Tricky

Tricky’s new album, Blowback, has been hailed as his most commercial work of the recent past. Reviewers have loved it, terming it “the record Tricky should have made after Maxinquaye”.

True to form, this means that Tricky will not be playing most of Blowback this evening. He may not be immune to criticism, but he doesn’t pander to his audience either. This is music coming from the darkness and, thanks to atmospheric lighting, reproduced here in virtual darkness.

As harsh, propulsive, plangent guitar fills the auditorium, Tricky begins to rasp out the lyrics, his voice coming on like a percussive instrument. The mood is black, strangely beautiful – but frequently impenetrable too.

Often, Tricky seems locked into a shadowy world that we are permitted to see but not have explained. In the past, he used former muse Martina Topley-Bird to complement the more inaccessible aspects of his performance and communicate a strong, coherent melody-line.

Unfortunately, on this occasion, an unnamed female vocalist (all blonde hair, see through top and skinny frame) bobs around haplessly on stage. Lack of rhythm is manifest in both her self-conscious dancing and nervous vocals. She proves no match for the glorious intensity of ‘Overcome’ or ‘You Don’t Wanna’ as her voice struggles to keep tune, keep time and occasionally even to be heard.

Matters do improve on Juxtapose’s ‘Hot Like A Sauna’, where Tricky’s whispered, guttural vocals are brilliantly pitched against the rapping from his other guest vocalist – a murky, convincing presence looming from stage right. Elsewhere, though, the magic is frequently found and lost again in the space of the same song. Come the end, the feeling of opacity is overwhelming.

When everything is in accord, something unique and special can happen at a Tricky gig. But as the lack of encores and mumbled apology about bad sound confirms, this was not one of Tricky’s finer performances.