Posted by kluster on December 11, 2009
Patrick Wolf has always had a touch of the Roman about him. At its best, his music contains a sense of majesty and affirmation scarcely found by any of his contemporaries, while the man himself remains the prince-in-waiting – always on the cusp of something bigger and certainly dressed for the occasion.
Which is why seeing him live did nothing to change my opinion of him. I'm a big fan of anyone whose second of three costume changes for the night involves a black raven cape with matching headpiece and a monochrome Union Jack jumpsuit, likewise anyone whose live set up includes a laptop and a lap-mounted string instrument known as an 'Appalachian dulcimer'. But the forays into glam-pop that have resulted from his last two albums don't seem to make good on the promise of his incredible sophomore effort, Wind in the Wires.
Though that's not to say that numbers like Battle, and set opener Oblivion aren't enough to send you spinning round the room when you see them live, particularly delivered by a showman of Wolf's calibre, who is capable of melding the camp grace of Bowie's Thin White Duke with the writhing hysteria of The Cramps' former leading man, Lux Interior.
What I do appreciate is that Wolf definitely stands for something, and while I don't have the space to elaborate on it here, I will say that the frenzied legion of followers that came out for his show at The Metro are testimony to it, doling out their enthusiasm in equal measure for the two distinct halves of his set – the melodramatic folk and showtunes in the form of Bluebells and Theseus, and the rousing electro-cabaret found in tracks like Tristan and The Magic Position.
Wolf's glimpses of genius will probably always outshine the sum of his work, but I was reminded tonight why that can be just as thrilling as consistency. While I may not like everything he does, I love the fact that he's there.
Check out this photo and more on the Kluster Gallery
patrick wolf, metro theatre