Corrine Bailey Rae Live Review

Royal Festival Hall, Monday 18 October 2010

***

Corinne Bailey Rae has had an eventful career in the few years she has dined at the top table of British pop. Two albums in and all seems well on the surface, with both receiving widespread praise and industry plaudits. But her time at the top has also been marked by tragedy – the death of her songwriter husband Jason Rae in 2008, which saw her take a two year hiatus. The path she has trod may have been musically successful, but she has not had an easy ride.

Bullish Leeds lass Bailey Rae would want no doubt want to be judged on the music though. Self-titled album one was quintessential coffee table fare, ear fodder for the chattering classes and ultimately harmless. It landed a couple of knockout blows, namely Like a Star and the ubiquitous Put Your Records on, but Bailey Rae’s soaring vocal still had an annoying habit of wandering away into nothingness. She was, however, granted wider exposure by the album’s success as the kind your parents might buy from Sainsbury’s – not a game-changing record but praiseworthy all the same.

So far so good. But then Bailey Rae’s career took a couple of turns you would have struggled to predict. Her husband’s unexpected death cued a different, more brooding direction for album two, The Sea. It won almost blanket praise, picking up a prestigious Mercury Prize nomination, and Bailey Rae, who clearly hasn’t heard of second album blues, had done it again.

To the Royal Festival Hall, then, to see whether she can live up to the hype, hacking into the average age of those present (Radio 2 primetime, I’d say) in the process. To start with, she has a strong, if strange, stage presence. It is undoubtedly a powerful one, but the lungful power of her performance seems to belie her waif-like size, diminished further by a svelte black dress.

On top of breaking the laws of physics, Bailey Rae can keep an audience happy. Though the gig was a few country miles removed from the epicentre of cool (two members of the seated crowd who stood up to dance were told to sit down straightaway), she gave a slick, assured performance, seamlessly switching from ballad to more gutsy fare. And though I was accused of vulgarity, it seemed to be a very sensual display – she incontrovertibly sang from the hip.

The song order felt odd at times, with Put Your Records On – still the flagship tune of the Bailey Rae canon – jammed in three songs from the end. It would have been good to hear tender album one opener ‘Like A Star’ too, but album two’s standout track Are You Here shone enough to just about made up for it. Safe to say, the Mercury nomination was more than justified in the flesh – and it will be interesting to see where Bailey Rae goes from here.

This review was commissioned by Sleeve Magazine, a new free music monthly for London.