For a folk singer like Martha Tilston, Islington’s Union Chapel might seem like the ideal venue. It’s a beautiful building in which you can forget you’re in London and imagine the more scenic settings that Tilston evokes in her songs. And it’s full of pews, so you get to sit down: at a serene show like this no one wants to stand around getting sore feet. But it’s also a functioning chapel, so when Tilston sings in ‘Artificial’ the line ‘fuck your company policy’, she inadvertently raises the slightly murky question of whether or not it’s OK to swear in church.
‘Sorry, God’, she says afterwards. But if God takes any interest at all in music, then no apology should be necessary; ‘Artificial’ is one of the highlights of this set. Tilston is at her best when she is singing songs that draw on everyday experiences, like this plaint about the wretchedness of a repetitive office job. Many of her lyrics are very pastoral, so when that mood is augmented with references to cash machines and coffee makers, there is a distinctive duality that works well. In other songs, the channelling of rural wilderness is overly dominant. I quickly lost count of how many times the moon, the sea and birds were mentioned during the set. Sometimes these motifs combined; there were several references to seabirds. In the context of a gig, in which the artist’s work can be seen in panoramic view, such a similarity of themes can become a bit tiresome.
However, the quality of the performance made up for the occasionally grating lyrics. Tilston was recovering from something fluey, and as her set progressed, the songs began to be punctuated with occasional coughs. She remarked that the penicillin she was taking may have made her a bit silly, but her voice didn’t seem to be impaired. Even when she was singing unaccompanied, it remained clear and smooth.
Her backing band, The Woods, also gave a fine performance. Most of them seem to be multi-instrumentalists and they swapped instruments at intervals, switching from violin to mandolin, cello to flute or piano to percussion. They create a charmingly cosy atmosphere too. Tilston played a song called ‘My Chair’, about jamming sessions at her flat, and this sums up the vibe. All the performers were accomplished but relaxed, as if they were playing in a living room for their own entertainment. It turns out that this kind of show is also a great night for those of us who aren’t in the band.
