Review: Miranda Sex Garden, The Fleece – ‘It is thunderous mayhem’

Katherine Blake, lead singer and founder member of Miranda Sex Garden, stands centre stage.

Bathed in blue and red strobing lights, thunderous drums just about receding, the last echoes of feedback bouncing from the back wall, a squeal of violin slowly dying, and says “it’s so awesome to be doing this again”.

It has, in truth, been a while.

Formed in 1990 as madrigal-singing, indie boy-bothering, ethereal-soundtrack contributors they quickly established themselves as weirdly thrilling goth square pegs in a boring pre-Britpop round hole.

The albums Madra, Suspiria and the Iris EP were gorgeous, dream-y slices of Baroque dark-folk and they were, rightly, feted as truly alternative spirits.

After ditching the restrictive madrigals, upping the Goth and releasing two further albums, Fairytales of Slavery and Carnival of Souls, they disappeared in 2000.

In 2022 they re-emerged to play a sell-out 100 Club show and, now, a short UK tour.

Opening with Wooden Boat, from Fairytales of Slavery, it is quickly apparent that any thoughts of a return to the earliest days of the band is certainly not on the cards.

It is thunderous mayhem, violin and recorder bobbing to the surface of a turbulent ocean of noise. Blake’s operatic howl the lighthouse beam in a furious tempest. From there the runes are cast, the stage set.

All There Is, from Carnival of Souls, sees Bev Lee Harling savagely sawing at her violin while Trevor Sharpe pounds out a military tattoo on the world’s hardest working drum kit.

He never lets it rest, causing bits of The Fleece to vibrate that are normally left unmolested. It is mightily tribal, brutally effective.

All the while Blake stands, serene, in the eye of the storm and allows her awesome voice to fill every gap. It takes some serious vocals to be heard over the churning madness that her band creates but she does it with ease.

Sleeping Beauty is a fairytale that is resolutely, pre-Disney. None of the edges have been smoothed off, none of the nasty bits erased. This is dark and violent and twisted.

Harling’s violin and Kavus Torabi’s (Cadiacs, Gong) guitar swarm all over it, setting up an almighty, disquieting buzz. A sense of The Wicker Man’s unease creeps through it, a foth lullaby where sleep is the last thing on your mind.

On Ever and Ever, Blake unveils her very best “wicked stepmother” voice and the corruption of children’s fables is complete. Huge gothic keyboards and a squalling guitar/violin battle would leave a handsome prince running for his life.

Almost every track tonight is taken from either one of the last two Miranda Sex Garden albums. There is, therefore, no chance of a brief trip to the Renaissance, no chance of a breather.

Without Trace starts with a twinkle of keyboards, like moonlight reflected from an oil slick. It’s beauty created from ruin and decay. The song is slower, icier and Blake hits her stride as the perfect goth-opera diva.

By Peepshow she has taken on the persona of one of those scary Ishiguro automatons, huge heavy metal drums crushing everything around her, that voice like a big cat idly toying with a mouse.

On Blue Light she shrieks like a Bronte heroine, calling across a foggy moor, and for Velvetine she chews the scenery like only a b-movie Scream Queen can. All the while violin and guitar snap and snarl at one another, bass and drums pulverizing everything left standing.

Finally, there is the tiniest piece of respite. A Fairytale of Slavery slips back into the dreamhouse. It is glacial, scary, intense. The savagery replaced by something altogether more sinister.

Are You the One? strikes similar pitch-dark dream-pop poses until it is entirely engulfed by massive synth washes. Yet still, Katherine Blake sings her siren song, revelling in their resurrection.

Main photo: Gavin McNamara

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• Review: Cinder Well, Cafe Kino – ‘The most astonishing, visceral live performance’

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