In general I am not a fan of spoken word but Kate Tempest in
my exception. There is something about her manner, the way she is fierce and
timid at the time that makes me want to hear her, to understand her stories and
connect with her. One of the first things she says on stage before revealing
any of her material is that she doesn’t want to pretend the audience is not there,
like they do in theatre. She wants to break down the fourth wall…and my God,
she does.
With a four-piece band; tuba, violin, cello and percussion
accompanying her, she engrosses the audience from the start with rousing beats weaving
through her words, both gritty and humorous. I lost count of the times I could
feel myself losing control of my emotions. There are parallels with Willy
Russell’s Blood Brothers in Kate Tempest’s tale of two half-brothers growing up
in London but even so I found myself needing to know how life panned out for
these two boys. Even with the music, the haze effects and fluorescent lighting,
Kate’s voice is the central focus throughout. And when she takes a step back to
give us a moment to ponder on what she’s told us so far, letting the band fill
the room with their sound, it feels as though her voice is the missing piece.
Halfway through there is a shift in mood. The humour becomes
less apparent and the performance takes a darker, more gruesome turn. Still, Kate
manages to keep this disturbing tale from spiralling into the melodramatic with
the rap and sing-song storytelling she does so well. The atmosphere Kate
creates is almost other-worldly and when the lights dimmed to black, the
auditorium, filled to the rafters with punters, remained eerily quiet. As
though everyone was holding their breath, hoping for more.
