The opening night of Gabrielle’s British tour was a travesty and, frankly, it was a wonder the audience did not walk out and demand their money back. Those were Gabrielle’s own words, not mine. Plagued by a sore throat and a severe attack of self-doubt, the 37-year-old singer from South London compounded a mediocre performance by giving herself a sustained bout of verbal self-flagellation of a sort that I cannot recall witnessing on a professional concert stage before.
It was a bizarre display, right from the beginning. Preceded by a pair of flunkies who set out a teapot, a cup and a towel on a table next to the microphone stand, Gabrielle arrived on stage late and immediately fell to her knees like a tennis player who had just won Wimbledon. Yes, it had been a long time since she last toured but, even so, this seemed a bit over the top. The singer was back to promote her latest album, Always, another collection of easygoing, upmarket soul songs in a distinctively English style that has been eclipsed in recent times by the more aggressively retro RnB sound of Amy Winehouse and Joss Stone.
Accompanied by a forceful five-man band and two backing singers, Gabrielle struggled to make herself heard and, after just two numbers, there were calls from the audience for her microphone to be turned up. This prompted the first of many explanations and apologies from the singer, who explained that she had been suffering from flu and that her voice had been getting worse all week. “I didn’t want to give you a substandard show, which is what I feel I’m doing,” she said. “I think you should get a refund.” Was she making a point to her management? Or was she courting the sympathy vote from her loyal fans, whose support in the face of this extended mea culpa remained remarkably firm?
Honesty may be the best policy, but not when you are managing the smoke and mirrors of a pop concert. As Gabrielle struggled to reach the low notes of Fallen Angel, and simply gave up on the high notes in Rise – nodding to her backing singers to indicate that they should paper over the cracks – it became hard not to take her own critique at face value.
Advertisement
There was also an uneasy sense that the drama, though real enough, was a little too stage-managed. As she reached the end of Give Me a Little More Time, with the repeated line “I just can’t pretend any longer . . .” she slipped sadly into the wings, a battered trooper reluctantly leaving the band to wrap up the song and the show. But then, miraculously, she returned with yet more excuses – and an encore of two more songs.
She has a long tour ahead and, with the best will in the world, if she comes limping up to the starting line in this kind of condition, what are the later shows going to be like?
Tour continues in Liverpool, Feb 12