Erinn Williams/ Caroline Martin (Live Music)

26 October 2008

Caroline Martin/ Erinn Williams
St James Wine Vaults
Friday, October 24, 2008

Into the cozy and stylish cave that is St James Wine Vaults went I, to see Los Angeleno Erinn Williams, who, I was assured, was really different. And she was – but first things first: Caroline Martin.
I didn’t even know Caroline was playing tonight; I’d never seen her before but knew her name from reading Bristol press. I was smitten.
Of course, it takes a certain amount of weird to smite me, and Caroline has plenty. The word “minimal,” even overused as it is, does not do justice to these songs. I can’t really think of anything more sparse than this, not even Hope Sandoval and Mazzy Star. And like the teacher that speaks quietly so that the class has to shut up and listen, one listens to Caroline and her words.
This provides the greatest source of weird; her lyrics, like, say, Lucinda Williams, are simple, conversational, personal and womanly, but, unlike Lucinda, just that little bit detached from conventional reality to make you feel are in a strange dream. Her lyrics are comparable to Rennie Sparks’ in the way they occupy that dreamspace, but they are much more sparse than Rennie’s. Her singing – and, yes, she is a real singer, not just a poet – is as though Gillian Welch was actually on morphine.
It is really good stuff; it is art, and it is thoroughly refreshing to encounter some genuine art. Encounter it yourself.
Then came Erinn Williams, looking very American and very Los Angeles in her bright makeup and bright shiny hair. This means nothing, by the way; it should not be surprising that an American would look like an American.
If anyone was expecting some kind of vacuous happy music, they would very quickly have stood corrected. Erinn plays a Stratocaster through digital delay and looping boxes and has a lot of self-made loops stored as well. She is a veritable one-woman Edge in the guitar department.
This is impressive enough, but then she sings and – hold the horses, Molly – this is amazing. She very clearly has operatic training and equally clearly is not afraid to use it. With looped unnameable chords á la Joni Mitchell and a voice that can drill right into your brain like a laser theremin, this music means business.
Erinn is joined by a flautist whose name I did not get. It is an instrument that goes particularly well with this music and adds a bit of non-electronic embellishment that somehow softens it and makes it all more intimate.
The songs are not heavy on hooks, but succeed on mood and pure sonic exploration. Having said that, I don’t want to overdo the opera thing; much of the time Erinn sings in a normal, even breathy voice.
Erinn Williams inhabits territory that you’d find Kate Bush and Tori Amos wandering around in, but she is musically edgier than Tori and her mighty weapon of a voice is a lot less twee than Kate. In fact, she is the opposite of Kate, who looked Euro-sexy in layers of black, while Erinn looks light but sings – and plays – very heavy indeed.

Review by Charley.