Music / Review

Review: Ben Howard, Bristol Beacon – ‘A mesmeric, moody record laid bare beautifully on stage’

By Samuel Fletcher  Tuesday Oct 29, 2024

It’s been a decade since we were treated to Ben Howard’s sophomore release I Forget Where We Were, a record that bristles and broods with darkness, seemingly rebelling against the stylistic success of his smash-hit debut Every Kingdom.

Out with era-defining folk hits above flicks and licks of acoustic guitar. In with mercurial, riff-driven tunes that point to a tumultuous time in the artist’s life. And it’s evident from the get-go.

End of the Affair may start softly enough, but the concluding crescendo feels like a stirring lash of exasperation.

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The immaculate, existential Time is Dancing aptly captures both the downtrodden and the defiant — themes that oscillate throughout the record and the show. “Hold it in here, let’s go dancing, I do believe we’re only passing through” partners with a delicious, incessant rhythm, making you feel you’re on a train rolling from one memory to another.

Ben seems unsettled by something as he repeats the first verse of Rivers in your Mouth. The guitar’s not quite right, or his earpiece is bugging out. He takes a brief reprieve, and the crowd recognises the toil inherent to the track’s lyrics: “I am not myself, today. I am not feeling okay.”

Given the murky, moody nature of the record, he’s acutely aware of slipping into old mindsets as he explains, “It’s a funny thing, memory. It’s a bit difficult to play these songs and put a smile on.”

What’s more, he experienced two Transient ischaemic attacks (TIAs) a couple of years back. These mini-strokes are bound to have impacted his take on live shows.

The tenth anniversary version of Ben Howard’s I Forget Where We Are is now available

But bar a few technical blips and half-flustered moments, Ben Howard shows us why he’s an indie-folk icon, turning out the album’s rich, remarkable soundscapes and delicious imagery with serious aplomb.

That distinctive, powerful croon shines throughout, with some especially rousing turns during Small Things.

It’s a show packed with reverb, metaphors, and occasionally oblique imagery, all of which are staples of Howard’s discography.

This record made them so. From the punchy opening riff of Conrad to the slow horn motif that kicks off Evergreen, the translation from studio to stage is truly delightful.

Then you’ve got the sentimentality of new release The Burren, and recurrent check-ins on How Are You Feeling?

If he’d turned that into an interactive number, most people would’ve responded “rather warm, Ben”. Bristol Beacon is a top-notch music venue, but boy could it do with better ventilation.

She Treats Me Well has resilience and uplifting moments in oodles, characterised by the lyric “got a few things going my way this time”. And the anthemic All Is Now Harmed shakes the room with its crashing cymbals and pounding drum work.

The band is sharp but loosens up for extended instrumentals on several tracks. India Bourne — a mainstay of Ben’s recording and touring group — offers stunning vocal support to the main man’s baritone.

Ben Howard is perhaps best known for his 2012 track Keep Your Head Up

Kaleidoscopic lighting pairs with visual snippets projected onto the brain above the stage (or is it a tree? Or a cloud? It’s difficult to tell).

But it’s without these bells and whistles that we see the plainest truth: Ben Howard is an exquisite musician and vocalist. Alone under spotlight with his guitar, he gives a rippling, stripped-back rendition of In Dreams, and later accompanies a piano to deliver Days of Lantana — a beautiful track packed with wisdom from last year’s release, Is It?

This exemplary, at times enigmatic album has been a big soundtrack to my life for the past decade, so it’s a genuine privilege to see it live.

As the album’s title track closes us out — as instrumentally-rich and evocative as all that came before — I glance around at a bunch of thankful gig-goers swaying and singing along.

“Maybe it was peace at last. Who knew?”

All photos: Samuel Fletcher

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