LAUFEY – LIVE: REVIEW
- 2 days ago
- 2 min read
LAUFEY
Afterpay Arena, Sydney, August 7
NOT ALL HEROINES wear capes.
Some wear felt crowns and bunny ears, or capelet and tiaras, silver boots and lace dresses, and if you’re lucky, some hennins (come on, you know, high medieval conical hats. Obvs.) or a dress partially made from sheet music, one sheet of which has been folded into the shape of the Opera House. As you do. Obvs.
One doesn’t merely attend a Laufey show, one must represent a favourite image from one of her filmclips, promo shots, family photos or, well, the vibe, like the 20something next to me who was in a gorgeous ‘50s black dress-and-hair-and-makeup.
Too much in a (literally) packed to the rafters arena? Nah, it’s great: a constant ripple energy and flair charging the character-less room even before the red curtains parted to show on one side of the double stairs the rock band (with upright bass), on the other the string ensemble (with flute) and emerging between them, Laufey entering like a Disney princess coming down the aisle.
Well, a Disney princess who says fuck.
That though is the least of it for the Icelandic singer’s commitment to messing with the form given we’re talking someone whose music is a decided throwback where influences are no more recent than bossa nova’s ‘60s infiltration of classy pop (which we see in Falling Behind and the full Jobim-ness of Mr Eclectic and From The Start) or the New York nights at the Stork Club or Copacabana (see, for example, Silver Lining, or how Madwoman comes on as if arranged by a young Quincy Jones).
Now, it is not uncommon to have 21st century singers take on roistering southern soul or Laurel Canyon pop, rockabilly revivals recur on the regular, ‘60s beat and psych groups never leave us, and a tour through the great American songbook is inevitable once your demographic reach the “hey, the kids don’t need a babysitter anymore and I just got promoted to regional manager” stage.
But someone singing (and playing cello, guitar and piano in) determinedly non-rock styles, in old school arrangements of rhythm rather than beat – albeit with modern oomph, that falters only in Tough Luck, where there is more stamping than gliding from the band – and aiming at a tween/teen/YA market, is a gutsy move, no matter how many old Disney movies they may have seen. (That said, Snow White does feel like an Alan Menken song left off a Mouse House soundtrack.)
Remember, when the references are Jo Stafford and Dinah Washington, Helen Merrill and Astrud Gilberto, we are not talking parents’ or grandparents’ music but a generation further back for this audience. Not that this troubles anyone on or off the stage. Which is, you have to say, pretty great too.
If Laufey’s perfectly fine voice does not yet have the range and depth of those reference points, her writing shows she is wholly invested, not just dabbling, and the show pours some wild variety into musical diets without any sense of piousness, just fun. And that deserves a tiara.
Maybe even a crown.
SEE MORE
Laufey plays Afterpay Arena tonight for the last show of the Australian tour.
Comments