Review: boci, The Jam Jar – ‘The ability to turn pain into art is a truly special skill’

Never before have I been to a show in Bristol where it has been so busy that I need to go through two bouncers before getting to the guy on the door.

Solomon O.B is about to take to the stage, combining tap dance with poetry, his dancing creating rhythms over which his words flow. At the sound desk is Bristol staple Francis Forbes-Edwards of Music Ape Studios who effortlessly mixes vocals with the different sounds of the shoes. Any fear of a nine piece band being too much for the space is assuaged.

Next up to support is ÂELLIN. Fronted by Siân Magill, this isn’t the standard post-punk fare of moshing and spilled pints that is the Bristol norm; the crowd is subdued, engaged. Siân’s smooth vocals and masterful jazz guitar playing set the scene for the main act. Emotion and musical excellence are at the forefront of the show.

Entering the stage like Kate Bush’s long lost niece, shrouded by a black veil, twisting and twirling in an abstract dance, boci is instantly iconic. A glance at the set list shows the first track to be a drone but nothing penned by boci can be so monotonous.

As the veil is lifted, threads of silver chains woven into her two-tone multilayered hair are revealed giving the impression of a priestess celebrating a long forgotten and newly awoken goddess. boci as a solo performer is impressive, but support from a nine piece band adds a new dimension to her work.

Throughout the set they aren’t afraid of stripping back their sound, as easily shining on a quiet solo acoustic track, (I Feel Like a Bird), as they are with full backing.

A particular highlight is their track Last Leaves, accompanied by harpist Emmy Broughton. They glance at each other, encouraging each other to keep the pace, the energy of the melodies flow between them, synchronistic, propelling the audience into a meditative soundworld.

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A similar partnership forms between boci and supporting violinist Miranda, the two allowing each other room to breathe and play sparsely, whilst equally creating complex interweaving harmonies and polyrhythms above mesmerising loops.

The standout supporting musician of the evening is Tom Campbell also known as UncleBoy. Having recorded and produced the album, he played an integral role in bringing the live renditions to full colour. They are at ease whilst switching between guitar, clarinet, and percussion.

My favourite track of boci’s is The Garden, an uplifting yet pensive folky number led by a characteristically boci-style guitar riff, decorated with synthesiszed shimmers, string reels and lush harmonies from backing singers Pearl Love and Maz MacNamara. I’ve said it before and I will say it again – this track needs a deep house remix. I can’t help but have a little dance.

boci dedicates the album to Viktor Panko, her partner and producer who passed away in 2020. Her eyes shine as she proclaims that the album reflects his love and as she speaks the love is reflected back from the audience. The room is full of friends, family, and fans, all eager to see her succeed.

Ribbons of grief that run throughout the body of work, none so more than in Getting High. This old-time jazz style song, featuring swaying countermelodies from violin, clarinet and a beautifully sensitive Chet Baker-esque trumpet solo from Snazzback’s own Alfie Greives – explores self-medicating with “jazz cabbage” as a means of processing painful memories.

boci performed to a sold out crowd. 

The addition of a muted trumpet in the live rendition transforms the song from an acoustic lament to a film noir soundtrack. This sense of introspection is found in other tracks such as Golden Sky and (I feel like a bird) which, through a vulnerable lyrical focus, use nature as a grounding balm.

I’m surprised at how much sorrow can fit into one person who is so open and loving in character. Although overall the body of work gives the impression of a process of exhuming and letting go of sadness, as mentioned there are smiles and even moments of silliness.

boci announces her “last song” with air quotes and a sly smile, and plays herself out with a softer number. The crowd erupts in cheers and chants of one more song and, almost as if it was planned, each musician comes back on stage.

Here, the combination of drummer Jon Clark playing intricate 7/8 rhythms alongside a synergy of synth player Mike Hayes and bassist Liam O’Connel’s bassiest of basses form a cacophony of joyous noise. If this electronic-leaning sound is any hint of the direction boci’s music is headed, we are in for a treat.

Overall, I am still stunned by boci’s album launch. The ability to turn pain into art is a well known one but a special skill none the less. The room was full of support and familiarity, with a subset of the Bristol music scene all turning out to support boci in the culmination of a year’s worth of work.

Each musician was of the highest calibre and was given space to play whilst boci remained at the forefront of the sound, openly transmuting personal feeling into aural bliss.

All photos: Alex Wilson of Brass Hand Films’

Read next:

• Review: Modulus III, The Jam Jar
• Review: Electric Electric, The Jam Jar
• Review: Emily Magpie, Loco Klub – ‘It’s clear this gig is an intimate gift’

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