Reviewed onThursday November 24
Live, Bree Tranter’s vocals are just as bruised and woozy as on record. She exudes a beaten air, delicate but dense, with an often elusive whisper that blurs words at the edges. Soft, trawling guitar riffs or slow-moving keyboard chords are usually at the centre of her songs. In some places they are all there is, but then echoes open up boundless spaces around her, other instruments waft in and her voice multiples itself. The music is both intimate and telling – Tranter writes what she knows and allows enough room for those around to see, yet she reserves the most important and contemplative parts for herself.
As the lights dimmed at the sold-out and cosy confines of Oxford Circus, openers Alby and friends emerged. Their funky basslines were a constant, with tinges of ’70s-era slow R&B licking at the heels of smooth, sultry blues. The collective oozed with soul, completely in sync and at ease.
A cream-coloured tapestry hung from the ceiling as monochromatic water visuals washed over the drapes, creating a textural space to inhabit. Eyes closed, Tranter therein approached the mic. A weaving flute line hovered over a scant of soft synth. Overcoming a minor technical issue, Tranter stepped out of the shadows to ease into ‘The Dancer (Drunken Monster)’ and ‘Deja-Vu’. Each song followed a similar structure, starting low and lax, progressing slowly into a subliminal swelling of bass and percussive notes before retreating abruptly.
Tranter’s backing band included Matt Corby and Rohin Jones (The Middle East), and they carried the music to new levels. In the most impressive moments, the songs reached great heights, with emphasis on dynamics and the juxtaposition of the powerful with the soft, making each tone of every track stand out.
‘Tuesday Fresh Cuts’ had the crowd truly grooving over its dreamlike quality, while crooner ‘Under The Sun’ sounded like it was smeared with Tranter’s own tears.
Indeed, Tranter was at her minimal best at the bleakest end of the spectrum. ‘Another Night On Earth’ saw her lament loss and pain – and rather than slumping over a glass of whisky, a song like this one allows for fresh wounds to breathe.
