James Morrison – Live @ The Vogue

Concert Reviews • Thursday May 14th, 2009 • 1:47 pm

A tender Tuesday night saw UK soul singer James Morrison tucking himself and an outsized band, singers, and a few hundred of his new best friends into Indianapolis’s historic Vogue theater for a frenetic set fit for a Brit-pop prince.

The house packed – on the dance floor, at the tables, and on the balconies – the 24-year-old, already a master of blue-eyed soul, put on an indefatigable display of sweaty showmanship and lovesick-lyric-spitting technique.

Morrison opened with “The Only Night,” lead-off track from his latest, Songs For You, Truths For Me. A brass-infested treat on record, the song lost none of its power live sans horns. This was largely due to the singer’s presentation: James Morrison flat-out sells whatever he sings. As one onlooker noted aloud, the fellow seems to have nary an ounce of pretentiousness in him.

Indeed, homey got soul. Allegedly the result of an infant bout of whooping cough, Morrison’s Lord-given cords are distinct and raspy and inviting at once. As proved on this night, they go the distance to boot. His voice was in top form from start to finish, hoarse in the best way.

Hardly without his trusty axe during the hour-and-a-half set, Morrison and company mostly played out, with precious little banter between songs. “I’m not lost – not lost! – just undiscovered,” he exclaimed on “Undiscovered,” from his first of two discs to date.

That statement won’t hold much weight for long, if it has for some time. With the ensuing “Broken Strings,” on record a fairly glossy duet with the ever-evolving Nelly Furtado, Morrison’s found crossover (if not jump-the-shark) success. Mind you, that’s “crossover” as in bending genres and skipping over oceans both. Here’s a guy can waltz on water.

“The older I get, the more that I know,” Morrison intoned on “This Boy.” Simply put, he sounds (and writes) beyond his two-dozen years. And why shouldn’t he? He’s got a life mate and a darling young daughter now. If Songs For You revealed a relatively wizened man and performer compared to the wide-eyed soulster who dropped Undiscovered on us in 2006, it’s no mistake. Morrison said he didn’t try too hard to write his sophomore album; no, he leaves all his blood, sweat, and tears on the concert-hall floor, as evidenced by this very physical performance. A live show is a workout for this one.

“Broken Strings” came as a highlight, though not as expected. Backup singer Beverley Brown, one of two fly girls who injected much flair and support into these songs, played understudy in Furtado’s role with gusto and presence. Dare one say she even superseded her famous forebear on the song? It’s the truth. Whereas Furtado comes off nasal and whiny on the track, this delightful young woman sold it with a pure, clarion voice. Many in the crowd seemed to want more from her.

Elsewhere in the set list Morrison and his merry mates fashioned “Nothing Ever Hurt Like You” into a rollicking extended rocker, and the capable backup singers again wonderfully augmented a song with their flourishes on “Precious Love.”

It’s glorious how Morrison elongates a word as simple as “stay” (that’s to say, “Staaaaay”) on “If You Don’t Wanna Love Me.” The one-time busker’s in full command of his instrument at this stage of life, and with a taut band of gents behind him, he’s only on the up. As long as he keeps bleeding songs – largely positive and upbeat but not without knowing glances of pain and strife – his suitcases full of songs will brim with new tales of hearts won and hearts worn out. We’ll all nod along willingly as this affable chap does it, time and again.

It was “You Give Me Something” on this night that gave the congregation just what they wanted, what they came for – sanguine melody, gleaming arrangement, and the raw, unadorned voice of one who’s wary to the ways of love and yet apt to delve into it with glad abandon. “You give me something that makes me scared, all right/ This could be nothing, but I’m willing to give it a try … Please give me something because one day I might know my heart.”

Sure, it’s drippy, but it sounds a dream. We all can listen to James Morrison for sheer pleasure; maybe we can learn from him too. As he sang bluntly with his finely fractured voice, “Love is hard.” Understatement of the night – and but one more simple, crucial truth, from the mouth of a relative pup.

Tagged as: brit-pop, Indianapolis

By Jonathan Scott

Andy

It was a great show and I think your review accurately captured the evening. I could have sat there and listened to Morrison for a few hours longer. He is quite the captivating performer and an even better singer.