Dead Can Dance at The Barbican

The foyer of the venue started to fill up quite early on, at about 18:00. The audience was fairly diverse, with the requisite number of aging goths, a youthful post-Gladiator discovery contingent, and people somewhere inbetween.

The merchandise stand immediately started to do brisk business, selling out of a number of T-shirt sizes. Vouchers for the concert CD were flying over the counter and I’d be surprised if any are left for sale on-line afterwards.

I bought a programme, took my seat and read the biographies of the band members with whom I was not yet familiar. Brendan and Lisa had included messages to the audience in the programme. Rather than address the audience directly, Brendan had chosen to quote the lyrics of one of the new songs. Lisa’s message thanked us for our attendance and spoke of the unifying effect of sharing a concert with like-minded people in such troubled times.

The band were in fine form tonight. Brendan and Lisa’s voices were rich and textured, and free of any hint of the throat complaints that have dogged them in the past.

The timing of all the musicians was excellent and there were almost no technical problems during the show. The only one that was obvious to me was some minor feedback during Yulunga. Brendan gestured to the sound engineer at various points during the song, but it took until the end of the song to locate the source of the problem, which appeared to be a guitar that hadn’t been muted.

The sound was very good, but not truly outstanding, which surprised me, because The Barbican is known for its excellent acoustics. It could have been my position (in seat F39), but I doubt it, as this was a good seat. The concerts at London Sadlers Wells Theatre in 1987 and at Amsterdam’s Muziektheater in 1993 are two that stand out in my memory as having had superior sound. This criticism isn’t actually harsh, however, as the Muziektheater concert had the best sound of any concert I’ve ever attended.

In spite of an excellent performance, I missed the sense of experimentation that has always been present in abundance on previous Dead Can Dance tours. Everything seemed very polished, as if the finishing touch had already been applied to the new songs. On previous tours, I’ve heard the songs evolve, as they take on their final form for the next album release.

That isn’t to say I don’t like the new songs, however. On the contrary: I like them a lot. I didn’t hear anything that had the impact of hearing Xavier or American Dreaming for the very first time, but I’m sure they will grow on me after a couple more hearings.

Speaking of American Dreaming, I could swear that Brendan changed the lyrics from I’m in love with an American girl to a girl of some other nationality, but I couldn’t quite make out which word he substituted. Anyone?

Brendan’s voice continues to mature with age. He really threw himself into American Dreaming, Rakim and Severance. Lisa’s vocals were perfect renditions of the studio recordings, but missed the emotional edge I’ve become used to hearing over the last nineteen years of seeing her sing live. I felt she was holding something back, for which there may be a good reason, which I’ll get to in a second.

I noticed a vaguely familiar face in the audience, but I couldn’t put a name to it until I heard him say it: Andrew Hutton. Andrew was a soprano on De Profundis from Spleen And Ideal, which I had seen him sing live with the band back in 1986.

High points in Lisa’s vocals were Sanvean and Dreams Made Flesh, both of which caused me to shed a tear. Hymn For The Fallen turned out to be every bit as interesting as attendees of previous concerts on this tour had suggested.

After the concert, I patiently waited for Lisa and Brendan to come out. Eventually, Lisa emerged. I thanked her for the evening and she kindly signed my programme. I had been amazed at how little she appeared to have changed on stage (Brendan, on the other hand, looks radically different from 20 years ago; or even 10), but when I saw her close-up, I was taken aback by how tired and drawn she looked. It wasn’t my imagination, either, because when someone else asked to have his photo taken with her, she complained of feeling ill and was quickly led back to her dressing room by the arm. Let’s hope that she’s well enough for the concert at The Forum tomorrow night.

Brendan never appeared. Presumably he was enjoying a bunch of beers backstage. By all accounts, the dressing room area was packed, so I asked a roadie to take in my programme and have Brendan sign it. He graciously obliged and I thanked him for his trouble.

Anyway, this was a wonderful night out, more than worth the time and expense of the 10,000 km I had to travel to be there. I’m looking forward to more of the same tomorrow night at The Forum and secretly hoping that they’ll vary the set list ever so slightly.

Speaking of the set list, I nabbed one from one of the roadies. It reads as follows:

1. Nierika
2. Saffron
3. Yamyinar
4. The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove
5. The Love That Cannot Be
6. The Lotus Eaters
7. Crescent
8. Minus Sanctus
9. Salterello
10. The Wind That Shakes The Barley
11. How Fortunate The Man With None
12. Dreams Made Flesh
13. I Can See Now
14. American Dreaming
15. Sanvean
16. Rakim
17. Black Sun
18. Salem’s Lot – Aria
19. Yulunga
20. Severance
21. Hymn For The Fallen

It would have been nice to hear a few older tracks. Memories of Peter Ulrich banging away on timpani during Enigma Of The Absolute and Brendan’s lush, warm vocals on In Power We Entrust The Love Advocated, Xavier and Ullyses are as fresh today as the day they indelibly imprinted themselves in my mind. I don’t expect the band to stand still, but the first few albums contain some classic songs and it would be nice to hear them again in a live setting.

The Forum concert will be interesting, as I haven’t seen the band in an unseated venue since 1990. That should make for quite a different atmosphere.