 | | Richard Hawley |
In the absence of Nancy’s LA neighbour to offer support, it fell to ex-Pulp guitarist Richard Hawley to open proceedings, and he turned out to be a perfect foil for Sinatra. His bittersweet strand of melancholia mixed his gritty, double-dry Sheffield presentation with heartbreakingly gorgeous tunes that stunned and shimmered in equal proportions. The ideal hors d'oeuvre to Nancy’s main course, his delicious guitar and melodramatic monotone could receive no higher compliment than saying they were worthy of the headline spot. That place was saved for Nancy’s feast. Equally cursed and blessed by that surname, she comes not only with the burden of a career spanning five decades but with that of her father. Maybe that pressure would explain the ramshackle bunch of misfit musicians, including a keyboardist with the same stylist as Jim Royle and a guitarist dressed in such a loud rockabilly jacket that it prompted one card in the audience to declare "hey up… It’s Showaddywaddy!" Anything to distract from the weight of expectation. For a few songs, it looked like that burden may be too heavy. Sinatra reeled around the stage like a drunken aunt at a wedding; her voice plunged too low beneath the heavy drums of Clem Burke to be heard, her mic lead dropped out after several loud clicks, the spotlight bobbed around leaving her in darkness… it was one step off a car-crash concert. That is until she came under the spell of Morrissey. "Ah, Manchester," she smiled, "nothing to answer for", before showing her skill in stagecraft and sultry voice for the Stephen Patrick-penned Let Me Kiss You. The song kicked in her inherited showmanship and, despite a couple of further dips, provided the launchpad for a wonderfully peculiar set that swung from new tunes like Two Shots Of Happy, One Shot Of Sad (written for her by U2) and Don't Let Him Waste Your Time (the work of Jarvis Cocker, played here with the help of Richard Hawley), back through the ages to her first hit So Long Babe and the sumptuous Bond theme, You Only Live Twice. Bizarre mixed with odd, power mixed with camp and occasionally, slight madness reared its head. Somethin’ Stupid summed things up. Her odd duet with father Frank, came complete with Dad’s vocal, a swirling sea of lights and a creepy "I love you too, Daddy" at its finale. Yet, for all it’s strangeness, it showed the realness of Nancy. As much as she has spent her life removed from normality, her choice of friend in Morrissey and support in Hawley show her lack of divadom, and she added to it with a wander through the audience for the expected airing of her key song, These Boots Are Made For Walkin’. Shaking hands, sitting on laps, grinning in faces, she glossed over the memory of those early wobbles with the ease of a presidential candidate. With a hop, skip and stumble, she was gone, leaving the lights to come up on her unsuspecting band. They trudged off while the audience trudged out, all strangely bewildered by what they had been part of. She may be forever fated to stand in the shadow of her father, but if cool, kitsch and genuine individuality count for anything, she’ll surely leave her own mark on that famous name. |
