The Forum, Kentish Town
18th October 2006
I don’t know anything about pop music. I was brought up listening to classical music; I learned to play classical instruments, and I spent so much time doing music practices and orchestra rehearsals, I wasn’t really interested in buying tapes of anything, really. Even my friends tended to be people I met in orchestras, so I never got the chance to go to their houses to listen to some chart music.
Not that I feel in any way deprived, but it does put me at a slight disadvantage when it comes to reviewing a pop concert. I don’t know anything about pop music styles. I don’t know my acid from my emo. I’m not even sure which word to use to describe Orson’s music, except that it was brilliant, and I enjoyed it as much as I might a Mozart opera.
The Forum isn’t all that different from an opera house. Having to stand in a queue outside the building was a new experience, and rather a surprise, since I thought I was late. The smile and friendly comment from the man on the door was a very nice surprise, as was the kindness of the lady who searched (and admired) my bag. The gallery upstairs was not unlike the one at the Barbican, with its slightly annoying lack of seatbacks (but, as it happened, a seatback wasn’t really needed). Downstairs, there were no seats at all: in the world of pop music, it seems that standing room is more sought-after and more expensive than a seat. It’s strange, but, as I wanted a seat, it worked out rather well. Then, of course, there was a stage: a familiar sighr to the opera-goer.
However, while there were many physical similarities, the atmosphere was very different. It was dark. Many audience members were drinking from glasses: strictly forbidden in the opera house. Pop music blared from speakers. I hated it – for about five minutes. It was actually quite nice sitting in the dark. The Royal Opera House is a beautiful building, but it does make me feel as though I have to be on my best behaviour. It takes me a while to feel comfortable there, even now. (Perhaps the music from the Forum speakers helped, although it wasn’t great music.) There was also a great sense of excitement in the room. You do get that at the opera house, of course, but it always seems a bit stifled. I wouldn’t like to say opera houses are snobby, but they do have uncomfortably high standards in everything apart from kindness to patrons and air-con.
There was a lot of waiting around. The support band didn’t come on until about 8pm. The ticket said that doors would open at 7pm, so I was expecting it to start at around that time too, but things don’t work like that at The Forum. A lot of people came in just before the support band started, and several more came in while they were playing. The room didn’t really start to fill up until Orson came onto the stage. Could you imagine that happening in an opera house? It didn’t annoy me, though. I just didn’t mind at all, and why should I., when it’s not even against the rules? It only takes a second for people to squeeze past, after all.
Eventually, the support band came onto the stage. They are called Gliss (something to do with glissando?), and I hadn’t heard of them, but that doesn’t mean anything much. I only got to hear about Orson through being a Big Brother fan. (There’s nothing wrong with Big Brother. It’s full of melodrama and insanity, and occasional horrendous singing, and cute men who always get killed off earlier than they should be. Just the kind of thing an opera fan likes.)
Gliss was made up of a girl and two boys playing a guitar, bass and drums. I don’t like to be rude about them, but their music was very difficult to appreciate. How many of you have friends who claim that classical music sounds all the same to them? Well, Gliss was painfully loud; had no discernable tune; the lighting effects seemed to be there to torture the audience rather than to make any kind of artistic connection with the music, and it all sounded like tuneless rubbish. But I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt, and say I’m probably just not sufficiently familiar with their style to enjoy their music.
Gliss did impress me in one sense. Each band member could play at least two instruments equally well. They could all sing, too, although their diction would disgrace the ENO. Again, though, the singing style is very different, and perhaps the words aren’t all that important to pop fans. If you want to see a group jumping around, screaming, and playing their instruments very loudly, you might well like Gliss.
They did get a fairly good reception, but it was nothing to Orson’s. Orson practically got a standing ovation just for walking onstage. There was a break between the two groups, a bit like an interval, I suppose, but I didn’t know how long it was going to be, and there didn’t seem to be any announcements that the music was about to start again, which is something that I really appreciate at the opera.
I had sat down for Gliss, but, when Orson came on, everyone stood up, and stayed standing up. The gallery was raked, but, from a sitting position, I could only see drummer Chris Cano, so I had to stand up too. It felt quite unnatural at first, but, when you’re listening to a really good group of musicians, you can forget about things like that.
The first song began: Bright Idea, one of the songs on the album to have been released as a single. I don’t really see the point of singles – I have the album – but, if people spend money on them, why not? They played several songs, including one or two I didn’t recognise. Vocalist Jason Pebworth has brilliant diction when singing, with every word coming over clearly on the CD, and almost every word in concert, but his announcements of what song they were going to do next was often impossible to understand. However, just one of the great things about Orson is that each song is so distinctive. Bright Idea, Happiness, No Tomorrow, It’s Already Over, Downtown, Look Around... they’re all completely different. They all have their own style; their own mood, and the band adapts to each one without a sense of jarring the audience. It only takes a few bars before it’s clear what they’re going to perform next.
The songs are all different, but all very musically satisfying. There are one or two songs that are still growing on me, even after the concert, but each is rich and fascinating with wonderful moments of originality. The standard of musicianship is very high, and the communication between the five members of the band – Jason, Chris, guitarists Kevin Roentgen and George Astasio, and bassist Johnny Lonely – gives each song a dramatic element that would be appreciated by any opera or theatre fan. Bright Idea made an exciting opening to the concert; there was a sadness in Already Over and a desperation in So Ahead of Me that were particularly involving, and Look Around was just gorgeous.
No Tomorrow, which was performed last, is still their greatest song. The lyrics are deceptively simple but amusing (although that might not have been the intention), and there’s something about the chorus that makes my heart thump like it’s listening to Don Giovanni, which might shock some classical music fans, but I don’t care. The fact that No Tomorrow was the hit of the concert must be quite discouraging considering it was their first song, but they seemed to enjoy it as much as the audience.
The only small criticism was the balance. I could hear Jason all the time, but sometimes he was partly drowned out by the instrumentalists, with the result that he was forced to sing louder. This turned his tone slightly harsh, as it would to any singer, and that was quite worrying to hear. I don’t think pop groups are built to last, but I wouldn’t want Jason to lose his voice. He has a very beautiful voice: a very light tenor with an excellent falsetto, very well-controlled when not under pressure, and impressively agile. He can change his tone slightly to suit the style of each song, and all the emotions are portrayed strongly. Jason wrote all the songs, and they’re supposed to be about real relationships he’s had in the past, which is does rather make me want to hug him, but it does seem as though he’s getting a lot of fun and money out of it, so it must be okay. And it is really impressive the way he practically gets a whole opera plot into a 3-minute song. It’s a shame Wagner isn’t around to take note. But I’d love to see an Orson opera.
Cunning Little Vixen
primi-divi at hotmail.co.uk