Live Review: PJ Harvey, Xylouris White

The instrumental combo of Xylouris White (Greek singer and laouto player George Xylouris and Dirty Three drummer Jim White) makes for fascinating sonic explorations. Visions of Greece, maybe riding a mule taxi up impossibly steep inclines in Santorini or joining a dancing circle with locals in a random Cypriot taverna, spill into our imagination and the technical virtuosity is next-level. The fast laouto riffing from Xylouris seems to spur on White's drumming with tempos constantly intensifying and thrilling. A truly unique experience not to be missed.    

Punters leave seats and cluster in front of the stage to get as close as possible to PJ Harvey. Stage lights fade and we hear distant drums before Harvey's ten-piece backing band marches on, each drum skin decorated with The Hope Six Demolition Project cover art. The effect is funereal and all are fittingly dressed in black, although Harvey wears a dark blue hue, her spindly black-stockinged legs in thigh-high high-heeled black leather boots and matching long black leather gloves. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail that falls halfway down her back, capped off with striking black feather mohawk-style headdress. Harvey looks otherworldly — like a character from The Dark Crystal come to life.

Opener Chain Of Keys immediately showcases Harvey's brass-heavy arrangements and Mick Harvey expertly leads the rhythmic, chain-gang choir. The Ministry Of Defence is haunting, Harvey's vocal somehow simultaneously frail and powerful. There's zero banter; that would break the spell. As phenomenal as her backing players are, all eyes are on Polly Jean Harvey. The coquettish vocal melodies in Let England Shake somehow lighten the tone despite harrowing lyrical content. The Words That Maketh Murder is just about as jaunty as it gets and there's a few jigging in the front section (although it feels weird to dance when lyrics such as, "I've seen soldiers fall like lumps of meat," find our ears).              

There's gravitas in these songs even when arrangements are rambunctious and Harvey's band are vigilant, all eyes directed her way for the subtlest direction. The Glorious Land is particularly poignant ("Oh, America/Oh, England/What is the glorious fruit of our land?/Its fruit is deformed children"). Harvey's sustained, plaintive high notes in To Talk To You break our collective heart. Her every gesture is considered, like an opera diva. When she wields or plays sax we all wish we learned to play this instrument way back when so that we could be as effortlessly cool and multi-talented as Harvey. The backdrop is a high stack of dull-hued 3D cubes that threaten to swallow us whole. We feel drained after Dollar, Dollar. Harvey's vocal tone alone is enough to bring tears to eyes, whether or not you tune into lyrics.

This setlist carries weighty themes, but is not without glimmers of hope. Clapping percussion during standout track The Wheel is replicated within the crowd with relish. The Ministry Of Social Affairs opens with a segment of Jerry McCain & His Upstarts' That's What They Want, which is just about as rock as this ensemble get. Brass cacophony that sounds like sax being strangled closes out 50ft Queenie and drives us wild. Harvey sinisterly closes out Down By The Water with its whispered, repeated refrain, "Little fish, big fish swimming in the water/Come back here, man, gimme my daughter".

We score an encore, but it's still over way too soon after a trip The River — we would happily follow Harvey anywhere and wish we could watch these musicians perform on a loop for days. Harvey is exceptional in every way and we're truly not worthy. Undoubtedly everyone present carries a torch for Harvey.