Gig Chatter: Ladyhawke, Live in Dublin
-
Artist:
-
Album:
-
Track:Dusk 'Til Dawn
(photo: u.o.)
On the morning that the Irish media report our biggest jump in unemployment since 1967, a solitary thought occupies my mind: Is there any tickets left for the Ladyhawke gig?
See, I've just discovered that the New Zealander is bringing her special brand of 80s-tinged synthpop to the Auld Sod, and being a big fan I don't want to miss out. A quick internet search later, I'm surprised and delighted to find tickets still available. "Thank you, Jesus!" I shout. "Thank you for the recession!"
Alas, I shout too soon.
A few days later half my office is laid off. Somehow I survive the axe. The water cooler rumour is that I was working at home that day, so the bosses forgot about me.
Guess what? The recession didn't stop there. On the morning of the concert, it claimed 320 jobs at Jill's company.
"Did you get the sack?" I ask, on meeting my wife for pre gig drinks.
"No," Jill says. "It's mostly R&D."
"Poor nerds," I say. "They'll have to go live with their mothers."
"They already do," she replies.
I raise my drink. "Here's to us both dodging the bullet!"
"To dodging the bullet!"
We clink our expensive bottles of imported beer.
Others, of course, cannot afford to be so smug.
Before meeting Jill I'd attended "sacking drinks" for my former work mates. Most were putting on a brave face.
"I'll get a job soon," says one of the fallen women.
"Why so confident?" I ask.
"Interviewers love me because I'm very personable," she says. "And if that fails, I'll whip off my top."
"What if the interviewer is a woman?"
She shakes her head. "This is I.T."
While walking to the gig Jill has a financial meltdown of her own. "There's a few hundred quid missing from my account", she says, violently jerking her laser card from an ATM.
"Did it go on the rent?" I ask.
"Feck, that's it!" she says. "I hate when you make a budget for the month…"
"…and then a big surprise like the rent crops up," I say. "What had you budgeted for?"
"Essentials", she scowls. "Petrol, chocolate, and vodka."
The gig venue is The Academy, a recently renovated, midsized venue in downtown Dublin. We station ourselves on a raised platform to one side of the stage.
"Look at the crowd", says Jill. "How old do you think they are?"
"Hold on now, and I'll go ask them all," I say.
"They all look about seventeen!" she replies, outraged.
"No", I say. "There's an old bald guy with a beard over there."
"That's a wall mirror you're looking at."
I deign to ignore that remark, but she continues with her theme.
"It's all young girls and their gay friends."
"You might not be seventeen, but you're just as beautiful as ever," I say, with a sweet smile.
"Yeah, but I don't have a gay friend."
"Well, don't fucking look at me," I snort.
Ms Pip "Ladyhawke" Brown arrives on stage. I quickly realize that she's the polar opposite of my wife. Namely, shy and retiring. She quietly thanks the audience for braving the ice and snow, and then relays a brief story about her plane being diverted due to the bad weather. That's the sum total of her banter for the evening.
Normally I'm not bothered by a subdued artist. I think musicians shouldn't talk between gigs, never mind songs. But this surprises me. Ladyhawke writes such dynamic music that I expect her to have a little more personality on stage.
Later, all becomes clear. I read that Ladyhawke suffers from a strain of autism. My opinion changes in the light of that revelation. Ladyhawke is without doubt the loudest, most talkative autistic person I've ever come in contact with.
She launches into her set, backed by the Kings of Leon's biggest fans, if their clothing is anything to go by, that is. Her vocals are low in the mix, but an strong independent streak is apparent on her dazzling odes to freedom, Love Don't Live Here, Paris Is Burning, and Another Runaway.
Jill's never heard a Ladyhawke song before. "What do you think so far?" I ask.
"What age is yer woman?" she says, pointing at Ladyhawke.
"I'd say she's mid twenties", I sigh.
"Well, she looks fucking seventeen!" she replies, disgusted.
Yes, on the day when 320 people are laid off from her company, a solitary thought occupies my wife's mind: the sudden realization that she's no longer seventeen.
"Do you know how to get beyond feeling old?" I ask.
"Acceptance?"
"No, avoid everybody younger than you."
I turn back to Ladyhawke. She looks like someone. For a while I can't work it out, and then it hits me. With her waiflike figure, trademark head band, and long flowing blonde hair, she's a dead ringer for Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings. Only not as feminine. Oh, Ladyhawke is beautiful, but she has the touch of a tomboy about her. An image that's at odds with her lovelorn lyrics.
Of course, the kids around us couldn't give a toss about such abstractions. They're going crazy. During the rocking Dusk 'Til Dawn, I watch one girl bust every move in her repertoire, before the end of the first verse. Christ, love, save something for the rest of the song, I think.
When the band start into My Delirium, it's my turn to freak out. "This is my favorite song!" I gush.
"Oh, I see", says Jill, a thought sweeping across her face. "Is it all right if I go to London to meet [friend] Siobhan?"
"What, now?"
"Next month."
"Yeah, it's all right. But why tell me now?"
"'Cause you're happy."
"Women are sly," I conclude.
"No, we've just got good timing," she says.
The gig ends abruptly, like most gigs do when the artist only has the one album. As we file out the main doors, publicity girls hand out fliers to "the afterparty" (that is, a nearby indie disco). They conspicuously don't hand one to either of us.
"Oh, yes, we're too old for the afterparty!" says Jill, loudly. "We'd cramp everyone's style!"
"The music would grind to a halt if we walked in!" I shout, in mock outrage. The publicity girls don't know where to look. Although, it serves only to prove how right they were not to invite us.
At home, Jill listens to her new favorite band, Ladyhawke, while I check Wikipedia. It confirms (as much as Wiki can confirm anything) that the New Zealander was born in 1981.
"That means she's twenty-eight", I inform Jill. "Almost as old as you. How do you feel?"
My wife's delighted grin is all the answer I need.
...
Ladyhawke's self-titled debut LP is out now.
…
Postscript: The "whip off my top" lady? She got a new job within the week. Congratulations to her.
Comments (20)
Note to self: at interviews, if everything else fails, I'll whip off my top.
Jill knows what's important in life. My list would be fags, chocolate, and vodka. Close enough.
"Ladyhawke is without doubt the loudest, most talkative autistic person I've ever come in contact with" ahahahhahahah no you didn't!
EXCUSE ME, I was born in 1981, AND I AM 27 YEARS OLD. Not 28 yet. NOT YET.
"My list would be fags, chocolate, and vodka." You've just totally confused our American readers.
"EXCUSE ME, I was born in 1981, AND I AM 27 YEARS OLD. Not 28 yet. NOT YET." Sssh, don't tell Jill.
"Note to self: at interviews, if everything else fails, I'll whip off my top." Why wait until everything else fails? Whip it off while walking thru the door. I guarantee you'll (literally) stick out in their memories.
If only whipping off my top at job interviews had worked for me. A ll I got was an offer to be a male stripogram.
Note: Whipping off one's top must not work at all on phone interviews. Pity too, I bet my hairy chest would be quite the hit in IT. Hehe.
They might fancy a fag! :)
I'm still a bit age sensitive from Sunday. I was at the NME tour, and I think I was the oldest person in the mosh pit after my bf{another way to get beyond feeling old is to date someone older than you}.
I take it that if you're being interviewed by hipsters, lumberjack plaid nipple pasties will help.
And grats to both of you for proving to be recession-proof!
PS On Ladyhawke resemblances: http://mog.com/dshs70/blog/1206048
Although, it serves only to prove how right they were not to invite us.
hahaha, I am in stitches, STITCHES I tell you! I raise my imported beer glass, congrats on dodging bullets
@ Jonh - I'm sure your stripping music would be top notch.
@ Dale - There's always video phones. Prospective employers could zoom in on your hairs.
@ Anna - "The oldest person in the moshpit" Haha, there's a sitcom right there, tells us everything we need to know! Thanks, let's hope we all stay recession-proof, eh?
@ Rob - Didn't want to go anyway! (he says bitterly). Cheers!
"Do you know how to get beyond feeling old?" I ask.
"Acceptance?"
"No, avoid everybody younger than you." - Jill
I just got a webcam delivered in the mail this morning, I hooked the thing up turned it on, looked at my-38y.o.-self sitting there ...and turned it off. So much for the webcam.
Heh, heh. I can sympathize. Have you tried pulling stupid faces in your web cam to draw attention away from your oldness? Example on the left.
Saw her do a so-so set late last year. She came out afterwards to watch The Presets wearing the biggest pair of Deirdre Barlow specs I have ever seen...
i dont know even where to start.... from the part that Jill's essentials are "Petrol, chocolate, and vodka" to the loudest autistic person comment to the dead ringer for Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings ( i think his name was legolas)...but what it all boils down to is this, i mean, i really want to go drinking with you and jill sometime.
congrats on keeping keeping on.
@ Charley - Comments like that make me want to kiss your beautiful green head. Of course, you'll regret that drinking wish when we turn up at your house and home, and drink you out of it. ;)
@ Neill -
Ladyhawke watches The Presets (as recollected by Neill)
first of all, the record of your banter is, as ever, crystaline humor. who's coming to town next?
I had kind of written off LadyH after that first single, but "Delirium" is nice retro-fun, and I love the animation in the vid...plays to the title perfectly...not too mention my love of three note guitar solos...
Ta, Scot. I love that use of animation, too. Thought it was a clever, low budget way of getting her outside of the hotel room, and doing some cool stuff, like driving across the desert in a convertible. Reminds of another great low budget animation video, Aha's Take On Me.
Wow, just watched that again for the first time in years, and it really is a quite powerful little story.
oooh, i do love shy girls...
i've been entranced with Ladyhawke's voice since hearing "My Delirium" remixed by Toddla T. he's an electronic musician from Sheffield, England. So his remix has a clubtastic synth line and her voice gets an electro-echo at the end of verses, like "In-Sa-a-a-a--a-a-ane...".
The original tune was released with remixes by Fan Death, Kid Cola, Toddla T and others. You can listen or download the Toddla T + 2 more here:
http://mog.com/blog_post/content/413/226001
It's the quiet ones you have to watch.
Thanks for the link, I'll give it a listen.
"Yeah, it's all right. But why tell me now?"
"'Cause you're happy."
I love this technique!!! Good to see you two are enjoying 80's synthpop together (again...?) heh. ; )
(again...?)
Sadly, yes. :(
Oh, 'tis yourself! You've changed your name, like Puff Daddy. Good to see you back!