When
Mick Harvey and band opt to perform a semi-instrumental version of
Je T'aime...Moi Non Plus towards
the end of a set of Serge Gainsbourg translations topromote Harvey's
newly released fourth volume of Gainsbourg covers, Intoxicated
Women,
it's a bit different from the version played in London the night
before.
Then,
Harvey duetted with German chanteuse Andrea Schroeder in her native
language translated as Ich liebe
dich...ich dich auch nicht.
With Schroeder unable to make the Edinburgh visit for this show
curated by Summerhall's Nothing Ever
Happens Here operation,
Harvey opted not to draft in guitarist and co-vocalist Xanthe Waite
as what might have seemed an obvious stand-in. “She's my niece,”
deadpans Harvey regarding her absence, “and that would've been
wrong.”
Such a trifle
probably wouldn't have stopped Gainsbourg from doubling up on one
ofthe most erotically charged numbers ever committed to vinyl.
Harvey's actions nevertheless sum up how surprisingly well-adjusted
the former long-time collaborator of Nick Cave and others from the
Australian post-punk diaspora, as well as P.J. Harvey, remains after
almost forty years in the saddle. As de facto musical director of the
Bad Seeds, his textured arrangements didn't always receive the credit
they deserved, however key they were to that band's inherent
melodrama.
With
the roots of such low-key artfulness all over Intoxicated
Women and
its preceding three volumes, live too, Harvey makes Gainsbourg's
canon his own. This was the case despite the band's instruments
getting left behind at Gatwick Airport along with Harvey's lyric
book.
Harvey
charms his way out of this with dry politesse, as he does throughout
a set that begins with him on bongos crooning about the 'little
holes' in The
Ticket Puncher.
Waite joins Harvey, keyboardist James Johnston, German bass player
Yoyo Rohm, drummer Toby Dammit and a locally sourced all-female
string quartet for 69
Erotic Year. The
intricate interplay between male and female exchanges has always been
key to Gainsbourg, both between his characters and the singers
themselves, and here Waite provides a more strident counterpoint to
Harvey's passive croon.
Waite
takes the lead on the gallop through Puppet
of Wax, Puppet of Song and
the roaring bounce of Harley
Davidson,
and spars with precision on Bonnie
and Clyde and
an exquisite Don't
Say A Thing.
Elsewhere the set is peppered with latin exotica, bump n' grind and
groovy nightclub lasciviousness aplenty among the concentrated
intensity.
Hearing
the songs in English gives them a vigorous immediacy lent weight and
propulsion by the strings. When Je
T'aime...Moi Non Plus eventually
comes around, that and Initials
B.B.
which follows it are revealed as perverse and subversive romances
from a more innocent age. As Harvey proves in this most intimate of
Sunday night affairs, the poetry of the profane which Gainsbourg
channelled is full of light as much as shade.
Product, March 27th 2017
ends
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