“What Morton Valence do then is make epic songs of varying length but unvarying style – whatever groove is set at the beginning of the song tends to be the same groove in the middle of the song and at the end of the song with extra instruments adding themselves to the mix occasionally to give a sense of dynamism.”
“What Morton Valence do then is make epic songs of varying length but unvarying style – whatever groove is set at the beginning of the song tends to be the same groove in the middle of the song and at the end of the song with extra instruments adding themselves to the mix occasionally to give a sense of dynamism.”
London Calling; Morton Valence – Blow Up Metro, Metro, London.
I’ll admit I let this review go for a while, gave it time to breathe as it were and stew gently in its own juices for a week or two. Partly this was down to circumstance, a laptop out of commission and extra hours selling shoes instead taking up my time. But all that time that I was fighting with the innards of my computer or flogging brogues was spent pondering one particularly nagging question; what on earth am I going to write about that gig?
Every description I thought up seemed slightly wrong somehow. Calling them electro-pop is far too cutesy and calling them something slightly more accurate – electro pop but without the choruses – suggests both a boring nature and a sense of coldness which is wrong on both counts. I couldn’t even think of anyone to particularly compare them to. Which is because – as I slowly realised – the live incarnation of Morton Valence have created their own weird and slightly disconcerting world where they make their own type of warped electro-pop.
What Morton Valence do then is make epic songs of varying length but unvarying style – whatever groove is set at the beginning of the song tends to be the same groove in the middle of the song and at the end of the song with extra instruments adding themselves to the mix occasionally to give a sense of dynamism. These are songs in an electro vein but with an added sense of atmosphere and humanity often missing from the genre, The Kiss for instance absolutely swoons for all of its four or five majestic minutes. Other tracks like the set-closing Sailors stomp along marvellously adding a huge dose of fun to proceedings, spurred on by the band member cruelly relegated to the back right of the stage who, when not called on to play keyboards instead spends his time pogo-ing madly or playing what look like bongos. All these songs exist in the same ball-park but are different in their own ways; some rolling along gently on a wash of male and female vocals and soft keyboards whereas others bang along mightily on the back of fearsome drumming and rocking guitars with the rest of the set made up of numbers like new single Man on the Corner, which starts off slow and uneasily, built on hushed vocals and simple keyboard lines, and builds the tension until it finally burst in a wave of guitars, synths and flailing arms from singer/guitarist Morton Junior.
If Morton Valence’s music gives off a slightly odd, disconcerting feeling then their stage presence matches thanks mainly to Morton Junior, a gentleman who despite having a stage attire that consists of frilly shirt, beret and giant aviators and who is the kind of gent you could imagine cutting a mean tango on the dance-floor, still manages to look incredibly threatening. There, in a nutshell I think, is the physical representation of the slightly odd nature of Morton Valence’s songs. As I’ve already proved, it’s a hard job to describe the Morton Valence sound and I think in fact a strange metaphor is perhaps needed – Morton Valence remind me of that brief period of confusion, fright, unsteadiness of foot and then pleasure you get when you suddenly stand up at a club or whatever and realise that actually, you’ve had perhaps one or three more drinks more than you’d thought, you’re not really sure what on earth is happening or indeed where you are anymore but decide “what they hey!” and sway towards the bar in a pleasantly drunken fug to get another, just knowing that you’re about to have a damned good night. It’s that whole feeling, but stretched out for a good half hour.
Morton Valence; a confusing, intoxicating and thoroughly fun night out.
Words & Picture: Michael Evans courtesy of www.powpowpow.com