Devendra Banhart - Kentish Town Forum, London - 8/11/07
3/5
By: Alex Pyper
Someone recently implored us to "live the dream like the eighties never happened". Man of the moment, Devendra Banhart, can help us do just that. Watching him play to this subdued yet clearly enthralled audience, one could not help but be transported back to a time of hope, free love and a lot of drugs.
For many, Devendra Banhart is the leading bearded face in a new hippy folk revival, collaborating with a wide range of artists and counting many celebrities amongst his already widespread fanbase. Indeed at the back of the gig there was the notable presence of 'those Mighty Boosh guys', on whom a steady stream of (mostly male) fans heaped drunken adulation. Add to this the recent release of his seventh album, and you get the picture of an accomplished artist, all at the tender age of 26.
As he sauntered on stage, the reception belied little of the intimacy the gig would enjoy. Like a circle around a campfire, those at the back had to strain their ears to pick out what he was saying during more softly spoken moments. The gently picked acoustic chords sat pleasingly atop the layered vocal harmonies of the band (the dubiously named Spiritual Bonerz - the 'z' is silent, apparently). At times the rich mellow sound became almost hypnotic, inviting the listener to get lost in its easy listening Eagles-esq texture. I even smelt a jazzy cigarette.
Amidst the sonic haze it was however possible to pick out one or two songs proper, the perpetually wonderful 'Heard Somebody Say' was like sitting down in a comfortable chair, before you turned on your telly only for it to be playing that "put me in your suitcase..." advert (that Devendra's 'At The Hop' acted as the soundtrack for). All well and good, but proceedings only peaked when one of DB's newer compositions, the epic 'Seahorse' from Smoke Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, reminded us that we were at a rock and roll show after all, and that it was potentially a very good one.
The evening progressed and acoustic guitars were swapped for their electric cousins. The band found their feet (literally) after their slow start and began to embrace a fuller sound, somewhat coming to life in front of the attentive listeners. However, Banhart's crew never really achieved a noticeable level of differentiation between songs, leaving an experience of them that whilst being soothing and pleasant, was somewhat flat - as if the gig never really got going.
Perhaps this is being overly critical of an act that is excellent at providing precisely what we're finding fault with - quirky yet soothing folk music. Perhaps to really comprehend, really understand, the music of our forbears we need to just embrace the haze of it. Don flares, get flowered shirt, grow a beard. Whatever it takes.
What is undisputed though, is that whilst we were provided with an entertaining glimpse of another era (far from all the man is capable of), this was ultimately the downfall: we got lost in a vague, apathetic mist of musical homogeneity. These days the ever-cynical listener has learnt to expect more from a performance - if not a recognition that the eighties did actually happen, then at least reasons why they shouldn't have.
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