The Milk Carton Kids + Jesca Hoop - Union Chapel 20/05/23
As the audience settle themselves among the pews in the Union Chapel, the vacant stage is as uncluttered as it gets: a solitary central mic and two empty guitar stands. That’s it. I would wager that the sleep of the tour manager is long and undisturbed on this one. Also onstage, dwarfing all else, is a massive stone pulpit, lest we forget we are in a place of worship. Those guitar stands, of course, belong to Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan, the titular Milk Carton Kids who have sold out tonight’s show, timed to coincide with the release of their new album, I Only See The Moon.
But before they appear, we are greeted by their fellow Californian and support act, Jesca Hoop, sporting a vivid green trouser suit and some risk-assessment-worthy platform clogs. Hoop has been based in Manchester since 2008 and has enjoyed no small amount of success and notoriety as a singer songwriter, collaborating with Iron and Wine and Guy Garvey among others. Hoop’s journey has been an unusual one: having been raised in a Mormon family, she decided at 16 to break away from that life - of “carpet cleaner, pot-pourri and shame” as she puts it - and to leave conventional living behind too. Leading a nomadic existence for several years, sleeping out of doors or in disused barns, seems to have had a profound influence on her music-making, which is complex, intricate and mysterious. Jesca’s voice has great range; from a rich and breathy lower register to a stratospheric falsetto and her neat fingerpicking is the thread that binds these curious, shapeshifting songs together. However, this is hard music; difficult to fathom, tricky to untangle. Think folk-Björk, if you can. It’s hard to know whether or not it’s gone completely over the heads of tonight’s congregation, polite and attentive as we are, but I’m sure by the end of the set that Hoop will have won some new fans.
The Milk Carton Kids appear in their trademark attire to a sizeable roar of appreciation and begin with two songs from their Ash & Clay album: ‘Hope of a Lifetime’ and ‘Snake Eyes’, which film fans might recognise from the soundtrack to Gus Van Zant’s Promised Land. They follow this pair with the busy bluegrass of ‘Heaven’ and in this trio alone we have a snapshot of the duo’s essence: Joey’s stately poise complementing Kenneth’s blizzard of movement and noodling, with their signature blend of harmony vocals draped atop, like some kind of intricately hand-woven, priceless shroud.
The pin-drop and plaintive ballad ‘Michigan’ follows and is a clear fan-favourite, replete with audience participation. When the duo are at their most tender is arguably when they have the most impact, particularly in this most reverent of settings. ‘North Country Ride’, ‘Star Shine’ and ‘Will You Remember Me’ are all similarly sublime moments through the set. Of course, these are only possible as part of the light and shade of the whole show, and mention too must be made of the faster, furiouser numbers, most notably ‘Honey, Honey’ and ‘I Still Want A Little More’, both of which showcase Pattengale’s impressive leadwork. Unbelievably, he doesn’t appear to look at his hands once all evening.
There are guest spots: Jesca Hoop is invited back to the stage to join in for the American parlour-folk of ‘Monterey’ and later, singer-songwriter John Smith is included in an especially beautiful rendition of ‘Unwinnable War’ (the three have toured together and the ‘Kids appeared on Smith’s last album, The Fray).
Pattengale and Ryan have an easy on-stage chemistry and the show is peppered with self-mockery and gentle quick-wit. They have an equal rapport with their audience too: Joey shakes his head slowly and conspiratorially in our direction as Kenneth takes the liberty of an extended spot of solo fretwork and, later, “this is all true, I’m really not that funny!” Kenneth shouts, through the laughter, as he regales us with a ridiculously convoluted story of seeking an emergency guitar repair on Soho’s Denmark Street. Fittingly, we are also told the tale of the new album’s title track which was singlehandedly written by Kenneth and apparently recorded - with an orchestra - on the one day Joey wasn’t able to come to the studio.
The Milk Carton Kids are now twelve years and eight albums into a career that has seen them mine and hone their collective skills to near-perfection and tonight’s performance finds them in full, symbiotic command of their talents. Theirs may be a sound rooted in the American gospel and folk traditions of the past yet these are songs that speak to the present. Immersive and entertaining in equal measure, tonight’s set was a wonderful introduction to the new album and a rare opportunity to experience the Milk Carton Kids in an intimate setting. The boys have the rest of their year mapped out in the form of an extensive tour of Australia, Canada and the US but will return to us here in the UK early on in 2024 for a show at The Barbican, though Joey and Kenneth can’t quite agree on the exact date…
Review by Rich Barnard
Nick Lowe seemed genuinely surprised that so many folks had come out on a Tuesday night for the first show of his UK tour at the London Palladium. It was standing room only at the 2200+ capacity venue. This says much about the high esteem in which Nick Lowe is held as an artist and songwriter. From his early days in Brinsley Schwartz and late 70s solo chart success, Rockpile with Dave Edmunds and on through the critically acclaimed Brentford Trilogy of albums to his latest work with Los Straightjackets, Lowe has been a mainstay of British music for fifty years. Lowe is also well known for his production work in the 80s with the Stiff record label that included ‘New Rose’ for The Damned and a run of classic albums for Elvis Costello. I’m pleased to report that, even at 75, Lowe shows no signs of slowing down, and he looks to be enjoying keeping things fresh with Los Straitjackets.