The Point
If Quentin Tarantino were to set a film in a swinging, 1950s Dublin he could do far worse than cast Imelda May and her four-piece group as the house band, bashing bodhrans and twanging rockabilly guitars in a downtown boozer as a gang of sharp-suited teddy boys set-to each other with cut-throat razors, sending pints of Guinness flying. In fact, Imelda's outfit - a vibrant pastiche of 50s cool - deserves as much attention as the music. Tonight we have a high-waisted, chequered pencil-skirt that meets a low-cut black top at a bright-red liquorice-strip belt somewhere inconceivably far above her waist, all set-off with a crimped and preened bleached quiff perched on her head just-so, like a chocolate éclair.
This is, actually, a fair metaphor for the music. Imelda and her band unashamedly borrow both quiffs and riffs from 50s rock and roll. However, they have enough of a pop sensibility, and variety from the rock-a-boogie template - a bit of jazz here, a torch song there - to keep the attention of a packed, Point crowd.
Current single "Johnny got a boom-boom" is an undeniable highlight, compressing everything we think we know about rockabilly - strutting double bass line, staccato guitar trills and infectious vocals - into three minutes, and making this genre sound a lot more exciting than it probably was. "Falling in love with you again" provides a nice detour into Tom Waits style after-hours balladry, and gives a platform for the softer edge of May's full-bodied vocals.
Whether Imelda May reaches the same levels of success as fellow retro chanteuse Amy Winehouse depends, I suppose, on the public's appetite for her particular brand of anachronism. Winehouse's jazz-club schtick is perhaps more appealingly exotic than May's homespun 50s revivalism; Billie Holiday being a somewhat more romantic figure than Lonnie Donegan . Still, perhaps there's something comforting in these financially chastened times to look back to a musical era borne of a similar economic situation. Bad as things are now, at least economic necessity hasn't caused us to start using washing-machines as percussion instruments quite yet.
words by Robin Wilkinson and photos by Gareth
Davies
