Martha Wainwright, live at the Pepper Canister Church

Martha Wainwright’s new album poses a simple but profound question: how much joy and suffering can the human heart endure before splintering into a million pieces? In 2009, halfway through a concert in London, the heavily pregnant Canadian went into premature labour. Two months later, after a drawn out fight with cancer, her mother, Montreal folkie Kate McGarrigle, passed away. From this tsunami of emotion, Wainwright dredged the material that would comprise Come Home To Mama, a tingle-inducing rumination on life and death, happiness and bereavement.
Framed by Pepper Canister Church’s understated Christian bling, it is clear she has come not to grieve but celebrate. Wearing quirky boots and colourful knee-length dress, the 36-year-old is a flinty, sometimes uproariously funny presence (like her older brother Rufus she has perfected the art of the hilariously meandering monologue). Strumming a guitar, her songs move from heartfelt to irreverent to cathartic, at all times illuminated by a searing honesty.
She starts with a track she has always denied is about her husband, ‘Bleeding All Over You’, with its stop-the-traffic refrain, “I know you’re married but I’ve got feelings too” (Brad Albetta was in a relationship when he and Wainwright fell in love). With a lot of family angst to vent – she famously does not get along with her dad, Loudon Wainwright III – Martha has earned a reputation as somewhat of an angst peddler. Actually, her repertoire tends towards the light and catchy. That’s true even when she is contemplating something serious, such as a chilly period in her marriage (‘Can You Believe It?’) or spinning a fantasy in which she and her band are killed en route to a concert in provincial Canada (‘Four Black Sheep’).
A church gig has inherent pitfalls. You can’t really rock out, much less climb the amps or spit beer at the front row. And yet, you don’t want the venue to define your performance. Some quips about being tempted to dip into the communion wine aside, Wainwright smartly ignores the setting, though the sanctified backdrop probably explains the omission of ‘Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole’ (another song about – who else? – her dad).