While a less familiar audience may clutch their pearls, balk, laugh or perhaps even ungratefully ask for a refund at such rare moments of calamity, perhaps this largely beautiful, sometimes organized, often batshit chaos is the Tricky experience of legend.
Always in the dark
Many, many years ago on late night British TV, a film crew documented an early tour of Tricky‘s. I vividly recall the awkwardly intriguing, dark footage of his band and entourage, trying to make sense of events as they unfolded over each night during the film.
It was around the time of his iconic 1995 debut solo album and absolute trip-hop masterclass, Maxinquaye, when Martina Topley-Bird and Alison Goldfrapp first cut their teeth on stage, taking turns as his signature guest chanteuse under the only dim light permitted on the stage, as the band lurked in the back, barely visible. Tricky himself, shuffling around in the dark, often hiding behind (around or even in) the drum kit or PA stacks, and occasionally joining in with the odd mumble, bar or occasional yelp down the mic. Often with his back to the audience. Often not actually on stage at all. Always in the dark.
The memory of this documentary was playing in my mind as the audience took their seat for tonight’s relatively low-key gig at Warwick Arts Centre’s contemporary but cozy theatre, to kick off the UK dates of an extensive tour that has been back and forth around Europe and Russia since August, and continue through Spring next year.
Fall To Pieces ::
While technically this is the belated tour for the 2020 release of 14th solo album Fall To Pieces, that hasn’t stopped Tricky releasing an additional concept album this year under the eponymous alias of Lonely Guest (featuring material written aND produced by Tricky and performed by a host of impressive guest artists) which is very much present tonight thanks to the sharply dressed Marta Złakowska, tonight’s chanteuse who just so happens to be a lead vocalist on both projects.
An unadvertised support slot opened the evening though courtesy of Birmingham based, emerging rap artist, Lady Sanity, who strolls out onto the giant antique rug in front of Tricky’s minimal backline with caution. She soon overcame her visible nerves and disarmed any presumptions about tonight’s likely tone with charmingly engaging chatter between solid bars and impressive rhymes over her sharply produced hip-hop backing tracks, packed with natty samples and clever hooks.
While whoever was pressing play on her tracks off stage could have done with turning the volume up and the awkwardly bright, TED Talk-esque stage lights down, Sanity did an impressive job at goading a politely seated, non-target audience to sway along and join in on a few catchy choruses, and left us with plenty of charisma and talent to warrant checking her out online later.
Now, in arranging to write this piece it was made abundantly clear from the Arts Centre press office and duty venue staff that Tricky had specified that photography be strictly limited to the first three songs of his set only. Not uncommon practice for gigs at all. But tonight’s first preconception about a Tricky gig was never more realized than when it comes to trying to take photographs of him and his band live, in the dark. That, and the notion that Tricky probably really enjoys a bit of sly trolling toward anyone not on stage with him at his shows.
As the band quickly took their positions (in the dark) and launched into a striding opening instrumental (in the dark), with only a couple of vague silhouettes visible to even those not looking through a lens. Songs two and three were only then slightly illuminated by a dim amber spot light solely on Marta, while just five dim overhead lamps occasionally lifted shapes of the guitarist, drummer and cellist in a row behind her. The man himself (in the dark) in an oversized casual dark jacket and dark baggy jeans, occasionally visible when not lurking by the drum riser.
This is not a gig for untalented photographers like myself though, and after admitting defeat, applauding some expert trolling and returning back to my seat, the atmosphere washing around the intimate theatre and the fine balance of the band’s mix thanks to the exquisite sound-system soon swept throughout the theatre.
Surprisingly, the set unfolded into something of a career spanning ‘best of,’ with some genuinely welcome vintage inclusions. The drummer doubling on samples and programming to trigger the heavy, familiar trip-hop bass, samples and beats of Maxinquaye classic “Overcome,” and other intricate heavyweights such as “New Stole” (from 2018’s Ununiform) and “I’m Not Going” (from 2016’s Skilled Mechanic), while Marta slid effortlessly into the songs of singers that preceded her, as well as her certified own with the likes of Lonely Guest’s moody, minimal grinder, “Move Me,” sitting tall in amongst the archive.
An opportunity to experiment ::
However, a gentle chaos soon began to unravel with each song, and it was soon apparent that Tricky would use tonight as an opportunity to experiment with just how long a gig, setlist and encores should be on the fly this evening.
Thirty mins into an otherwise relatively smooth set, with just a couple of clunky silent transitions and Tricky onstage for at least 75% of it, he opts to cut one song dead in its tracks mid-way through. Sadly, that casualty being actual bona fied classic, “Hell Is Just Around The Corner,” which was going utterly splendidly until whatever unknown reason deemed otherwise, denying us of our cheeky Portishead fix. Then an awkward 90 second silence was spent shuffling around setlists printouts and giving the band gestures, before skipping straight to his final main-set piece. A swift “cheers” follows and he strolls off with the band following, while a baffled audience begin to wonder if a loose 40 minute set is worth the price of a full-price ticket these days.
The house lights remain optimistically dim though. Backstage muttering is audible and eventually Marta and the cellist emerge for a beautiful acoustic duet. A sincere applause is followed by further awkward few moments of silence as the rest of the band (sans Tricky) gingerly stroll back out and proceed to launch into a full blooded piece without him. The man himself does return half way through though, and joins in with his most audible and expressive turn of the night so far, spilling over into two further songs with an explosive, strobe-lit finale. Although we’ve barely made it past an entire hour, a show did manage to just come together. We’re thanked again, they leave. The house lights go up, we gather our coats. We leave.
Returning to the auditorium ::
Outside in the foyer, some queue for a browse over the merch, others check times for their local buses or book Ubers, most get their coats and scarves on, leave the building and head on their merry way home. However, five or so minutes later, a tannoy announcement requests for the audience to return to the auditorium and find their seats as the Tricky concert is about to continue. The shrug of confusion in the announcer’s voice matches those still lingering in the lobby. By the time enough of the remaining crowd begin to congregate back towards the theatre doors (in the dark), Tricky and band are already mid-way through another raucous, strobe-filled encore (in the dark). This one at least goes on for another 12-or-so minutes after we finally make it to the nearest free chair (in the dark).
By the time he’s done and gives another “cheers” and the stage clears, the house lights can’t seem to decide whether to go up or stay down. A DJ mix starts playing loudly and an hysterically awkward game of musical chairs ensues with bonus limbs flailing around as folk battle with whether to take coats off again or not. Eventually it is concluded that: Yes, the lights do go up and stay up. Yes, the music stops, and, yes, the audience can now go home. For all we know though, it is extremely likely that the same could have happened again. If it weren’t for him scheduled to play in Glasgow the next day, it’s entirely possible he could still be there pulling encores out of nowhere.
Despite walking into the Arts Centre with memories of stories just like these playing in my mind, nothing still prepares a whole audience for antics such as these. It is fair to say we are all used to live shows by established artists being such well oiled machines, with perhaps nothing more than the odd fluffed lyric, some microphone feedback or some audience heckling that needs a sharp knod to security, to spoil the flow of a typical live event. While the years of experience and general professionalism on stage doesn’t imply any kind of intentional self sabotage, it’s hard to believe any of the talent or crew could feel tonight would ever go down in history as a particularly smooth event.
Indeed, even the security were at a disadvantage, thanks to the dark, after failing to spot two audience members taking it upon themselves to get out of their seats, casually stroll over the unused riser in front of the stage and stand immediately next to Tricky’s mic and monitor for almost an entire song. Apparently even the band failed to spot the pair suddenly appearing centre stage, barely 2 meters away for an entire song either, before security puffed their chests, strolled over with their phone torches set to stun and had a stern word.
All this being said though, I can not honestly call this a bad or even remotely disappointing night. In fact, it was a fun and often rich reminder of what a magnificent bolt out of the blue trip hop was, and just how unpredictable it can be, even when knowingly pissing in the face of expectations. Even at the possible expense of your own reputation. Tricky certainly lived up to his, and then some.
All elements flowed as one ::
When the band were on the same page and all elements flowed as one, the atmosphere was palpable and the crystalline sound-system lifted every element to great heights. The setlist offered some genuinely classic treats, and barring a few nerves and uncertainty at ever moving goalposts, the band each got their moments to shine. Marta’s crystal-clear vocals very much simultaneously stealing thunder and holding proceedings together, until Tricky would shuffle on again to offer a reminder of just why he’s still so revered.
While a less familiar audience may clutch their pearls, balk, laugh or perhaps even ungratefully ask for a refund at such rare moments of calamity, perhaps this largely beautiful, sometimes organized, often batshit chaos is the Tricky experience of legend. It’s certainly an unforgettable one that would actually be worth comparing to perhaps a larger London or Manchester show or festival set—one day. Until then though, I suspect I’ll also regularly wonder what Lady Sanity, her entourage and indeed, perhaps her target audience would make of it all too.
Fall To Pieces is available on False Idols. [Release page | Bandcamp]
