By Doug Levy
Arizona Daily Wildcat
October 2, 1997

Portishead returns with a vengeance

Photo courtesy of Roseland Arizona Daily Wildcat NYC Set List

Sometimes being in New York City can have its advantages. Sure, you might wonder when Manhattan wouldn't be cool, but if you grew up near there, like I did, you'd know that you learn awfully quick what a cold, dirty, unfriendly place it can be.

But when it comes to cultural events, you can't beat it. Things happen in New York that just don't happen anywhere else. Like Portishead playing a show with a 30-piece orchestra and a five-piece horn section at the Roseland Ballroom this past summer.

With this week's release of the new self-titled album from Portishead, it's hard not to think back on that show and its full significance. For one thing, Portishead hardly ever plays live. For another, when they do, it's never in such an intimate setting. They set up on the dancefloor in the NYC club, instead of on the stage, and the crowd surrounded them in a semicircle, seated in the front, standing in the back. And the show was being filmed.

Yes, I was there. Yes, I know how lucky I am.

Portishead In NYC has already made its cinematic debut in theaters in England, although how the show will be presented in the States remains to be seen. However it is shown, though, what you can expect is a lot of what you can find on the new album.

Vocalist Beth Gibbons remains the vital force behind all of Portishead's songs. Her voice is constantly filled with enough emotion and regret to fill the heart of a titan, and live, it's almost startling to hear such powerful, tortured sounds coming from such a frail figure.

Smoking cigarette after cigarette as she sang, eyes closed, shoulders hunched, she appeared both trapped, tragic and beautiful.

Then there's Geoff Barrow, the man behind the music. Watching him perform, you'd think he doesn't do much, but that's because all the live musicians stripped away the need for the endless sampling and mixing involved in his mastery of song production.

Barrow's technique for putting together a track is unlike anyone else's. He first records the various musicians in the studio, then he presses the individual recordings to vinyl, then samples that and presses the samples to vinyl and so on, until he has achieved the unique sound Portishead is so well known for.

The songs on the new CD are reminiscent of older times, danger and intrigue, even espionage. In fact, many of them would fit right into a James Bond film, like the sultry "Cowboys," or the big band slur of "All Mine."

Only two songs, "Mourning Air" and "Undenied" would have fit in on Dummy, the band's debut release. The rest have a new depth to them - a booming insistence behind the old dreary sound. There's still sadness in Portishead's music, but there's anger now as well. Gibbons may still come off as a woman scorned, but this time she'll get revenge.