Will review properly in day or two.

Setlist:

First half:
'Ys' from start to finish, backed by fair-sized part of Sydney Symphony Orchestra - except 'Sawdust and Diamonds', performed solo.

Second half (with two band members):
Bridges and Balloons
Book of Right On
Colleen
New song
Peach Plum Pear
Clam Crab Cockle Cowrie
New song (solo)

Encore:
Sadie (solo)
Inflammatory Writ (Western swing version, Grog! - with band members)

utterly, utterly beautiful

She really is something special isn't she?

I have few regrets about leaving Sydney.
But sometimes I feel like I am missing out.

I travelled from central Victoria! How far is Jervis Bay from Sydney? :nahnah:

I actually wondered if you were going to be there - was looking out for a Fall t-shirt attached to a Sunderland accent :)

I had no idea it was even on!

I am becoming a hermit.

However, Mrs Divvey suggested that now the kids are bigger we should be watching the press more often to use the out-laws in Sydney for hotel & childcare.

Not that she's have come to this show, Mrs Divv hates JN with a passion.

Look around you Divvey, I'm sure you've gained a hell of a lot more than you've lost.
We moved away for a coupla years and the missus had to enlist the help of a pack of wild brumbies to get me back here.
Having said that, I did take our kid down to the Opera House forecourt for her first big gig the other night - Bjork.
Brill evening as much for the setting as the lightshow/music. Spectacular.
Fact is when you live here you seldom get to go out and really enjoy the city, you're so busy working yer ring out trying to survive in it. If you can dip in and out, take what you want and then go, that's gotta be good.
Anyway looking forward to your review ADR.
:rolleyes:

Review please adr :)

When I get back to Melbourne tonight.
Was going to do it last night, but was disturbed by my cousin (who I'm staying with in Sydney) taking his wife to hospital to have twins, whilst I looked after his son!
Welcome Alanah and Murray :beer: :applaud:

however ...

Whilst waiting for the news from the hospital I browsed the net.

Found a couple of photos of the performance on Flikr, captioned, "I love her so much it's embarrassing".

I will strive for some sort of objectivity in my review, for the sake of interest and readability and nausea-control - but the truth is, all I really want to do is gush and rave and rant about how much I love her. :ohdear:

I travelled to Sydney to see Joanna Newsom for the first time under a balloon buoyed by those notoriously unstable gases, Hope and Expectation. But, being who I am, I travelled clutching the Plug of Pragmatism; ready, at any point, to let the air out and gently lower myself to the ground. Because the ground is where I should be, where we all should be, right? Right?

This form of travel is not unusual for me, either in my personal love-life or my musical love-life. At times of emptiness and yearning, I have loved people because I wanted to love someone and I have been obsessed by bands because I wanted to have that intensity of feeling.

Some of these loves that I created in my heart turned out to be worthwhile, fulfilling and meaningful relationships. Some turned out to be emptier than the vacuum I was trying to fill. Please don't mention The Smiths.

And the yearning for exciting musical experiences is especially true of my life in Australia. I was trying to remember the last gig I went to that I felt genuinely excited by (it would have been The Necks, shimmering improvisational trance-jazz). I so miss the intensity of seeing truly great, original, mind-spinning music created live. I miss being passionate about these things.

So I've enjoyed my passionate embrace of Joanna Newsom's music on CD, I've enjoyed 'hearing myself' rave about her to others, sharing her music with others and seeing them taken in and caught up in her spell; enjoyed discovering a work colleague is, unexpectedly, a fan.

But in Sydney, I also wondered whether this passion was another bit of wishful thinking, or, more accurately, wishful loving on my part. My heart feels so full nowadays – the grief of not enough time with my son – it is looking for someone, something to empty itself through. I am cynical about my heart's motives, and so reign myself in, ready to pull the Plug and, as I said, 'let myself down gently'.

Having said all this, the setting of the concert did nothing to deflate the Hope and Expectation balloon. It’s a long time since I’ve been inside the Opera House, and was excited to realise once again what an extraordinarily majestic and magical structure it is. We waited for the performance in a foyer that felt as if it were suspended over Sydney harbour.

But still: we took our seats we applauded the orchestra, the conductor, the band members, and cheered Joanna, and still, right up to the point of her singing her first note, I found myself rationalising that at very least, this would be a ‘nice’ experience, a pleasant recital of songs known and loved, songs she has sung and toured for two to three years now, songs she would dutifully repeat for us, and it would be like listening to the CDs only with her in front of me.

And that idiotic perception lasted until, oooh, about halfway through the word ‘meadowlark’, when the reins of pragmatism and cynicism dissolved in my hands and my soul was allowed to soar and soar, and now, three days later, it's still up there somewhere, in the rafters of the concert hall.

She was incandescent from that first line. Incandescent. So utterly, utterly present to her songs, singing from within the song, being sung by the song. And as 'Emily' progressed I realised I had never heard this song properly before, had never heard it at all really, and this was true of all of ‘Ys’. This night, I heard it for the first time, and I ‘got it’. The cycle. The pain the redemption. I have now heard 'Ys'! As I type, my throat becomes thick.

Of course, I didn’t ‘get it’ in any way I can explain, or relate to the words – it was a purely sensory, emotional realisation.

There was a full two seconds complete silence after 'Emily' finished, before the wild applause – and I didn't feel it was a conscious 'respectful' silence, no, we were silenced by awe, there was a moment when I could have thought, 'What can anyone do in response to that?'. And applause is the only answer, even 'tho inadequate, after a second or so.

The orchestra and the arrangements were vital (I also 'get' that aspect of 'Ys'!). I saw some review that called the orchestration a 'pretentious confection' or some such rubbish. The songs are epic and grand, they are made full by the orchestral support. The extra instruments were especially powerful in highlighting the changing rhythms and time signatures of the songs – the 'oh, my darling' passage in 'Monkey and Bear' rollicked along, as did the end of 'Only Skin' with the massed strings and brass accompaniment.

'Sawdust and Diamonds' was performed solo, with a fragility that was almost painful. Yet there is no pathos present, and she is not fey, does not ask to be pitied or cared for. Her pain is hers, shared only with the sparrow. And it's an angry song too, I hadn't realised before, strong, self-determined.

At the end of 'Sawdust', the young emo guy sitting next to me was making small 'oh, oh, oh' sounds, and gently rubbing his chest. I turned to him and smiled and said, 'it's almost too much, isn't it?'. A woman along the row seemed frozen sitting forward, fingertips to lips, hands in prayer position. Seeing her made me realise that had been how I was sitting. And then ...!

'Only Skin'. An epic journey. Did I breath once during the sixteen minutes? Certainly not at the end, her high melodies cascading down over the timpani. Such exquisite beauty.

Cosmia – the balm, the healing balm.

A break: I was relieved. People milling about in the foyer, still slightly stunned.

She had told us that Part Two would be older and newer songs, with just her band members (percussionist/high vocal harmonies, and dobro/banjo player). Prior to witnessing what I had just witnessed, this is what I would have been looking forward to the most. But now, in the interval, I was slightly worried the intensity could deflate with jukebox numbers.

But no! 'Bridges and Balloons' was a gorgeous interpretation, slightly different timing to the CD, and sung so, so softly (throughout the whole concert her voice was way, way up the mix, which allowed her to sing without need for projection, which created an intense intimacy), eschewing even the onomatopoeia of 'caw and claw' to really sing the words themselves. Likewise 'Book of Right On', 'Peach Plum ...' (dobro opening). Each song so alive, as if sung for the first time. The aching melodies of 'Clam Crab Cockle Cowrie'

And yes, Grog, the Western swing version of 'Inflammatory Writ' to finish, after a solo 'Sadie'.

I've said enough for now. There were two new songs (new to me), one very traditional and one more epic and sprawling, with an extraordinary wordless sung outro. She is, I haven't yet said, mesmerising to watch (hey CryptoM: I had great tickets! Box to the right of the stage, I could see her face perfectly through the harp strings!), the way she twists her mouth to hold back on that wild horse of a voice, the jerks and nods and absolute physical involvement in her singing.

There: a paean to my night with Joanna.

Was it real? Are love and beauty real?

Yes.

of course that doesn't mak eme feel any better.

Lovely revue ADR, worthy of print.
Thanks.

Excellent review ADR, you are much more eloquent than I could ever be.

Mrs Grog, like yourself I feel, didn’t really take to Ys straight away and much preferred The Milk Eyed Mender, but then we witnessed the live show at the Barbican and now she much prefers the second album. Especially Only Skin, which is one of her favourite tracks of all time.

A couple of trainspotterish questions if I may.

Did she do Colleen from the Ys Street Band EP? If you don’t know it, it’s a slightly celtic sounding song with strange yelps that cause her to throw her head back. It is probably my second favourite track from 2007 (only Fall Sound topped it).

Who sang the male piece in Only Skin? Was it one of her other musicians, or were you treated to the great Bill Callahan?

Superb review ADR.
I applaud your powers of expression and your ability to relate your experience with such honesty and clarity.
Well done.
(Can't find the applauding smiley so this'll have to do instead!)
:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

Hi Grog

Yes, Colleen was there and was giddy and wonderful, sounding more epic than the EP version, I think it was just the occasion!. And the male vocals throughout were ably provided by the percussionist, Neil - lovely falsetto.

Bill Callaghan is 'Smog', right?

He certainly is.

Here is another review

And apparently the final song of the main set was a 'new' song she has been touring for a while, 'Esame'.

Beautiful and affecting review there pal, takes me back to a muddy field last summer.

I think that the other song you don't know is probably Caw the Yaws to the Noes (spelt wrongly), a traditional Scottish song she's been playing a lot. You'll get a few copies of this shortly.

Like I said in the other thread I'm kind of glad she's talking of retiring these songs as their impact can only lessen if played for many years live in the future, and seem a perfect expression of a time and feeling for me. Also they are incredibly emotional songs as you point out and they can surely only be sinscere for so long.

Thank you for the appreciative noises about the review. I haven't written anything like that for quite some time, so it felt good for me to follow it through. :)

Anyway, here is a gratuitous JN picture to cheer us all, taken (I'm told) at rehearsal for the Sydney show (she was asked to play a bit without the mike stand for the photgraphers):

I've not seen her live, but have Milk Eyed Mender. It's... a world unto itself indeed. It's the kind of thing I listen to while pretending it doesn't exist, so as to go somewhere where I not only don't matter, but don't exist... It's too easy to mock, but that was apparent to me when I first heard it... It is just outside it all; I don't care to critisize her, I just let it wash over me. Far from a fan, I do appreciate her work. Kind of a Lynchian experience listening to her- my mind creates all sorts of absurd, disconnected, and adrift scenerios that it is prone to anyway, but is affected particularly nonetheless; it is the weirdness of the voice and instrumentation that carry me.

She's weird theatre in sound. I dig that kind of thing.