Marina & The Diamonds, Live at Vicar St

One thing’s for certain, Ms Marina Diamandis knows how to make an entrance. She takes the stage tonight with what appears to be her own Bond film opening sequence. The fans (or the ‘Diamonds’, as Marina would have it) that pack Vicar St. are suitably impressed. To be honest, it’s likely they’d still have roared their lungs out had she shuffled out in a cardigan: Dublin is clearly smitten with the singer. Her growing popularity is evident in the mass singalongs that continue unabated throughout the evening. Helping matters along is the sheer wealth of memorable tunes at her disposal, which is a testament in itself, so early in her career. Each is a forceful glamstomp of a pop song, the likes of ‘I Am Not A Robot’ and ‘Mowgli’s Road’ going down particularly well. Her band supply able backing, lending the songs a more ragged, off-kilter feel than on record. They’re all the better for it. On occasion, she is alone at the keyboard, showcasing her vocal depth on the delicate likes of ‘Numb’. For the most part though, she prances around the stage. Channeling some kind of Greek mysticism in her dancing, Marina smoulders. Her voice veers from a wild howl to a deep Nico hum. On the Kate Bush family tree, she’s Florence Welch’s darker, more exotic sister. Oddly, the enigmatic persona she conjures up during the music is somewhat undermined with her cheerful, appreciative between-song banter. It’s nice that she’s nice, but the aloofness suits her.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the costumes are suitably eclectic: something classically black, something like a pair of pyjamas and, by the end, an American cheerleader outfit. Props pop up occasionally: gigantic glasses, balloons, Native American headwear, flashing lovehearts. Lady Gaga’s in town tonight – she would surely approve. And perhaps be a little wary of the competition...