[RonjaGirl]

Here's another review from the Telegraph...

Lisa Hannigan, St John's Smith Sq - review
Damien Rice collaborator steps into the spotlight

A couple of years ago, when I saw Damien Rice's unforgettable concert at the Hammersmith Apollo, a voice in the crowd shouted out: "Where's Lisa?"

Rice didn't respond, but we all knew who "Lisa" was: Lisa Hannigan, the Irish singer whose vocal accompaniment was such an exquisite foil for Rice's voice on his albums O and 9, and who worked similar magic as Rice's regular partner on stage.

So where is Lisa? Well, she's been working on her solo career for a while now, and is about to release her first album, Sea Sew, which comes out in January (look out for the distinctive sleeve, which she crocheted herself).

A taster of what to expect was provided in this show at St John's Church in Westminster, a lovely, elegant venue which, for an hour or so, was filled with some equally lovely and elegant music.

Hannigan – stunning in a sparkly blue knee-length dress – was skittish and slightly nervous, but her voice was strong and true, and more wide-ranging than I expected, moving from a flute-like purity to something approaching a husky, jazzy growl.

Her songs are oddly structured things which grow and grow, circling and building like thermal currents, using a multitude of instruments played here by her rakish-looking, multi-tasking band: double bass, drums, keyboards, glockenspiel, trumpet, harmonium, acoustic guitar, and (call me sad, but I always get a thrill of excitement when someone picks up one of these instruments), banjo. The result was richly textured, with the band's tightly harmonised backing vocals rising and falling on powerful songs such as Venn Diagram (which Hannigan dedicated to her old maths teacher).

Hannigan also showed that she can do strange and interesting things with other people's songs: Bob Dylan's Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues was decorated by some beautiful glockenspiel embellishments, while her version of The Lady Is a Tramp was spooky and rather disturbing, with Hannigan, one hand working the bellows of her harmonium, revealing the dark side of her voice.

The acoustics were not perfect; there's something about a vaulted ceiling that does bad things to the sound of a drum kit. Hannigan's voice soared, but the snare drum just bounced around, especially when the drummer used sticks rather than brushes.

Still: this was a lovely introduction to this intriguing and idiosyncratic singer and songwriter. I can't say that I came out of this show humming any of Hannigan's tunes, but the flavour of her music, its atmosphere, its moods and textures, left a lasting impression.

Rating: ****

By David Cheal