Once upon a time Britain used to set the standard for rock and roll front man excellence. But the Island that gave the world standard-setting troublemakers like Mick Jagger, Ozzy Osbourne, Johnny Rotten and Liam Gallagher is now producing a different type of rock singer.
Joe Newman is the golden-tonsiled vocalist for Yorkshire’s Alt-J, who played a sold out concert at Vancouver’s Orpheum last night. The latest in the line of potential world-beaters from the UK, Alt-J (or ∆ - the symbol that pressing alt and j on an Apple Mac produces if you’re being really pretentious) have received every accolade available back across the pond. But this is a band that has international ambitions. Making their second appearance in Vancouver this year, they already have enough clout to sell out the 2,780 seats at The Orpheum.
Not that they’re striving for commercial appeal. The gloomy heaviness of “Fitzpleasure,” the first track to get the crowd out of its seats, set the tone for what was to come; shards of guitar and churning beats held together by Newman’s passionate, reverb-soaked vocals. “Something Good” was the closest the band would come to a party jam, with stabs of melody and harmony breaking through the all-pervasive atmosphere of claustrophobic doom. Fun times.
Alt-J’s unique talent is the way that its four members combine to produce more than the sum of their parts. Drummer Thom Green was outstanding throughout, generating pinpoint accuracy and unexpected rhythms from his cymbal-free kit. Keyboard player Gus Unger-Hamilton, the only member of the band to actually speak to the crowd during the show, had an uncanny ability to conjure medieval style harmonies, often delivered a cappella, with Newman. Even so, it was Newman himself, eyes closed, gently picking at his guitar, dominating the stage, with his singing hitting spectacular levels during “Matilda” and “Dissolve Me.”
There is a theory that you can tell if a song is any good based on whether it still sounds ok when played on a lone acoustic guitar. Alt-J’s songs don’t work like that. They’re fragile things, seemingly held together by a combination of the four members’ faith in their colleagues. Somehow, it works. Set closer “Taro” had the adoring crowd gently grooving, before the encore of “Ms” and “Breezeblocks” closed the night with as close to a party atmosphere as their maudlin experimentalism can muster.
At the final note Newman held his guitar skyward in triumph, before making the Alt-J delta triangle symbol with his hands and swaggering off stage in a manner that befits the next British vocal superstar. He’d been note perfect and hadn’t spoken a single word to the crowd all night. As front man for a band whose sound and performance are steeped in mystery, it seemed entirely appropriate.
