Review: Rita Lynch, The Exchange

Rita Lynch launched her (splendid) new album Backwards at the Exchange on a grey, dank miserable night and delightfully provided the busy venue with two excellent support acts to offset the miserable weather.

Proceedings were opened by Marcy, a new project comprising Annie Gardiner (vox and sounds), Dan Johnson (drums) and Cliff Jones (sounds). The trio improvised a towering soundscape built from Johnson’s impressive drumming, centred around Gardiner’s striking vocals (free form lyrics rooted in a Susan Sontag quote) as Jones created a swirling, churning cauldron of noise (not a pejorative) using all sorts of gizmos (technical term) seemingly controlled by his mobile.

The piece started out low key, focus on Gardiner’s voice with unobtrusive drums and Jones applying a glass to his mic as a more sounds were gradually introduced from a table of, well, gizmos. Said table looking like the contents of a ham radio aficionado’s bedroom reconfigured to pay homage to the BBC Radiophonic Workshop.

The opening minutes of ambient sounds lulled the listener into a mellow groove as Gardiner pivoted around the mic, triggering vocal loops and adding to the sounds until Jones abandoned the glass to dial up a crashing barrage of sound and Johnson attacked his kit with real venom but also with real groove.

Thereafter the trio built their soundscape, Johnson driving a motorik beat decorated with powerful fills and crescendos whilst Jones prowled in front of him wringing a bombardment of noise from his ‘phone. Gardiner chose her moments to sing live, chose her moments to trigger looped vocals, all the while lost in her own dance with Jones throwing shapes as he conjured feedback and white noise in reaction to the vocals and drums.

The piece never threatened but took on a brooding, almost diabolic intensity, proving you don’t need corpse paint, an illegible band logo and a sack of third-hand Sabbaff riffs to invoke a feeling of other and a captivating feeling of unease, trapping the listener pleasurably in the piece.

Despite the improvisation this was a remarkably cohesive piece of music that never faltered. This wasn’t just cacophony, there was purpose to the music – Johnson’s drums evoking danceable beats and Gardiner compelling visually and hypnotic vocally, a human counterpoint to Jones’s sci-fi devil sounds. Much experimental music has a whiff of the emperor’s new clothes about it, but this was the real deal.

Meanwhile The Brackish played a three song set that was based in more conventional music but managed to take a whole bag of genre tropes and twist them into thrilling excursions that entertained and delighted.

Their sound is difficult to pigeonhole, Pitchfork were contacted but alas they were busy developing their soon come Radiohead Monopoly © Set, so here goes… The Brackish play progressive jazzy funky psychedelic playful lengthy heavy challenging yet accessible instrumental post-Zappa music. They played it with skill and verve and their set was delightfully received, not least by the night’s headliner, who was alternatively pogoing and dancing in the middle of the crowd. In response to a suggestion that she save her energy for her set she stated “Now is not the time to be calm”, a view shared by many.

The set opened with Physcial Jerks, from most recent LP Liquid of Choice, warming the audience up nicely before two new tunes really found the crowd’s g-spot. Jackie and Joan (“Guess who this song is about”) was nimble mojito prog interspersed with crashing granite riffs, heavier than metal, audaciously contrasting with the danceable passages. Beermoth (song title of the year anyone?) was a massive tune, the band stretching it and thrilling the crowd with their instrumental gymnastics.

The set was built on the rock solid drums of Matt Jones and dub drenched funkalicious bass of Jacob Myles Tyghe, leaving Luke Cawthra and Neil Smith to mesh and entwine their guitars, sharing leads, sharing riffs and duelling with frisky aplomb. Smith specialised in the more out-there sounds, other-worldly solos and during Beermoth continually driving his instrument into a cul-de-sac and yet finding a way out with a virtuoso display of technique. Cawthta was rock solid, his work subtle and succinct, demanding close attention and underpinning Smith’a flights.

Across town the G3 guitarmageddon was on stage at the Colston, Satch and his pals delivering state of the art widdling and six string wizardry: The Brackish could have joined that shindig and given the lot of them a run for their money.

Rita Lynch opened her set with a semi-acoustic collection of songs, accompanying herself on keys initially (charmingly supported by an ironing board) before taking up her acoustic, complimented throughout by a returning Smith on electric. Lynch has always been a strong songwriter and her total commitment to her material was all the more evident on these stripped back cuts. Her vigorous strumming was neatly decorated by Smith’s evocative and subtle leads, never taking his eyes off her as he reacted to her performance. A tuning mishap lightened the intensity, Lynch and Smith generating plenty of power and conviction on the skeletal cuts.

With singer and crowd suitably warmed up Smith laid down his axe as Lynch was joined by her stalwart band, John Langley, drums and Mike Youe, bass and they proceeded to sock it to the crowd with the new album. Played almost in its entirety and in sequence, the tunes sounded powerful and the band supremely confident in their performance. Backwards really is a powerful piece of work (read more about its genesis here), and opening cut Heavy was the consummate statement of intent.

The material was performed with maximum passion and minimal fuss. Apart from a “Thank you very much” after every song Lynch didn’t address the crowd at all – hell, the LP wasn’t even mentioned until about a dozen tunes in to the night. But that mattered not, there was a palpable wave of affection throughout the night and it was clear that Lynch could feel it too. Although fresh to most in the room the record was received with delight, the songs already sounding like old favourites.

Lynch remained static throughout the set, but then no need for posing or foot on the monitor antics, her material and delivery demanded attention as much as they demanded reaction. Focused, in the moment and with the bebop all around her this was a classy statement of intent – no resting on laurels but excellent new music and plenty of appetite for performance.

Of course her band were tight as ever and on superior form – Langley is a powerful drummer and it was clear he and his kit hadn’t agreed a safeword because he battered it relentlessly and without mercy. Yet never missed a beat or sacrificed groove for bludgeon. Like Smith earlier, he and his partner in rhythm had eyes on Lynch for the majority of the set, ensuring every song was tight and to the point, not a note wasted or a chord misplaced. Youe laid down rock solid riffs, complimenting Lynch’s unconventional approach to her guitar. She played with power but eschewed anything like a (clichéd) riff and played not a single solo throughout the night, totally refreshing modern rock.

Older material appeared, Youe couldn’t keep himself out of the audience – two crowd invasions – and Langley continued to abuse his kit as the set built to a climax. There was no conventional encore, the band simply played a few more tunes before Lynch, mile wide smile in place and arms outstretched, thanked the crowd for their attendance. She had every right to be pleased – the new album is as strong as anything in her catalogue, powerful and totally relevant; the material sounded superb on stage and amply illustrated why Lynch remains vital on record and vital on stage.

Rita Lynch: The Exchange, Thursday 26 April 2018

All pix by John Morgan