Indefinite hiatus is rarely a good thing for music. Whenever most bands find themselves tagged with the term, it more often than not means there is no turning back. Either the individual members slowly wither away into endless anonymity, leaving a trail of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens in their wake, or even worse – they reconnect too many years too late to cash in on the same collection of songs gone stale, only to release a new record that faintly resembles a watered-down version of their younger selves.
Somehow Portishead have managed to make themselves the exception to the rule. Throughout the nineties, the Bristol-bred trio sent a shockwave across alternative radio by fusing the hypnotic head-nod of hip-hop with their own unique blend of mood-laden lounge and icy atmospherics. They recorded two genre-defining albums that were as influential as they were experimental, only to walk away at what appeared to be the peak of their powers.
Over a decade later the group unexpectedly resurfaced with 2008’s ‘Third‘, a remarkably forward-thinking affair that simultaneously built upon and distanced itself from the trip-hop trappings of their earlier efforts. A series of festival dates followed before they eventually touched down last week for two nights at the Shrine Expo Hall in Los Angeles as part of their first North American tour in thirteen years.
The Expo Hall is a massive auditorium and Portishead filled the space beautifully on the second of the sold-out dates. Beth Gibbons’ tortured-soul vocals carried out into the open alongside Adrian Utley’s eerie guitar effects, while musical mastermind Geoff Barrow sat behind a battle station that came equipped with electronic drum-pads, turntables, and other various knobs and percussions. A live drummer, two extra multi-instrumentalists, and one giant video screen rounded out the performance, adding a compelling visual component to their already cinematic sound.
From the subtle magnetic rumble of opener ‘Silence‘ to the space-tunnel spy theme that was the closing encore number ‘We Carry On‘, the set was heavy on their latest material, which was also some of their best. The cowbell breakbeat behind ‘Magic Doors‘ struck a scintillating groove, and the techno-racer krautrock of recent single ‘Chase The Tear‘ showed they could still mesmerize even at their most minimal.
‘Machine Gun‘ was the easily the smartest presentation of the evening, as it juxtaposed Gibbons’ on-the-edge-of-unraveling contralto with an electro-jackhammer pulse, not to mention a point-of-view projection that pulled the entire audience down an empty horror movie hallway.
They made plenty of room for retrospection as well, pumping out a chunk of tunes from their classic 1994 debut ‘Dummy‘. The snap-back snare roll on ‘Mysterons‘ was fierce and familiar, while their bleak mega-hit ‘Sour Times‘ earned instant accolades from the crowd. The intergalactic cabaret of ‘Glory Box‘ highlighted the depths of Gibbons’ range and a stripped-down drum-free version of ‘Wandering Star‘ was an exercise in spine-tingling restraint. ‘Over‘ and ‘Cowboys‘ were the only tracks aired from 1997’s self-titled follow-up to make an appearance, the last of which was delivered at ear-splitting volume.
Above all else, the most fascinating factor behind the initial rise and recent resurgence of Portishead is the seemingly time-exempt aura that encapsulates everything they do. The combination of Gibbons’ haunting lullabies with Barrow’s cold-handed production has always made their music sound as if it was somehow being channeled through the past and imported from the future all at once.
This timelessness is the exact reason why they can survive an indefinite hiatus when others can’t, because it’s awfully hard to forget what hasn’t happened yet.
(Beau De Lang)