Diane Cluck/Emmy The Great
The Luminaire, London, 30th July 2006
The Luminaire plays host to two of the hottest singer-songwriter tickets
tonight, although both would probably balk at that label.
Before Emmy The Great arrives the audience, mostly sat cross-legged
on the floor (as all good folk audiences should be) crowds forwards,
walking on their butt cheeks. And as she takes to the stage you can
understand the buzz. She is a marketing man’s wet dream, stunning
looks, immaculately turned out, and brandishing a guitar like a petition.
But most importantly, she can write a song. Her acoustic vignettes fizz
with dark humour and sarcasm, reminiscent of Dar Williams without the
propensity for cloyingness. In other venues, the joy of Emmy The Great’s
lyrics could be lost, but in the Luminaire’s hands lines like
“Every time I think of you, I have to go to the toilet, can’t
tell if this is love or a stomach disorder”, get the rise they
deserve.
The folk with punk ethics is endearing enough. But it all comes too
easy to Emmy The Great, the simple guitar lines and backing from two
chaps on xylophone/violin/backing vocal and electric guitar/bass/uke
duties don’t seem a match for her soaring Tanya Donelly style
vocals and barbed lyrics. What is disarmingly charming at first begins
to grate towards the end, at times even ventures into tweeness. Emmy
The Great need to be stretched before the music equals the charisma
of the act.
Diane Cluck’s 2005 album Oh Vanille was voted #2 in Mojo’s
Underground Album of the Year poll, and it’s a work of extreme
beauty. Fairytales wrought from guitar and multilayered vocals, that
conjure an image of a bohemian kook. She takes to the stage, slight,
clad in jeans and lumberjack shirt, looking almost nervy.
Twitchy and birdlike, Cluck renders her songs with surprising confidence.
Listening to the record I imagine her face contorted in pained emotion.
However, live she seems to expend no effort. With her mouth barely open,
she reaches levels of expression and clarity of which other artists
could but dream.
Cluck lets the songs speak for themselves. Although she asks for the
lights to be turned down enabling her to see the audience, she barely
interacts with us outside of the performance. But this is not unwelcome.
The Luminaire is held spellbound by exotic imagery, intricately crafted
songs, and Cluck’s operatic Nu-Yoik brogue.
As she nears the end of her set, she worries about people catching the
Silverlink out of Kilburn, but by now the audience doesn’t care
and calls her back for an encore “Are you sure? I mean I could
go on all night”. Unfortunately she doesn’t, but she does
end with a rendition of Monte Carlo, a song that contains the immortal
line “The most breathtaking sight I have seen in a while is the
sight of Frenchmen fucking under the stars”. Well, for now, until
I make it to the Mediterranean principality, Diane Cluck at the Luminaire
will have to do.
Peter Hayward
Photo of Emmy The Great taken from www.emmythegreat.com
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