A warm enough to not need a jacket evening, and a stroll down a surprisingly empty Oxford Street on a still early Sunday evening, which ended at the 100 Club entrance, which, again, surprisingly, was not very busy. Fortunately, that was because the majority of the gig goers crowding into this hallowed venue were seasoned enough hands to know that Sunday night generally means a relatively early start and finish. Great Lake Swimmers, again in London at last, and the inquiring mind can’t help but wonder what form the band would take. Tony Dekker, solo, is still Great Lake Swimmers, but here the stage was set with drums and multiple microphones hinting at, perhaps, a five-piece band. Well, not quite, but with Marshall Bureau either on bass or drums and Colleen Brown either on guitar, bass or keyboards, there was plenty of room for variety across the ensuing set, which was built strongly around the new album Caught Light, a perfect album name for a band who do capture a sense of shimmering radiance and shade and glowing brightness and all tones in-between.
Across a more than twenty-year career, Great Lake Swimmers have made albums of soft folk-rock, with the occasional excursion into music that is at least College Rock-adjacent, and backed up with songs that are deeply within the singer-songwriter folk tradition. Through it all, the touchstone has been thoughtful lyrics and just a touch of artistic intellectualism. Not, Dekker shares, what might have been expected of a boy growing up on a relatively off-the-beaten-track Canadian farm. It becomes a slight self-deprecating theme of the between-song insights, as Dekker distances himself from advising a career in music, as he has it, music does have its rewards, but there are definite issues with it as well. Not that you’d guess that from the guitar-driven opener, Still, which both extolls the quest for the next song and makes a claim for an almost spiritual inner calm.
The following run of three songs was all from the new album, with Dekker saying, as introduction to One More Dance Around The Sun, that there wouldn’t be a straight run-through of the album, but this happened to be the first song on the album. Strangely Wrong Wrong Wrong is the second track on the new album, and, wouldn’t you know it, For You To Come Around is the third. The one thing they served to prove is that Tony Dekker has not lost his touch, and with this line-up, the songs lent into that intellectual rock feel more than the countrified versions to be found on Caught Light, with Colleen Brown adding keyboards and guitar as required. There’s a bit of a theme running through these songs; ageing, of course, but also the weight of personal failings and a hope for love that seems ever distant. And Wrong Wrong Wrong felt in this room very REM adjacent.
If you’re going to add rhythm in Great Lake Swimmers, then you need to bring a wide range of sticks, brushes and mallets, and fortunately, when Marshall Bureau switched from bass to drums, he demonstrated that he’d packed a full set. Which is just as well since the gorgeous Everything Is Moving So Fast requires percussion that’s both restrained and complex, and that’s exactly what we got. It’s a beautiful crystallisation of the emotions and feelings associated with a new connection moving from one stage of friendship to a deeper connection. The title track of the new album, however, pushes into darker territory with guitar and keyboards building a tension over which Dekker sings “am I really being honest with myself?” as metaphors of movement and parachute descents question his ability to set motion on straight tracks again – it’s a momentous sound, add some pedal steel, and we’d be moving into Winnemucca territory.
As well as more from the new album, such as the uplifting Youth Not Wasted, Endless Detours and A Distant Star there were also deep dives such as Moving Pictures Silent Films done as a request, and going back even further into pre-Great Lakes Swimmers in an acoustic solo spot with Talking In Your Sleep all strummed acoustic guitar and harmonica whilst listening in on a partner’s vocalised dreams and wondering why “some nights are better than others“.
Approaching the end of the set, Dekker encouraged the audience to participate on the chorus of Pulling On A Line, it’s something that had happened spontaneously at a previous gig and he’d liked the result, and so it was suddenly a full folk club vibe as we contemplated the depths of fishing as a metaphor for life “I’m just pulling on a line, on a line / But sometimes it pulls on me.” The final encore was another opportunity to bring out an ancient song: Somewhere Near Thunder Bay captures a moment of time, kayaking on a perfect day before closing the evening with the soft benediction, or maybe lullaby, of Where In The World Are You. The perfect quiet closer for a gig that had extolled the virtues and rewards of quiet attention, and really, what more could one want than beautiful songs sung beautifully.
The support for the night had been billed as the Belgian band Portland, but as Jente Pironet explained, it was too difficult to fit the whole band into the van, and so he was appearing solo. His band name is a nod to the music of Elliot Smith, but we’ve noted before that there’s a certain amount of Mercury Rev about them, but somewhat less so on this night, with just a guitar and a dozen or so pedals.
He’s an engaging performer, despite several confessions of nerves and a certain amount of awe at playing on the 100 Club’s stage. His set featured songs from a number of Portland’s releases including: Time Is Now from the most recent release Champain as well as older songs such as Last Trip and Ally Ally all of which are focused on relationships, and not perhaps ones that are working out so well as he sings “I can’t keep telling you I’m sorry” on Last Trip, a melancholic end of the Summer, end of the relationship tune. Stripped back, they may be, but Jente Pironet holds the attention.
When Pironet was donning his harp holder, he also mentioned that sometimes people say he looks like someone, and it’ll surprise nobody that the audience were very quick to shout “Bob Dylan” even before the question was fully formed. He seemed a little surprised that it was so obvious, but his sensitive cover of Girl From The North Country confirmed that if there is any Belgian that should be doing Dylan tribute nights as a side hustle, then it is Jente Pironet. And it showed through in his last two songs of his opening set: both Pouring Rain and Lay Me Down featured a nice turn of phrase which suggested a more than passing acquaintance with Dylan’s back pages.
