This was a show, I think, that meant something different to everyone who saw it, but I can't imagine that anyone who was there could have not responded to the music in some meaningful way. Actually with me was a rag-tag and fun posse -- it went like this: ages ago, Ruth mentioned that she and a friend (one Kate) were seeing the show and asked if I was interested; I was interested and spread the word to others (Swee Leng, Meribah and Romesh saying 'aye'); later still, mentioned it to Jarrod and some of the other ACs (Nicolette + friend Natalie, and Patrick, coming along); on the night, Romesh was ill so I passed his ticket on to Keith -- and I'm pretty sure that everyone was feeling it (along with the rest of the crowd if the general enthusiasm, atmosphere and demand for more was anything to go by).
Well, I definitely felt it. I hadn't heard much of Breut's stuff before last night - just a couple of songs here and there, and occasionally as background music at various parties, etc - but it swept me up from the very first song. The setup was neat - Françoiz, tall and thin, dark hair whimsically arranged and resplendent in black dress, at the microphone, guitarist plugged in and seated at a modified drumkit, backing track spinning on vinyl between them - and the music captivating from the first number, broody and light at the same time, shadowy and whimsical, rainy-day (or night) and prettily winsome. She sang mostly in French (sometimes, charmingly, proffering a translation before starting), with a few songs partly or fully in English and one in Spanish, mostly in a husky sing-song but sometimes reaching for and finding higher notes and lines, especially when doing harmonies, standing at the microphone and seeming to give herself to each song, swaying, leaning, gesturing, from time to time stepping briefly away to circle, shimmy and handclap when the instrumental breakdowns came in; between numbers, she smiled and basically charmed the audience every step of the way (right down to sitting on the stage after the show to talk to people and sign things).
What little I'd heard before the show had led me to expect something like a cross between Françoise Hardy and Mazzy Star with a dash of torch, and that didn't prove to be a mile off the mark (one of the songs I recognised, "Le Premier Bonheur Du Jour", was, of course, made famous by Hardy), though nor was it entirely accurate, even to the extent that these awkward musical analogies ever are. There was definitely a strong 60s influence, taking in both the sweetness-shaded-by-angst of the French girl singers of the time (instrumentation including, at various points, one of those mouth keyboard things the real name of which no one knows but whose mournful clarinet-type sound is instantly recognisable (Isobel Campbell uses it to great effect on Amorino), miniature xylophone, sundry other percussion, and programmed beats and sampled orchestral swoops on the backing track) and the early rock n roll garage clatter and clangour created by clean, straight up electric guitar and basic drumkit played in tandem (downstrokes of the guitar often falling on the same beat as the cymbals, that kind of thing). Fittingly, then, songs generally short but, as they say, perfectly formed.
...which is all just so much circling around the main point, which is that the concert was quite the lovely and delightful experience.
* * *
Support had earlier been provided by Dave Graney and Clare Moore (along with a third whose name escapes me) who were obviously an act worth taking in in their own right; they were pretty good, and I liked the showmanship, but I wasn't really paying attention and what I caught didn't especially grab me.
