When Noah and the Whale first emerged in 2008 with Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down, a record that even fans admitted flirted dangerously with the twee abyss, few would have guessed that they would become one of the most exciting acts to emerge from the London nu-folk scene. While Laura Marling morphs slowly but surely into Joni Mitchell, and Mumford and Sons attract frequent flack for their hollow theatrics, Noah and the Whale have made sincerity their strong suit, following up with two excellent but disparate records. Over the past few years they’ve gradually progressed to bigger venues and this latest stop, at the ambience vacuum that is the York Barbican, was one of a number of dates added to the Last Night on Earth Tour at the end of last year after strong sales. For a group who could easily have been paper-thin one hit wonders, it’s impressive stuff.
The crowd that await Noah and the Whale in York on Saturday night is a genial mix of teens, young couples and families, but support act Emmy the Great struggle to capitalise on audience good will, combining strong songs with an extraordinarily graceless presence. Last year’s Virtue was a moving break up album that seemed to signal a progression for singer/songwriter Emmy Lee Moss away from her usual shtick of wordy but melodically inert anti-folk towards a more nuanced sound. Yet live Moss remains head over heart, entirely disengaged and handicapping herself with pedestrian arrangements. Moss possesses considerable song writing talent, but until she can find a way to project a stage persona that doesn’t make you want to gouge out your own eyes with social embarrassment then she’s going to be stuck on the indie periphery.
It’s in managing to marry strong songs with a compelling stage presence that Noah and the Whale have really upped their game. A couple of years ago, when touring the soul scourging The First Days of Spring (2009), they could be uncomfortably raw performers, gazing at their own knees and failing to forge a real emotional connection between their astonishing material and the bemused audience. It’s amazing what an album of irresistible, entirely un-ironic pop hits can do. At the Barbican Fink proves he is developing into a proper front man, oozing awkward buttoned up cool, causing a minor stir when he whips off his jacket to reveal braces and a waistcoat. Tiny and fine-boned in slightly too high trousers, a blank-eyed Fink leaps onto amplifiers, suavely flicks his microphone stand and tugs redundantly at the drapes that frame the stage. Showered by a sprinkling of roses that he attached to his guitar neck during the encore, Fink is turning into Justin Bieber for the sort of teenage girls who buy vinyl and read Perks of a Wallflower. Which makes him sounds insufferable but is actually pretty charming.
Of course, all this posturing would be pointless if the band failed to deliver musically, but in fact the set is a triumph. Dressed in matching grey suits they’re an odd fit, with drummer Michael Petulla and violinist Tom Hobden resembling displaced members of a skiffle group, whilst bassist Matt Owens and Keyboardist Fred Abbott could be extras from Rock of Ages. Successfully constructing a coherent set list from three very different albums is no easy task, but Charlie and co. deliver in spectacular style, cleverly reconstituting their early perky folk-pop and the painful self-analysis of First Days of Spring to fit with their new found wholehearted optimism. “Life is Life” and “Me Before We Met” provide a strong opening, hitting the audience with bouncy life affirmers before digging into the back catalogue. A series of older numbers follow, with a clever arrangement “Love of An Orchestra” somehow overcoming the lack of a chamber orchestra and gospel choir, and a beautiful rendition of “Blue Skies” bravely slowing the pace. Most impressively of all, a new arrangement of “Old Joy” transforms an anti-climatic album closing dirge into a rollicking crowd pleaser.
Given the musical distance that separates the band’s albums, it isn’t surprising that it’s tracks from Peaceful, The World Lays Me Down that receive the coolest reaction. The likes of “Rocks and Daggers” and “Shape of My Heart” are delivered with conviction, but the songs simply lack the emotional sincerity or bulls-eye pop sensibility of later records. This disparity leads to a slight mid set lull, but as “Tonight’s the Kind of Night” kicks in and Fink, twitching like a pocket Jagger, removes his jacket, the gig takes flight and doesn’t cool off again for the remainder of the set. The band follow the triumphant refrain of tonight’s the kind of night/everything could change, with the guaranteed crowd pleaser “Five Years Time”, a left-field cover of John Cale’s “Barracuda”, and the irresistible nostalgia of “Give It All Back”, before winding up with the expected but ecstatic “L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N.” An encore of “First Days of Spring” leaves the audience fully sated.
There’s still space to grow, but on the evidence of this show Noah and the Whale are finally beginning to match strong song writing with an exciting stage presence. This tour proves that for all the gangly dancing and asymmetric hair, this is a band that firmly places substance over style. Good craic Charlie.