MARK LANEGAN // THE LIQUID ROOMS, EDINBURGH

Screaming Trees and Queens of the Stone Age legend, Mark Lanegan plays Edinburgh, with support from The Membranes.

Mark Lanegan, The Liquid Room, Edinburgh 14.12.19 Photography by Calum Mackintosh (@Ayecandy) — **Mark Lanegan, The Liquid Room, Edinburgh 14.12.19**
Photography by Calum Mackintosh (@Ayecandy)

★★★★☆ (4/5)

First up are The Membranes. Frontman John Robb jokes with the audience about lack of space on the compact stage of Edinburgh’s Liquid Rooms as they set up, given that they’re just about to sing about that very thing – Space. The post-punk connoisseurs have been on the go in one form or another since the late ‘70s and are currently touring on the back of their recent double album release, ‘What Nature Gives…Nature Takes Away’.

Robb is the perfect entertainer, the audience warming to his lively banter (topics ranging from his Scottish mother and love of Portobello to his disregard for John Knox) as he searches every corner of the venue for eye contact. Clambering about precariously between amps in his huge beetle-crushers, he attempts to get closer to the crowd and you can’t help but be drawn into his enthusiasm.

The Membranes’ sound tonight is deliciously dark, as they explore the environmental issues which are prevalent throughout their intensely atmospheric new album. The line-up features classical pianist and composer, Amelia Chain, on keyboards, percussion and backing vocals. Shrouded in black and garnished with a flowery headdress and lace veil, she’s a sight to behold, adding to the quirkiness of the band and encompassing the dark opera/goth-tinged edge their music brings with it.

Deep, gutsy basslines reminiscent of Joy Division are most notable on tonight’s highlight, ‘Deep In The Forest Where The Memories Linger’. Amelia’s goth-opera chants, complete with skyward-weaving arms, build to a frenzy as Robb lunges around the stage…well as much as he can in the current cramped conditions with those big feet. This is followed up nicely by ‘Black is the Colour’, another bassy number with dark operatic overtones and pounding grooves.

The set is short, energetic and pure entertainment. Think Joy Division, The Cardiacs and a spot of Sisters of Mercy mashed into a post-punk-goth jam. Catch them if you can!

At the opposite end of the banter scale, Mark Lanegan and band take to the barely lit stage. Never one to smile and masked by a thick fog of dry ice, it’s hard to gauge his mood, but it soon becomes apparent that all is not well with the legendary singer/songwriter.

Nevertheless, things get off to a promising start as ‘Knuckles’ merges into ‘Disbelief Suspension’, the opening track from his latest album, ‘Someone’s Knocking’. Next up is ‘The Gravedigger’s Song’, off 2012’s ‘Blues Funeral’, his gravelly tones shovelling deep beneath the vaults of Edinburgh’s Old Town. It’s an entrancing number, and a wave of heads sway along with the rolling rhythm. ‘Blues Funeral’ is the only album I’ve ever bought with a verbal warning of gloom and depression. I remember reassuring the guy in HMV that I’d be fine, and of course I was more than that as I immersed in the surprisingly soothing, and at times uplifting tracks, Lanegan’s raw, raspy blues juxtaposed with the synthesised psychedelia he’s been captivated by for the last decade. As the crowd cheer, it looks like he’s contemplating a word or two. Will he speak? Or, on second thoughts, keel over? He’s stock-still, clinging to the mic, just staring into his own world through those heavy, grimy glasses. The moment passes and he’s on to ‘Nocturne’, from 2017’s ‘Gargoyle’, his voice digging deeper, louder.

In ‘Stitch It Up’, from ‘Someone’s Knocking’, a more upbeat Lanegan is briefly present. The heavily-synthesised track is more typical of the new album than opening track ‘Disbelief Suspension’, as is ‘Penthouse High’, which was originally set for ‘Gargoyle’ but definitely a better fit on ‘Someone’s Knocking’ and a nod to Lanegan’s appreciation of Depeche Mode and New Order. He even grunts a thank you after ‘Burning Jacob’s Ladder’. Gotta love him! But for me, tonight’s high spot is the tranquillising ‘Bleeding Muddy Water’. Beautiful.

Jeff Fielder’s Spanish-edged guitar intro fuses into the synth-pop marvel that is ‘Ode to Sad Disco’, also off ‘Blues Funeral’ and one of the evening’s most popular numbers. Unfortunately, this is where things really start to slip. Lanegan drops lyrics and looks foggier than the atmosphere while the band shoot each other helpless glances before momentarily losing it too. Something’s afoot... Lanegan’s a professional and this isn’t the norm. I want to run up and usher the poor guy off myself. After tottering towards his trusty mug, he discusses a change to the set list with the ever-grinning drummer, who offers a few alternatives before agreeing on the murky ‘Death Trip to Tulsa’, but his voice is still flaky, and he appears to be fading fast as he gasps ‘you know I might suffer some/waiting for you doctor/are you gonna come’. After an abrupt end to the song, he mutters a few words to Fielder before the band leave the stage. Fielder returns seconds later to offer us Christmas wishes and an apology, saying he’s not sure if they’ll be coming back on again or not. We’re doubtful.

It’s got to be said, it must be a nightmare to be up there, centre of attention, when things aren’t going well for whatever reason. I get it that some fans want answers but actually, having given all he could and not cancelling the gig, we should be grateful and let it be. Having seen the set list, we missed maybe three songs and the encore - not too bad really. We still caught more than a glimpse of this phenomenal talent, and I thank him for that. I’m also thankful to have since heard that he was in fine form on Sunday in Manchester, even taking time out for post-gig signings.

The crowd hang about for the second coming but that turns out to be a roadie dismantling the mics. It’s 9.18 on a Saturday night and the lights are up. Rock n roll.