Ladytron
Astoria Theatre, London
THE words “Astoria Theatre” and “neglected old dump” are generally agreed not to sit incongruously in a sentence together. So it was not altogether surprising when, towards the end of Ladytron’s concert, a mixing desk packed up and the rest of the gig had to be abandoned. “We’re probably as gutted as you are”, vocalist Mira Aroyo told the unhappy crowd. At least by then the Liverpool-based four-piece had delivered 10 songs and treated the audience to a taste of their new album.
Critics like to use words such as “industrial”, “robotic” and “stark” to describe their (mostly) unashamedly angular yet accessible sound; the logical climax of this was probably an NME review of 2001 calling them “Kraftwerk by way of ABBA”. But maybe the hard edges are beginning to soften with the release of Velocifero, out next month. The album marks another step change in Ladytron’s sound, which has grown subtly over the past decade. The warm, homespun analogue sounds of 604 gave way to lush and seductive synth-pop in Light & Magic, whose single “Seventeen” (featuring the angst-inducing lines: “They only want you when you’re seventeen/When you’re twenty-one/You’re no fun”) helped make Ladytron’s name; then came 2005’s Witching Hour, its dark, thundering tracks and gloomy lyrics matched to Helen Marnie’s entrancing vocals.
Tonight, the band have a new set of synthesisers (bought on eBay by keyboardist Reuben Wu four months ago, according to my source) to match their new album. The photogenic Marnie and Aroyo, reprising their role as cover art for several albums, take the limelight on stage while Wu and Daniel Hunt lurk in the shadows, a spartan stage set of fluorescent tubes behind them. As usual with their live performances, two extras – a bass player and drummer – are on hand to beef up the sound.
Without warning, the band launch into their set with “Black Cat”, one of the new songs, featuring a forbidding Bulgarian chant from Aroyo (whose contract apparently bars the girl from singing solos in English). Barely has it started to sink in for those of us unfamiliar with the new work when they reach a high point with another Velocifero track, “Ghosts”. Guitars jangle, fluorescent tubes flash and Marnie’s unmistakable, ululating voice pierces the smoke: “There’s a ghost in me/Who wants to say “I’m sorry”/Doesn’t mean I’m sorry”. Although the other new songs (“Runaway”, “System of Illusions”, “I’m Not Scared”) are still quite impressive, they struggle to make themselves understood over the Astoria’s ageing sound system, while the Ladytron trademark of endlessly repeating closing lines, great for club music, doesn’t work so well on stage.
But who cares? Not me, when you’ve got such terrific songs as “High Rise”, “Seventeen” and the menacing “Soft Power”. It’s a steely constitution that isn’t chilled by Marnie’s dystopian line “We’re not sleeping at the wheel/The wheel is turning the machine/That kills/For us”. I’m sure there would have been other classics had the mixing desk not blown.
If Witching Hour felt like hurtling down an autobahn in a sports car, Velocifero is more of a trek across a field in a storm. Ladytron have done well to grapple with its more complex sound in a difficult venue. And with their masterly synth work – now glacial, now downright weird – and Marnie’s heavenly voice, they can’t go far wrong.
René Lavanchy
