Lowry Theatre, Manchester 
Monday 20 Oct 2008

The stage was carefully littered with an assortment of instruments that would not look out of place in a French bistro, as the audience was ushered in to the Lowry Theatre to witness what was billed as, “a meeting place between musicians and between songwriting traditions…where Kurt Weill bumps into Tom Waits, where Nino Rota…rubs shoulders with a slow gypsy waltz.” Not just another regurgitation of Pinter’s The Homecoming then. As eight disparate figures took to the stage all in smart black dress, each arming themselves with their preferred instrument, be it a microphone, electric guitar or harmonium, (no, me neither), the audience got the feeling that they were about to see something special. And they weren’t wrong.

As the band waltzed their way through violinist Joe Townsend original instumental composition Gypsy Tango, the operatically-trained vocalist sat on a bar stool and smiled enigmatically about the audience. This created a sense of intimacy so acute that it was all the male members of the audience could do to restrain themselves from asking to buy her a drink. (She is very pretty.) Jessica Walker then led her band of men (and one woman) through nine Waitsian songs that soared, whispered, howled and echoed through the wonderful acoustics at the Lowry, including Waits favourite Innocent When You Dream, which was so good she offered it again at the end as a reprise. Walker’s beautiful trills and piercing shrieks were in stark contrast to Waits’ raw, whisky ravaged groans, but could not have melded better with the tone and lyrics of his songs.

It wasn’t just the vocalist that got to show off her extraordinary talent; every member of the band got a chance in the spotlight, especially during the second half of the show when Waits songs were interspersed with traditional numbers and Weill’s What Keeps Mankind Alive? The charismatic pianist tinkled in Waitsian fashion during slower, bluesy numbers, while the guitarist noodled effortlessly around Walker’s melodies. However, the unsung star of the show had to be the percussionist, Simon Allen, who teased and bashed out complex rhythms with the most unusual style; at one point he began playing a musical saw, with a violin bow clamped between his teeth.

If this all sounds very baroque and dramatic it was because it was supposed to be; Waits’ songs are tales of heartbreak, loss, intoxication and romance, everything good theatre should be. In keeping with the theatrical tone, the fourth wall was never directly breached until the end, when the band took their bows and beamed at the audience knowing that they had done the old troubadour proud.

David Harfield