In bringing this singular vision to the live arena Mesirow has employed album producer Henrik, guitarist Jason, and drummer Jonathan to interpret her music, and they do so in unconventional fashion. Yes, Jason is playing a guitar, but he’s playing midi instruments – marimba, saxophone, steel drums – triggered by Henrik, who’s also feeding Jonathan’s midi drums. All of which means it’s difficult to work out who’s doing what.
It has the potential to be a clattering mess. But tonight’s gig at the grungey futuristic Xoyo proves that Mesirow is an artist that’ll be with us for some time.
She enters (a little late, but we’ll forgive her) in a truly remarkable dress, with a just-the-right-side-of-silly head piece dangling with woollen baubles. She looks like a cross between a prima ballerina, a geisha, and Minnie Mouse – in a good way.
Her voice is fragile and not quite powerful enough, and she seems ever so slightly nervous (understandable, given the levels of expectation surrounding her), and she hides behind a staccato, jerky dance. ‘Apply’ grinds from the speakers as if in slow-motion and Mesirow kicks along, head down.
Between songs she’s affable, girlish even, giggling as though she’s amazed people like her music.
Still, there’s the nagging feeling she’s restrained, not quite comfortable being the centre of attention.
But then a performance of ‘T’ sees her go virtually a cappella, with nothing but a sine wave accompaniment from Jason. It’s a brave, spellbinding moment. She thanks us for being patient, but the gig genuinely comes alive after this, almost as if Mesirow was building to this point in her mind.
By the time the finale of ‘Mirrorage’ sweeps across the room she’s ripped her under-skirt through dancing (“I feel like Janet Jackson at the Superbowl”), and the gig feels like it’s just beginning. The vocodered vocals half way through rage across the audience’s heads, and the power of Mesirow’s vision is wonderfully clear.
A seemingly impromptu encore (“I’ve got no more songs!”) witnesses a brilliant version of old English folk song ‘Let No Man Steal Your Thyme’, and the barriers between past and present, Britain and America, are truly broken.
