Last time Patrick Watson played in Leuven was two years ago, when he and his band opened for the “Cold War Kids”, which, even at that time, was an under-employment for them. His 2006 album Close To Paradise was critically acclaimed, on top of being crowned with the prestigious Polaris Music Prize, and even more so actually worth all the given applause. Watson ended his brilliant set of two years ago at the Depot with a song performed a capella, standing on a chair in the middle of the audience and directing this audience, which couldn’t help but sing along. It was a clear case of the opening act stealing the entire show.

This time there was no chance for this to happen. Supporting band Yuko (from Brussels/Ghent) seemed to have brought good ingredients, yet the dish was insipid. The marks of their illustrious role-models are evident in their music, but Yuko definitely needs to start making something interesting out of the heap of patches they’ve collected. Being a bad composer isn’t a hopeless situation if one can compensate it with good arrangements and performance, but unfortunately Yuko’s music leaves a lot to be desired in all these aspects.

Watson made his appearance on the stage in a characteristic hype manner and launched a piece of contrasting mood: a dim soundscape showcasing his velvety voice, which moved aptly from middle to higher registers. Apart from the other three permanent band-members, Watson brought along an all-female string quartet, which blended in nicely with Robbie Kuster’s hollow-sounding, tribal percussion and Watson’s dark-cabaret piano. For his latest album ‘Wooden Arms’, Watson appropriated Philip Glass’ penchant for brisk arpeggi and droning chords, and while they sounded eerie and sometimes alarming in Glass’ music, Watson coats them in grotesqueness. In ‘Beijing’, however, the clockwork rush of arpeggi reconstitutes the giddy atmosphere of the swarming city, together with Kuster’s throbbing drums. The live version of this song contained an intermezzo during which the strings, the rhythm section, and the keyboards engaged in a little game of imitation, after which they blended together in a flamboyant finale.

The set was dominated by tracks from ‘Wooden Arms’, which sounded predictably well live, with no face-changing arrangements. Only ‘Down At The Beach’, the most whimsical piece on the album, was fattened up with even more noise, which made it harder to follow and enjoy. Few of the old pieces made it into the set, among which ‘Luscious Life’, ‘The Great Escape’, and an energized version of ‘Storm’. At the end of 1h 25m, Watson announced ‘Where the wild things are’, written with the eponymous tale in mind (though not included on the soundtrack of Spike Jonze’s fresh adaptation). The artist added that it also happened to be the final piece of their set: ‘Yeah, I don’t know how that happened’, he said disingenuously. The encore, though, was quick to follow. Again, Watson made his way through the audience, this time with a bizarre light installation strapped to his back, hovering above his head, and sang two quiet songs, each with a part for the audience. Thrilled by the applause and the cheering, Watson came back to do one more song, after which the lights signaled the final good bye.

Compared to last time, Watson seemed more self-conscious and composed, though by no means a boring presence. In general, there’s been a cutback on fillers to the benefit of substance. His addiction to sound effects shows a pleasing regress. Let’s say it: the noise generator was a facile way to create atmosphere, and it’s good to feel the mood emanate from actual music rather than from background sounds. |