Laura McGarrigle is Gaze is Ghost. There are too many uses of “is” in that opening sentence but book-learning was never the forte at my Primary School. Rather, we learnt joined-up writing, how to colour between the lines and the importance of singing distinctly. The former has rarely served me well in the digital age, while the latter two are only reminders now that rules are made to be broken.
If you’ve drawn the outline of the average singer-songwriter then Gaze is Ghost is bursting out of all those lines with big dramatic watercolour sweeps with thick textures and deft strokes. The vocals are far from distinct, edging slightly on the Regina Spektor end of the spectrum but with a decent amount of Joni Mitchell in there for good measure. The songs are essentially ballads in their purest form, played with a delicate subtlety that may hint at some classical piano training but the sum of the sound is greater than all the parts. With two vocal microphones, piano and pedal board, the sounds are layered up. It’s almost orchestral in parts with that unique vocal style lending itself to everything from joy to heartache to the sound of gulls flocking over the intro to ‘Sea Song’.
Chicago’s Shannon Hayden maintains the nice and nautical theme with her opener ‘Angel Machine’ sounding like an old sea shanty in places. Out on a wave of sonic exploration, accompanied only by her cello, this is a tour de force; an instrument taken to the limit as a sampled vocal track signals the next piece’s introduction. Hayden’s no one-trick pony though and vocally she’s strong. The cello work, however, astounds. At times the riffs are heavy metal by nature if not in instrumentation and at others we could be forgiven thinking we’re listening to Ben Gibbard’s Postal Service without the blippy percussion or emo whine.
‘Blown Away’ sweeps in with the most accessible ‘pop’ sound of the evening but it too meanders through twists and turns. It’s music that lends itself to movie soundtracks though at times it’s mesmerising enough to watch Shannon work the cello, thumping her palm on the neck for percussive reverb, frenetically fingering up and down the fretboard as tracks reach their crescendo. With most tracks from her second record ‘Solid State Cello’
Indianapolis’ Jurkiewicz duo Lily and Madeleine are siblings, singers and songwriters. They’re distinctive in appearance and demeanour with Madeleine playing the lighthearted June Carter role while there’s more intensity in Lily’s delivery. With Cash family comparisons put aside, the sound is appropriately more traditional country/folk fayre. Opening with ‘In The Middle’ from last year’s ‘The Weight Of The Globe’
I’ve come a long way to sing despite my ad-libbing. I hope you’re listening. I hope you hear me.
‘And Tonight’
It’s true, Lily and Madeleine have come a long way, not just tonight but in the last few years and in particular since the release of ‘Fumes’
‘Rabbit’ has thus far been the big single from ‘Fumes’, a little more uptempo and allowing a little hint of rockier influences to creep in. Who didn’t grow up listening to Tom Petty and Springsteen after all? If the girls are worn out from their month long tour of Europe it doesn’t show. There’s an emotional farewell said to Shannon as she leaves the tour to return Stateside but not before draping some delicate mandolin tremolo over the perhaps aptly named ‘Tired’.
‘Back to the River’ and ‘Blue Blades’ close out the show. Lily on vocals and guitar, Madeleine stage right on vocals and keys and a silent crowd wrapped up in the moment out front. Madeleine praises the audience for a respectful quietness before rousing applause urges them back to the stage for one last call.
Madeleine takes the lead and rounds the night off with a Louisiana style lullaby, with a beautiful rendition of Phil Phillips’ ‘Sea of Love’. It’s a sweet note to leave on and as the elder Jurkiewicz croons “I want to tell you just how much I love you”, most of Belfast would probably return the compliment and wish a swift return across the sea some day.