Live review: Versus - Found, eagleowl, Oates Field, The Wee Rogue, Debutant

Published on Monday 25 January 2010 16:24

Thursday 21 January The Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh

On-stage hook-ups can have spectacularly varied results. From The Last Waltz to Band Aid to all those carefully brokered festival duets masquerading as spontaneous 'happenings', there have been good, bad and painful examples. But in its short stint Edinburgh's Versus night has got the concept just about right: thoughtful curation, proper rehearsals, mutual respect and minimum ego.

But tonight in a busy Voodoo Rooms ballroom we aren't plunged head first into a multi-band spectacle, oh no. Instead the artists perform separate mini-sets as a gentle introduction to the daring experimentation to follow. And it doesn't come much gentler than eagleowl. With the darkened room almost at capacity, it takes a few moments before most attendees notice that the gig is underway, with the Edinburgh band's brooding post-folk (c.f. every article ever written about them) making a quiet, undramatic entrance. But Bart Owl gradually pulls focus stage-ward with his transatlantic vocals and understated but purposeful guitar strumming, backed by Clarissa Cheong on double bass.

Sourced from the Under the Radar blog

Alan Oates of Come in Tokyo makes his solo debut as Oates Field next - although he starts this maiden gig unceremoniously, crouched down at the side of the stage where he tinkers with a tattered synth and loop pedals. It all comes together when he steps up and stomps out a rhythm out on the bass drum, adding direction to his ragged folk rock. A seasoned live musician with seemingly scant concern for the occasion, it feels as if you've walked in on a private rehearsal in his living room.

There's no red carpet in sight for tonight's headliners, Bafta winners Found, but they follow Oates without a hint of grand pretentions, dutifully adding their electro-fringed, funk-flecked fare to the night's rarefied menu.

After only one initial song they vacate the spotlight for the evening's first special guest, The Wee Rogue. Reminding this writer of Mr Tumnus for a weird moment, the skinny, goatee'd Jamie O'Connor then locates himself nearer 60s America than Narnia with his finger-picked guitar and far-sighted delivery of a single "love song".

A cover of eagleowl's 'MF' delivered with relish by Oates Field follows, before Found return with a longer exposition of their assured folktronica. Ziggy Campbell pronounces his sabre-sharp lyrics with evident pleasure, while Kev Sim and Tommy Perman forge a torrent of drenched static, zinging FX and chugging bass. For a trio they emit a surprisingly complex, utterly composed sound.

There's an unintentional interval before special guest number two, which Oates fills with a spot of improv comedy, and it's to Phillip Quirie's credit that he manages to shrug off Oates' playful jibes about his spaghetti junction of pedals and hooded jumper as he sets up his gear. Once he gets going, Meursault member Quirie, here tonight as Debutant, quickly draws the room deep into his shimmering, stormy realm. It's his second effort, 'Thirst', that emerges as a highlight, not just from his brief set but the whole evening.

From here on in the 'versus' clause comes into full effect, with eagleowl, Found and Oates Field massing on stage as a kind of shambling supergroup, their mission to find new perspectives in each other's songs. For the most part they achieve this; each musician eyeing one other intently, studying the shifts and pauses and showing the kind of cohesion that must have required real preparation. The sedate pace of the eagleowl material benefits from Found's box of digital tricks, and they consciously alternate between styles, from three-minute crescendos to American radio rock to segments of unrestrained jamming.

But with so many cooks crowding over the broth pot, at times it does go off the boil. There are at least two songs which fall flat, prompting the less attentive in the audience to restart their (no doubt essential) conversations.

Despite the downturn, the last song of the night, a version of eagleowl's normally undulating 'Blanket' (but this time driven by a thumping beat straight from the subwoofer of your local boy racer) builds and builds to a magnificent climax, as if to reaffirm that, despite the risks involved, the pay-off on offer with such boundary-pushing is undoubtedly worthwhile.

Whoever they choose for the next Versus will have high standards to uphold.

Photos: Julia Stryj