Goldfrapp: duality bites
Alison Goldfrapp has got duality down. Her voice soaring over the Brixton Academy, the sublime sound of Utopia lifted us into the ether; the poet in all of us recognising a semi-operatic appeal to our finer sensibilities. As they dipped into the more recent Seventh Tree, it was the sound of a band finding themselves. In Bookpacking’s humble estimation it’s a masterpiece, and the strings and harps did it full justice tonight. Two stunning dancers in pure white threw flowers into the crowd in a psychedelic-solstice celebration.
But no-one can be all good, all the time. Dressed in glam-clown black, Alison slipped back over the wrong side of the tracks for a little electro naughtiness. The vamp was back as their trademark dirty synth turned the heat up. Like a platonic pub meeting with an ex, it had only been a matter of time - and a few drinks - before you just couldn’t help yourself. “Ooh La La” pounded its way through any inhibitions and a static crowd finally cut loose.
The curvaceous dancers had abandoned their white dresses; now it was the sinister sexiness of bikinis with wolves’ heads masks. As the relentless riff of Train whipped the audience steadily into a frenzy, it was only ever going to end one way. Inexorably, we worked our way up to an intense Strict Machine climax: a shower of ticker tape raining down on a writhing front row.
Goldfrapp may have turned over a new leaf, but when it gets late, this leopard can’t hide its spots.