Laura Marling - Union Chapel, London - 9/3/08
4/5
By: Michael Cragg
Much has been made of Reading-based folk singer Laura Marling's age, as if someone who's only just turned 18 shouldn't really be allowed to be so eloquent or so mature. Yet her debut album, Alas, I Cannot Swim is both those things and more, it's an album that combines the sorrow of Joni Mitchell with the dark humour of Bonnie "Prince" Billy. Critically lauded upon its release a few months ago, Marling now finds herself playing the beautiful, ornate Union Chapel, a stone's throw from the bustling, slightly grim Islington High Street.
The outside world, however, seems a million miles away as Marling slips unnoticed onto the makeshift stage, her newly cropped blonde hair and skinny jeans making her look like any other fashion conscious teenager. It's an oddly jarring sight to see her standing in front of such elaborate gothic architecture and at first she herself seems slightly overwhelmed as she starts a solo version of 'Shine'. The song is politely received and Marling shuffles back from the microphone with her head down, very much the surly teenager, but as her band stream in from stage right she becomes visibly more comfortable.
What follows is forty minutes or so of beautifully constructed music, the band bringing to life Marling's fragile songs as if played for the first time. 'Ghosts' begins as a gentle strum before building to as close to a crescendo as the walls of the Union Chapel will allow, Marling pleading "Lover please do not/ Fall to your knees/ It's not like I believe in everlasting love". From here the album is played pretty much in order, with Marling's beguiling voice at the centre of everything. During 'Tap At My Window' she sounds at first heartbroken and beaten, but as the delicate strings glide behind her and the band join in her voice takes on a new strength, culminating in the line "I will not have him treat me this way". It's stirring stuff and the crowd begin to move from polite reverence (the venue kind of demands it) to rapturous applause. By the time 'Cross Your Fingers' segues into the sea shanty of 'Crawled Out Of The Sea' people are swaying and shuffling along the wooden pews.
After a perfect 'My Manic And I' and an appropriately gothic 'Night Terror' come to a close, Marling gives a little speech about how she thinks it's corny to go off stage at the end of a show only to come straight back on again for an encore. She tells us her and her band won't be doing that; they'd rather just play on. Perhaps annoyed that they won't be given a chance to fully express how much they want her to play on, the crowd break out into spontaneous applause, the extent to which visibly shocks the band who turn to each other with massive grins on their faces. So it is that after album closer, the fragile lament of 'Your Only Doll (Dora)', the band end with an extended version of group sing-along (and a hidden track on the album) 'Alas, I Cannot Swim'. As a reward for the crowd's enthusiasm the band finish the song, pause for a few seconds and then launch straight back into the final chorus, Marling leaving us with the apt line, "Work more, earn more, live more, have more fun". As the song comes to an end the applause is deafening but Marling offers only a short goodbye before fleeing the stage as quickly as she arrived. She may have made an album of mature, literate folk - but she's still only 18 remember.
Artists in this article: Laura Marling
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