Reviewed today are: Ryan Adams and The Cardinalsat the Ambassador, Kempf and the RTÉ NSO/Valadeat the NCH and Goldfrappat the Tripod.
Ryan Adams and The Cardinals
Ambassador, Dublin
The wild child of rock is now in his 30s and he appears to have entered a new era of stability.
Tonight there was little of the shambolic self-indulgence that had become a feature of a Ryan Adams gig. Instead, Adams was focused and together, delivering a blistering two-hour set. This was Adams at the peak of his powers with backing band The Cardinals acting as the perfect foil for his talents.
Inevitably, much of the set was devoted to tracks from the impressive new album Cardinology, in which a re-invigorated Adams fuses his alt country roots with some driving rock. It blends elements from the likes of Neil Young, U2 and The Grateful Dead.
The wunderkind must be slowing up. Cardinologyis only his first album in 18 months; this from a highly prolific performer who delivered no less than three albums in 2004. In truth, Adams has probably still to deliver on the potential he showed on his breakthrough Heartbreakeralbum in 2000. His drug problems and other demons have often overshadowed his talent.
But tonight, it is clear that sobriety and Ryan Adams are comfortable bedfellows.
Fix It, the stand out track from the new album, features a searing Wilco-style guitar, while Cobwebsshowcases Adams's great vocal range. Adams also treats us to his eerie, countrified version of Oasis' Wonderwall. After hearing the version, the Gallaghers once observed that Ryan Adams now owns the song; on stage it was a real highlight. There was no shortage of others as Adams rolled out songs from his back pages including familiar favourites like When The Stars go Blueand La Cinega just Smiled.
There was none of the usual tantrums and grandstanding from Adams. Instead, the whole gig had a warm glow as Adams and The Cardinals settled into what they used to call a comfortable groove.
Adams performed half a dozen songs during a long encore. His voice was at its most fragile and haunting on Stop, his song about sickness and recovery.
The new album, which has soared into the US charts, is expected to be Adams' last on Lost Highway records. It may be that part one of his brilliant careers is over. Apparently, he favours a change of direction - more rock and less alt country.
There is every reason to be excited by the prospect. Ryan Adams may be cleaned up and chilled out, but he is a bona fide rock star. This gig throbbed with great vocals and great playing. Adams is back on track. SEAN FLYNN
Kempf, RTÉ NSO/Valade
NCH, Dublin
Henri Dutilleux — Métaboles. Ravel — Piano Concerto in G. Franck — Symphony in D minor.
Henri Dutilleux's Métaboles, commissioned for the 40th anniversary of the Cleveland Orchestra and premiered under George Szell in January 1965, has kept a very respectable presence both on disc and in the concert hall. Its return is like the arrival of an old friend who always has something new to say.
Dutilleux, who turned 90 two years ago, is a fastidious craftsman, and the polished detail of his orchestration is always a pleasure.
What was in his mind in writing Métaboles, he has said, was "the mysterious, fascinating world of everlasting change".
That change is carried through not only with a sure sense of organic development but also with a satisfying ultimate resolution.
Pierre-André Valade's performance with the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra on Friday was sure-footed in pacing though not always as tidy in detail as one would have wished.
Valade took a fairly direct approach to César Franck's symphony in D minor, a work that treads a dangerously fine line between the hypnotic focus of an orator who knows how to stay focused on the essential message and the repetitive emphasis of a speaker who doesn't know how to get meaningfully beyond the core point.
Valade's clear-headedness did not fully avoid an effect of going around in circles, and the music-making was hampered by a lack of dynamic variety in climaxes, which effectively created a ceiling above which the music could not rise.
The high point of this performance was the finely taken cor anglais solo in the second movement.
Freddy Kempf was the agreeably energised soloist in Ravel's piano concerto in G. He relished the music's jazzy snap and bluesy inflections, and generated a gorgeously calm raptness for the long solo that opens the slow movement. MICHAEL DERVAN
Goldfrapp
Tripod, Dublin
Over the course of four albums, Goldfrapp have nailed the seemingly impossible task of making fantastically catchy yet mysteriously complex pop music. Comparing the English duo's live show to a football match might, at first, seem like a strange analogy.
The band's display in Tripod, however, had many ingredients that resembled a hard fought encounter between two teams, in this case the audience and the performer. The show had two distinct halves; the first was a subdued game of cat and mouse with each side reluctant to give anything away while the second half was far more open and entertaining.
The reason for this unusual sate of affairs stemmed from the actions of Alison Goldfrapp. Dressed in a revealing pink silk costume with a six-piece band (minus co-member Will Gregory), all in matching white, the singer was a picture of self-assured yet detached grace.
A couple of songs into the set, she brusquely requested that fans abstain from using flash photography. In Liverpool, a week earlier, Goldfrapp had stormed off stage due to this same request being ignored. Bristles of tension were palpable in the audience's reaction and it created a frosty atmosphere that took time to thaw. Musically, the band never put a foot wrong. Utopiaallowed Goldfrapp to show off her spectacular voice, and the spiky string arrangement of You Never Knowwas dazzling if not rousing.
Little Birdprovided the breakthrough that brought proceedings to life. Allowing the musicians to flex their muscles, the swirling psychedelic folk tune triggered the dancing feet of the audience.
Following this with the electro-glam of Number 1and candy-pop Happinessensured everyone remained on-side. Even Goldfrapp finally appeared to be loosening out, as she tossed out compliments and lapped up the crowd's responses.
With the squelchy synths of Traingiving way to Goldfrapp's possessed theremin playing the show had turned from a jittery competitive fixture to a full-on friendly.
Proving that it takes more than just great songs to make an excellent gig, and having delivered hits for a full 90 minutes, the band and fans parted in a wave of mutual adulation. BRIAN KEANE
