Intimate invitation
Beth Orton and her acoustic ensemble return stateside
Variety Playhouse, Nov. 10 --“Imagine you’re around a campfire, just you and you and you and you,” said English singer/songwriter/comedown queen Beth Orton to a crowded house as she opened the first show on her eight-date acoustic American tour.
It was acoustic, all right, but not in the typical solo-guitar-strummer sense. In fact, Orton was joined by a second guitarist, cellist and upright bassist who alternated on percussion.
Despite the ensemble, Orton still came across with the warmth and intimacy expected by the hundreds of reverent fans who turned out to see her. The size of the audience was a tribute to Orton’s cult appeal, since another, far more famous female songwriter, Tori Amos, was also in town the same night. But rather than offering another version of Amos’ flighty eccentric, Orton came across as a friendly folkie with a penchant for the plaintive. Dressed in a striped scoop-neck sweater and hip-hugging grey trousers, and bathed in soft red light, the 6-foot-tall singer/guitarist appeared relaxed, returning to the road after a couple years off due to illness.
After an opening set by local songwriter Ian Webber (of the Tender Idols), Orton opened her smoldering “fireside” performance with “Someone’s Daughter,” off her debut full-length, Trailer Park. Though her entire performance was free of the electronic beats that have accompanied some of her songs on record, it was easy to hear where Orton associates such as William Orbit and the Chemical Brothers would roll the rhythms. The effect of relying on prickly steel guitar, cello drones and walking bass, however, gave the melancholic material a more lulling lilt.
While at first Orton’s voice seemed to have a slightly nervous quiver, by the second song, “Paris Train” (from her latest, Daybreaker), she was throwing back her head, breathily belting. Orton’s husky warbles effortlessly bounded along as her band swayed to the easy pace. When not playing the guitar during “Ted’s Waltz,” Orton held the microphone like a lover’s cheek or a fleeting hope, her other hand hooked in her waistband.
Its sweep widened by effects, the cello more than compensated for any electronic treatments added on record. Combined with the lope of the bass, songs including “Anywhere” and “Pass in Time” took on an appropriately gloomy creep. Much of the set felt like a stroll in fading evening light--brisk yet brooding. The group came closest to a gallop when, the bassist straddling and tapping on a hollow box, they performed Daybreaker’s “Carmella.”
Despite a cascading cello and guitar that was almost tear-jerking at times, Orton herself was prone to entertaining and upbeat stage patter. In between performances of “Mount Washington,” “God Song” and “This One’s Gonna Bruise” (written with Ryan Adams), she joked about traveling for a total of 12 hours thanks to the three hours she spent trying to get out of Hartsfield, and how her introduction to Southern hospitality involved an invitation to join in a threesome while drinking at the hotel bar.
After closing the set with Central Reservation’s “Stolen Car,” Orton and the band returned for a four-song encore. Running through “Concrete Sky,” “Sweetest Decline” and the deeply intoning “She Cries Your Name,” Orton ended with the affable yearning of “Central Reservation,” finally shutting up a handful in the balcony that had been loudly requesting it for much too long.
Despite the set’s overcast overtones, the music provided an invigorating release. Thankfully, there was no talk of fairies or other such fancies at the Variety Playhouse. But there was plenty of charm and enchantment.