2004-11 Gigwise.com

Tuesday 09/11/04 Regina Spektor @ Night and Day, Manchester

---

by Daniel Pratley

---

Acting sweetly can get you a long way if you’re a lady. Blunder your way through songs, hitching and snagging each note and then top it with a cutesy smile and you're excused. Well you’d be forgiven for believing this backhanded tactic is employed by Regina Spektor but the truth is she need not hide behind the guise. The fact that she chooses to act the sweetest fool while delivering syrup soaked vocals is a mystery and somewhat irritating. This is the only fault in tonight’s set and quite frankly its not really worth mentioning because tonight Regina’s niggles of embarrassment and doused state (painkillers) play needle to her talented haystack.

The Russian born, New York raised quirky folkster inhabits a world somewhere close to Tori Amos matched with the lyrical comic attributes of Jeffrey Lewis, and it sounds great. She effortlessly quavers and trills whilst simultaneously bludgeoning a chair and banging a piano (‘Poor little rich boy’), no mean feat and quite a spectacle. Often conjuring sexually charged images (‘Hero’) she harbours a realistic approach that touches the psyche of most listeners, resulting in her authentically rich tapestry of experiences being presented in a refreshingly frank way. Although bestowing us with her timid exterior she seizes no hostages whilst calling for quiet at the venue, the result is instant peace.

Regina delights the small assembly to a set consisting of mainly new material, flitting between guitar, piano and chair ‘beating’ leaving some perplexed at her reluctance to perform her most well known tunes, later she informs us she will return “when I’ve practised them”.

‘Carbon Monoxide’ highlights Regina’s individual idiosyncratic singing style: sometimes whispered sometimes growled, whilst all the time pleading to be understood in a childishly naive sort of way. ‘The Virgin Queen’ stands dangerously close to Amos, which is by no means a criticism more a compliment on vocal dexterity, she even manages what sounds like a muslim chant come the end, yeah…it’s pretty surreal. But not as odd as her "ode" to "uncle Bobby" or as we know him Bob Dylan, it’s a strange innocent statement of appreciation to someone she obviously admires, done in the most cringey heartfelt way it’s almost uncomfortable to witness. Last tune ‘Secret Stash’ with a chorus of beat box noises is again bizarre but somehow works. Tonight it all works, although in an innocently peculiar kind of way.

---

Photo by Daniel Pratley