1,129 KRISTIN HERSH, Fred Abong, Bristol Fleece, Thursday 28 March 2019

Now here's a real name from the past... I'd jump all over a Throwing Muses gig in a heartbeat (indeed, I did at my last opportunity, that Trinity gig 926 in September 2014 – nearly 5 years ago now!), but a Kristin Hersh solo gig was always something to approach with a bit more circumspection. Don't get me wrong, big fan of the crazy ol' gal, it's just that I've found her solo output considerably less to my tastes than the wonderful Muses, finding it folkier, mellower, more introspective, and generally lacking the thrillingly ragged and jagged off-kilter punch that her band provides. Hence la Hersh's solo absence from my Dance Card for nearly 18 (!) years (since gig 501, the Empire in April 2001, in fact), until... it wasn't so much the fact that Kristin announced a gig at The Fleece that inticed me into booking tix for this one, more so the tagline... "Kristin Hersh, Live And Loud"... Loud? Hmmm, alright then, I’ll try some of that...

Fellow old school Muses fans Ady and Beef were up for it, and Stuart had a free evening so gave this a late call to join us, so it was vitrually the same line-up as last Thursday rocking down the M4 to Brizzle, this time in the Beef Buggy! Hit the venue at 7.30 doors - virtually the first in! - and chatted while the place filled up. Eventually the late-running support kicked off at 8.30, turning out to be Kristin's bassist Fred Abong doing a solo set. This meant a clutch of effects-dominated dour and dark little solo guitar ditties, followed by a swap to a fat acoustic and some more stripped-back, morose folky numbers. Short and snappy, and often finishing abruptly, the material was okayish, if somewhat samey, delivered at a swift pace by the throaty-vocalled and taciturn Fred. However, I wished that Laura Kidd's bid to get her band She Makes War on as tonight's support (which she mentioned to me last week at the Desperate Journalist gig) had been successful...

We kept our spots at the front as the diminutive Kristin, bedecked in floral dress and beetle-crusher boots, led her trio onstage at 9.30. I'd picked up Kristin's 2018 album "Possible Dust Clouds" for pre-gig research, and after a couple of goes through, I definitely wasn't going to file it under "Easy Listening"... harking back to that posr-Tanya Muses era, it's a collection of degenerate misfits of songs, overlaid with swathes of guitar reverb, delivered in a brutal, uncompromising hard rasp of a voice. Such was the case tonight, with opener "Lax" a bleak and bitter march, a more dour (dourer?) version of the Muses' "Counting Backwards", and an early double of the galloping and groovy "Mississippi Kite" and an excellent "Sunray Venus" from that last, sprawling Muses album, both delivered with venomous snarling vocals by Kristin, were highlights. Some nice early banter as well, as Kristin messed up the running order, blaming her set-list as it was written on a paper plate, then quipping, "we'd like to kill one goddamn tree [for some paper] before this tour is over!"

Unfortunately, "Your Ghost" was heavy-handed and jarring, lacking th bleak and haunting feel of the CD verion, and thereafter it all started to go a bit South for me, many of the numbers bleeding into one, and their interpretations doing them no favours tonight, many being heavily drum-dominated... Someone really needed to tell drummer Rob Ahlers that his kit was there to be played, not battered into noisy submission! It also didn't help that th stage remained very dimly lit throughout, a couple of blue scatter-lights offering scant visibility, so Kristin's usual head-bobbing intensity was lost in the crepuscular murk.

"Limbo" finally started to turn things around, set closer "Cuckoo" was a spooky backwoods Appalachian folk number recalling Cordelia's Dad (!), and the crunchy, wah-wah feedback drenched encore "Broke" (a 50 Foot Wave number, apparently, but one I have to confess I was unfamiliar with) ended a variable performance on a relative high. Various opinions on the gig in the car afterwards during an unimpeded drive home, not all of them in concert with my own, so all in all a real curate's egg of a performance from an unpredictable maverick. Overall, I'm glad that I reconnected with Kristin "live" tonight, but next time, and rather perversely, I might be more inclined to see her less "loud"... 

260 KRISTIN HERSH, Vic Chesnutt, Bristol St. Georges Hall, Thursday 24 March 1994

A total car-park mare for this venue; eventually had to park a 10 minute run from the gig (running because it was pissing it down). Yikes! The gig itself was an old church on the top of a hill - pews and all! Had a few beers in the cellar bar while support artiste Vic Chesnutt was on, then went upstairs and squatted down at the front for Kristin's set. Just her and a big ol' acoustic guitar, with occasional embellishment from a cellist, Kristin played a set based largely on her solo album "Hips And Makers", and delivered a musical tour de force. Stripped bare of the usual band, Kristin's true talent really shone through. A marvelously expressive and emotive set, mixed with a few humorous tales of motherhood ("big fat dog butt!" apparently being her young son Dylan's current catch-phrase. What is she bringing up?), and two encores revealing the reverence this crowd held her in. A 1 1/2 hour performance in total; cracking stuff, with an encore of the Muses classic, crackling "Cottonmouth" my personal highlight. Lovely!

485 KRISTIN HERSH, London Camden Underworld, Thursday 8 February 2001

Fourth gig of 4 in 7 days, and the pace finally told. Picked up an emotionally wrought Rachel after work; she'd been unwell during the morning but had shaken it off, seemingly by taking her motorbike proficiency test! I on the other hand had been shivering and chucking paracetemol down my neck all day. So, in these weakened states we ventured on, hitting Camden at 8 and parking up. By this time, however, Rach had taken a turn for the worse and I wasn't feeling too pukka myself. Got into the run-down underground Underworld and got a drink in, noting a cockroach crawling along the bar ("a paying customer," said the flippant barmaid) and sat down in the corridor, after noting that all available floor space and viewing space around the stairs and mixing desk in this very strangely shaped and poor sight-lined venue had already been taken.

Kristin came on at 9; she apologised for being, "in 1,000 comas," due to flu, heavy cold, jet lag and so on, and mentioned that she was struggling to, "do the chair thing," i.e. even sit down properly! We couldn't see squat, and, fading fast, retreated to our bench in the corridor, where Kristin's acoustic little beasts of songs, dark, shredding and mysterious, were sadly drowned out by people talking! Bah! What do you people come to gigs for, f'rchrissakes?

Made one last attempt to gain a vantage point, finding the steps to the floor barred by a bouncer, then took brief pix on the stairs whilst being jostled and elbowed. Kristin was playing a fine rendition of the Throwing Muses early classic "Rabbits Dying", but neither Rach nor I were in the mood, health or vantage point to enjoy any more. So at 9.45, we left and went home. Sorry Kristin. Next time?

501 KRISTIN HERSH, Stephen Hero, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Thursday 28 April 2001

Is the traffic madness finally calming down? Despite Beef turning up late to pick me up, and possible rumours of problems on the M4, we were parking at 7.20 just round the corner from Shepherd's Bush Green, after a journey time of just over 2 hours - just like old times! However, the night didn't continue in such a smooth vein; we got into the Empire to find seats set up in the normal stalls standing area, with our tickets - ordered early so we could be down the front - only good enough to stand around the bar area at the back of the stalls! Not happy about that, but despite my protestations to the box office about being misled by the ticket agency, we had to lump it. Bugger!

Anyway, we got good (as possible) vantage points on the steps leading up to the seated stalls area, making the best of it. Support Stephen Hero, on at 8, was an intriguing prospect - the hero in question was in fact Patrick Fitzgerald, former Kitchens Of Distinction mainman, plus an extra guitarist. The set was mighty fine, not too dissimilar from the glacially cool shimmering ice castles that were The Kitchens' stock in trade. Patrick's voice was as emotive and soaring as ever, which made for a beguiling mix of nostalgia and anticipation. Good to have him back!

Kristin, solo, joined us just after 9, having been delayed due to her 4 year old son Ryder mixing cocktails backstage! Her set, interspersed with a few offbeat laconic stories which suggest a possible alternative career as a raconteur, was largely based on fine new CD "Sunny Border Blue", an absorbing collection of tunes, if lower-key and mellower than the jagged mutant melodies of her Muses days. The highlights for me however were when Kristen delved back into those days, delivering "Delicate Cutters", "Hook In Her Head" and the excellently touching "Cottonmouth", revealing the stark beauty of the songs via these acoustic interpretations. A couple of encores, including the wonderfully haunting (!) "Your Ghost", capped a splendid set, which I'm glad I was well enough to hear this time! Shame about the ticket cock-up, though...
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