Oatmeal and magic wands
On commanding the crowd with loud calm sounds
The loud calm sounds of Sakura opened for Trentemøller last night here in Amsterdam. Sakura’s 2022 mini album skin is a bedroom dream pop delight with softly blended female and male vocals and a mix emotions, from upbeat confidence to forlorn introspection. Followers of blank mood will appreciate Sakura’s dreamy haze.
I was looking forward to hearing Sakura live after listening to skin. Being on the tour bill with the always-amazing Trentemøller seemed like a pretty solid endorsement of Sakura.
It is a solid endorsement, however, the Paradiso Amsterdam audience failed to appreciate that loud calm sounds are best enjoyed when they fill a silent space. The chatter was overwhelming to my ears, making it very difficult to decipher the soft and delicate vocal crafts of Sakura.
Have you had this experience gig-going too? Argh.
“Loud calm” is a description I use for blank mood to capture music that is perhaps better left without a genre label. “Loud calm” gets at the stark emotional power that sparseness or abrupt contrasts can convey. If you have no idea what I’m trying to describe, go get your headphones and listen to Low’s Long Division.
Together with silence, live performances of loud calm music create a crowd connected by stillness. Call me foofy, but I think this is one of the most subtle yet remarkable sensory experiences of music, both live and recorded. It’s something that impresses me about a musician and their performance. Kathryn Joseph’s For You Who Are the Wronged is an example. Trentemøller is master of the sexy stark and dark drop.
What are your favourite loud calm examples?
Loud calm is most powerful when an artist commands a room - a room full of listeners who have willfully submitted themselves. If you ever saw Low live, you may have noticed that Alan Sparhawk can command a room. Heck, he can command an audience by just demonstrating his method for making oatmeal.
A more recent example in my concert-going was Nathasha El-Sergany playing a stripped-back somesurprises set here in Amsterdam a few weeks ago. She was performing in a small venue together with bandmate Josh and made the casual suggestion to the audience that they could sit down and enjoy the music - the majority of folks then just sat on the floor, as though she had waved a magic wand. Okay, there was also that one person who couldn’t seem to sit still and chose experimental dance instead, but at least he was quiet.
The performance of Sakura (and later Trentemøller) at Paradiso Amsterdam last night had me thinking about loud calm and live music venues. I struggled to enjoy Sakura’s performance due to the crowd chatter. It’s disappointing for the conditions to detract from the product, which you’re quite sure is usually pretty good. I’m assuming artists and fans have many examples of when it all goes very wrong. What I did notice and appreciate about Sakura was her commitment to loud calm, demonstrated by addressing the audience with quiet humility, gratitude and confidence despite not receiving the courtesy in return.
What are your favourite loud calm tunes? Do you have a story of when it all went wrong in a live music venue? Would be interested to hear!
//wendy