventurousness: blues, folk, jazz, country, Middle Eastern scales, Jansch’s playing seemed to envelop them all without acknowledging a single boundary between genres or cultures. He was clearly cut up about Martyn’s death, but it was a personal sadness that he preferred not to share. He was more comfortable expressing his love and admiration through musical appreciation.

The other time we talked was a couple of years previously, in praise of the wonderful English folk singer Anne Briggs, who had disappeared to the Highlands in the 1970s and had rarely been seen since. The pair were old friends and collaborators from way back and Jansch had, gently, attempted periodically to bring her out of her retirement. “I’d be really over the moon if she started again,” he said. “A lot of people have been trying to coax her back into it. I gave her a mini disc player to record with, but she’s not very good with hi-tech. I probably should have given her a cassette player…”

He simply wanted, he said, to hear her sing again. It was his love of music that was so evident in these conversations, and that same love of music which was so evident in his own work. For all his dazzling technical virtuosity, his writing and playing flowed directly from the heart – which is why, perhaps, there wasn’t always much room left for mere words. Today, too, words seem singularly ineffective in capturing just how gifted he was. So let’s take a leaf from Bert’s book and concentrate on the music.