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Review: One Leg One Eye, the Cube – ‘Eerie and electrifying’
Less than a week after the incomparable RÓIS gig, here we are again at the Cube for more experimental Irish doom folk.
This evening it is Ian Lynch of Lankum fame with his project One Leg One Eye. It’s another sweltering evening, and the Cube is packed to the rafters.
Ewen MacIntyre opens the evening with unaccompanied traditional songs interspersed with the stories that engendered them. He sits in a chair placed off-stage, off-centre, signalling perhaps that he wants the songs to take up more space than he does himself.
His songs and stories roam the highlands and lowlands of Ireland and Scotland, exploring the languages and landscapes, how they bear the scars of colonial and systemic violence.
The first song is associated with the days of penal laws in Ireland when, he says “it was illegal to do most things people enjoyed” including Mass, which people would celebrate secretly at a natural altar of rock in the landscape.
The song is a coded message, a symbol of solidarity and an act of resistance against the English.
With traditional song, MacIntyre draws parallels between social injustices of the past and present
When he speaks to offer his considerable insight about the songs he has chosen his voice is soft, sometimes barely audible. But when he sings every note is clear, beautiful, and he seems transported. He closes his eyes and the songs pour from him.
Ahead of the third song, written during the Famine in Ireland, MacIntyre explains it is the story of a man who walks to a workhouse miles away from his home in the hope of finding food for his family.
He’s denied aid, and his wife and children die as he is walking back: “Maybe you can use your imagination to think of another place where people are being denied what they need.” And it is fitting that there is a keffiyeh draped behind him on stage across Lynch’s instruments.
Spirited Followers’ barrage sits in stark contrast to the power of minimalist approach that precedes and follows them, and they are plagued with technical difficulties
Spirited Followers seem anomalous to tonight’s programme. On paper they’re a good fit – genre defying, experimental, strong elements of folk – but it is a barrage of disparate sounds that never quite find a way to come together.
There are interesting elements, such as the singer’s voice rooted in the Indian classical tradition, but the busy-ness of the orchestration doesn’t leave room for it to breathe. They seem to experience some unfortunate technical issues, but even more unfortunate is that they interrupt the flow from MacIntyre to Lynch.
Ian Lynch, founding member of Mercury Prize nominated Irish outfit Lankum, dives deeper into the dark mysteries of nature, landscape and musical heritage with this new project
Finally, the much anticipated One Leg One Eye take to the stage in front of projected images of the sacred landscapes that MacIntyre has heralded. Rivers, mountains, moss flicker in front of us, but this is far from a romanticised version of the landscape. There are indistinct primordial visions, things best left half buried in our subconscious.
The building electronic drone coupled with Lynch’s uillean pipes produces the kind of bass that shakes the solar plexus. Field recordings cut across each other, building to a calamitous confusion of noise and a deep sense of unease.
A repeated refrain, “Wherever you go, men will turn their faces from you”, adds to the sense of claustrophobia.
Then it all stops and it’s just Lynch, alone, singing Bold and Undaunted Youth. His plaintive voice fills the auditorium with yearning and sorrow, and before long the uneasy drone returns, foreshadowing the violent demise of the song’s protagonist.
The oppressive heat of the evening and the deep drone induce a trance-like state in audience and band alike. People are slumped in their seats and Lynch’s bandmate seems to struggle to keep his eyes open as he sways rhythmically to the repeating phase.
The drone is pulsing now, like blood rushing in your ears, somewhere between a migraine and euphoria. A recording of WB Yeats’ Second Coming emerges from the morass.
As we approach the end, “slouching towards Bethlehem”, the visuals and audio are in sync for the first time – a seascape and crashing waves soothe, and carry us towards the denouement.
There’s a burst of enthusiastic applause, but Lynch won’t be drawn yet, and stays hunched over his pedals riding out the last few receding waves, before standing and finally acknowledging the audience.
Watching this show at the Cube is a powerful, visceral and intimate experience
Eerie and electrifying, One Leg One Eye plucks at those strands of darkness ever-present in traditional folk and lets them unspool to their full potential.
The cocoon of the Cube was the perfect venue to unleash this awesome chaos, and even the heat seemed to work in Lynch’s favour, making the experience all the more visceral.
All this was anchored so brilliantly by Ewen MacIntyre’s more traditional but no less powerful approach to the raw material.
I heard tell there was a wait-list of over 70 for tonight. One Leg One Eye will surely be playing a bigger venue next time, so we’re lucky to catch them here in such an intimate setting.
With apologies to those of you who wanted to be here. You missed a treat.
All images: Lucy Langley-Palmer
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