Hollie used to sing with the New Slits; she was part of Ari's musical collective, and lived the surreal onstage fun of that band with a hundred percent commitment. It was wonderful to hear her own music being played by Riley and Coe on their BBC6 show, and I bought her vinyl album straight away.
Alas, her next gig was in the deep south of London- buses and unreliable train services from the cold north meant that it looked like a dodgy journey and I didn't go. How wonderful to see her at the Jazz Caff, a mere stone's throw down the road.
I went stupidly early but that gave me a chance to listen to the reggae tracks being played beforehand. What fantastic production! Some of the music was so old-skool you could hear where the volume knobs on the mixing desk had been physically turned up and down to control the dynamics of the guitar-playing. The endless appeal of reggae is the way the instruments talk to each other across space; rather than putting together an instrumental arrangement and mixing it afterwards, it's almost as though the space is respected first, and then the music appears as an afterthought, assembled around the space to show off its beauty.
I was Shazzaming like crazy, although I did recognise Carlton And His Shoes. There's something about the ultra-diction in the way he sings, and also the way the music is so casual it sounds as though it's almost falling apart: I wonder if there are any albums of their stuff. As the playlist moved on to Lover's Rock, it was apparent that the production values are completely different in the Jamaican versions of that music genre (although not the English tracks produced by Dennis Bovell, for instance). The instrumentation is much more clustered-together, and in the case of Susan Cadogan's Hurts So Good, the sound is positively mushy. It was Pete Waterman who 'broke' Hurts So Good, thus kick-starting his career.
There was one track played earlier on where the horn section was so woefully out of tune with the rest of the track that I looked at the DJ as though he could have done something about it, before realising that of course, he couldn't!
In itself, the first part of the evening was very listenable; those roots reggae tracks are so beautifully sonically crafted, although in more than a few of them women don't get off lightly. Awful beings, aren't we?
Not Hollie, though! As soon as she came on to the stage, she brought her own atmosphere and her own aesthetic to the evening. As her set progressed, the appeal of her singing voice became more and more apparent. She has that rare thing: an utterly unaffected delivery. No vocal fry (urgh, I hate it!), no vibrato, no swoopings or cooing 'sexy' breathiness (those copious music degrees stuffed with ancient jazz fellers have a lot to answer for). She sounds like herself: pitch-perfect, fresh and confident.
Being a long-term fan of Lovers' Rock singers like Carroll Thompson and Janet Kay (whose voices I also love) could make me hyper-critical of a new singer on the block, but she really is a fabulous performer. I was trying to think of a way to describe her vocal timbre, and all I could think of is that it's the sound of sunshine. Her voice works an instrument that fits perfectly into the very well-rehearsed reggae band she has. The band is notably good, especially the backing vocals performed in perfect falsettos by the keyboard player and the guitarist. The only other man who I've seen do this so perfectly and unobtrusively is Rachel Love's keyboard player from her band the Loveables. Like his, their vocal tones were gentle, neat and completely in tune. The trombone player was also very good (trombones are definitely having a moment- Laetitia Sadier was playing one with Stereolab a couple of months ago). A well-played trombone is like a friend who exaggerates: over perky at times, over lachrymose at others. It was nice that he didn't dominate the music; he was essential to the sound but he didn't overplay.
All I can say is- buy the record! The only thing I didn't like was the packedness of the venue and it's inevitable braying young men who thought what they had to say in loud hooting voices was more important than the music. Some of them also thought pushing through the crowd with hands full of drinks was what the evening was all about. It wasn't. Stay at home next time.
What else? Hollie's parents were there in the scrum listening intently, and I think I spotted Paul Weller, although it could have been his doppelganger, Saul.
A lot of female singers could learn from Hollie's complete unaffectedness. She smiles, she is charming, but she is also guileless. It's probably a blessing that she isn't as famous as she should be. Voices like hers are extremely rare, and it felt like a complete privilege to be able to listen to her at such close quarters. Rock royalty in the making!
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