Sunday 24th May 2009 @ Colston Hall, Bristol

Beyond gushing superlatives, few have ever tried to explain exactly what we find so enchanting about the human voice. Perhaps the most convincing attempt comes in the shape of the French philosopher Roland Barthes’ concept of ‘the grain of the voice’. For Barthes, a singer with a ‘grain-rich’ voice is one who manages to emote something beyond the mere grammar of what they are singing; who communicates something from deep inside their own body which resonates in the body of their listener. As such, a voice so bodily, singing a “language lined with flesh”, is never pure, but rather has an inner core laced with reality, and all the pain, longing and of course joy that goes with it. Such voices are rare, so a voice that has ‘grain’ in Barthes’ terms is socially subversive by nature. Often, as a result, even uncomfortable to listen to.

Of course, any voice can only ever be judged subjectively. A voice with grain to you, may seem anaemic to somebody else. Not many would argue however, that Antony Hegarty’s voice has gotta lotta bloody grain!

Playing beneath very dark lighting, which creates an amazing intimacy to the show, almost like being in one of the small Manhattan clubs he started in, the audience sits back and allows Antony’s ghostly, Nina Simone-esque voice to slowly work its way through to the marrow of their bones. Backed by a full band of drums, guitar, bass, cello, violin, clarinet (often taken for a soprano sax) and even a harmonium at one point, the group create a cathedral of sound for Antony to sing inside of. The tone, of course, isn’t a bombastic one as you might usually expect from such an array of instruments, but rather one of a man whispering to himself. Perhaps this kind of introspection is what gives the whole thing its “language lined with flesh” quality.

No matter how great this group are on record, live is how they should be heard. The song Epilepsy Is Dancing is a thing of wonderment, driven by a twisting, operatic vocal; Shake That Devil an up-tempo saxophone stomp; You Are My Sister and Aeon heartbreaking, string accompanied exaltations that are at their best when performed to a congregation.

A standing ovation demands an encore and the group oblige with Cripple And Starfish (one of those songs, though haunting in its lyrical content, you’d be happy to hear go on forever) and finally the truly ethereal Hope There’s Someone, before receiving another rapturous ovation, greeted by Antony and the group with characteristic humility.

Lou Reed once said that when he first heard Antony sing he knew he was in the presence of an angel; a falsetto voiced, transgender one of course, or witch, as Antony would prefer to be called. Either way, tonight’s show certainly slots comfortably into the category of ‘revelation’.

www.antonyandthejohnsons.com

James Davey