Musee Mecanique – Borderline, London
“Ah, well,” I said consolingly to my friend Jon, who couldn’t make the gig, “they strike me as being all about the recording. I don’t think they’ll be so great live.”
Boy was I wrong.
Live, Musée Mécanique take their intricate, delicate, often forlorn sound from its studio cage and set it free. It mesmerises as it wings its way in complex patterns around our heads, delights as it bounds around the room like an overenthusiastic puppy.
Live, we see how their rich, nostalgic arrangements are made. The sheer musicianship of these guys becomes apparent on stage as they constantly switch places on vocals, keyboards, guitar and all manner of other gadgets. Accordions, tambourines, steel guitar, xylophones, a melodica, a saw… It’s intriguing.
And live, the soft-yet-clear-as-a-bell vocals of songwriters and lead guys Sean Olgivie and Micah Rabwin stay strong and true, so the lyrics hit with the same bittersweet emotional intensity they have on the band’s album, “Hold This Ghost”. Simpler songs like “The Things That I Know” and “Fits and Starts” take on a poignant immediacy that fractures your heart a little.
It was an intimate gig, the crowd comprised to a large extent of multitudinous support band The Mariner’s Children, who’d gotten the evening off to a rollicking folky start. There was something really quite serious and earnest about these punters though. It was an older, quieter audience – willing and able to be gently hypnotised. You could almost hear the pause after each tune as they shook off the spell before applauding.
And the band seemed quite happy with this comfortable closeness, joking self-deprecatingly about their cheesy visit to Abbey Road, chatting about themselves and explaining the origins of their songs.
The set list was pretty much everything from “Hold this Ghost”, but with a few rewarding bonuses. A rousing, pitch-perfect rendition of the Beach Boys’ version of “Sloop John B” might have been the highlight of the evening. Oh, the harmonies. Stunning. “Sleeping in Our Clothes” cut into the melancholic ambience halfway through, providing a lilting, perky interlude.
There were a couple of new songs too. One of them, the Simon & Garfunkelesque “Southern Road”, was introduced by Olgivie as a song written to capture one of those perfect moments when you want time to stand still. Something it has achieved – it’s simply lovely.
Live, the guys in Musée Mécanique infuse their haunting, captivating music with a warmth and honesty that makes it even more compelling. They were charming. It was enchanting. Sorry Jon, but you missed a great gig.