On October 21st, 2011, I impulsively bought a ticket to see Portishead at The Greek Theater that night. My familiarity with the band was effectively “I know the singles” and not much more, but I had lots of friends attending, and nothing else was going on. When I did show up, I couldn’t find my friends, and eventually found a friend that I hadn’t seen in years, and enjoyed reconnecting. Then the music started, and I was profoundly transfixed for nearly two hours. It was emotionally turbulent and a genuine catharsis. Nothing happened as planned, and it may have been all the better for it.
Fast forward 13 1/2 years. Portishead never returned to America. But their powerhouse vocalist, Beth Gibbons, released a potent solo record. And, of course, an accompanying tour. Would I relive that enchanting fall evening, only indoors in one of the most beautiful theaters in the land? Or would it be a new, different magic?
Opening the show was a very short from Cass McCombs, whom I last encountered even longer ago when my noisy grindcore-influenced band, Convalescent Surprise, opened for him at Edinburgh Castle in 2002. Did this pairing make any sense? He was essentially doing countrified folk back then. Tonight, however, his support set was the perfect warm-up for the night. McCombs’ voice was warm, filling the room nicely, and he was accompanied by his acoustic guitar and a multi-instrumentalist who alternated between bass and squeeze box, and a delicate, almost modern classical layer to the set that was simply perfection. If I had a chance to speak to him, I would’ve apologized for the noise I put him through 21+ years ago.
Anyway, this stunning band opened with a slow, atmospheric buildup on “Tell Me Who You Are Today.” Gibbons appeared in the shadows, taking the microphone with her signature slouch, and her voice showed all the raw, emotional intensity that I recall from so many years ago. It was absolutely bone-chilling.
Expectedly, the set focused on Gibbon’s solo debut, Lives Outgrown. The record is excellent, but the live setting with that incredibly gifted band really allowed the songs to grow. “Rewind” exploded into a Godspeed You! Black Emporer-esque dynamic monster. Even cuts from her collaboration with Rustin Man, like “Tom the Model,” turned into classic jazz torch songs.
The show was so good that, even if she never touched on the Portishead catalog, the legions of folks in the crowd with various generations of Portishead shirts on would go home satisfied. However, we were encored with two gems from that catalog that were just slightly rearranged to showcase the power of her band: the gentle “Roads” and the sexiest of the catalog, “Glory Box.” It was a stunning night, and I hope not to wait another 14 years to get that again.
