Self Esteem

Last night I went to see Self-Esteem (aka) Rebecca Lucy Taylor in concert at the Manchester Academy. I thought about writing a normal review of the gig. You know the kind, where the author writes a little background to the act, talks through some highlights/low points of the performance and then gives a star rating and a pithy epithet to round it all off.

The problem with that is that I only go to music concerts that I’m fairly certain I’m going to love. (It’s too expensive to take a chance, like I do with going to the cinema). So, take it as read that it was five-star performance. Self Esteem can write a great song, belt out a great tune and provide tightly choreographed engaging performances. The gig was a blur of creativity, beautifully sung with engaging high energy and surprising visuals.

Self Esteem has worked hard for that audience. Once upon a time, she was Rebecca Lucy Taylor one half of folk-indie duo The Slow Club. She learnt her trade, how to write songs, how the music industry worked, and how to perform. But she left Slow Club to become her own muse. Self Esteem was the chosen moniker for her artwork, short notes and her solo music. She has now released three solo albums. The second one, Prioritise Pleasure was nominated for a Mercury Prize and gave her the critical and commercial success she was looking for. She has also won an Ivor Novello visionary award for her songwriting. She puts in the graft that has produced a body of work which is a mix of punchy lyrics unafraid of a swear word, voluptuous choral arrangements and slickly produced pop. She takes the personal and turns it into the big political issues of female sexuality, independence, the rights of the LGBTQIA community (she identifies as bi-sexual). Then she mixes it with her love of choirs and musical theatre (she played Sally Bowles in Cabaret on the West End last year) and puts on a show.

But all of that counts for nothing if she can’t find her audience. She knew there was one out there waiting for her distinctive blend of talent.

Music journalists back in the 1980s and 1990s were quite sniffy about audiences and what bestowed cool on a band. If teenage girls liked you, they would be dismissive of your output. If Dad’s liked you, you were passé and safe. Mums – well they weren’t even included in the discussion. In fact the only audiences worth cultivating were music journalists and aspiring music journalists. Artists were supposed to work towards having an audience of joyless music snobs. Any attempt at joy was seen as easy, commercial, sell-out.

Nothing about Self Esteem is easy. She is able to sell out three nights in the Manchester Academy because she has found her audience who she treats with respect by baring her soul and her vulnerability.

Towards the end of the evening, after we had punched the air to “Mother” , swayed to “The Curse” (my favourite track of hers) and sworn through “Fucking Wizardry” and “69”, Rebecca sat on the edge of the stage. A member of the audience shouted “I love you”. She smiled. Then with disarming honesty she said in her soft South Yorkshire brogue, “Thank you. I’ve had problems loving myself this year, so thank you. I know I come out here and sing this empowering shit, but…” We laughed. We recognised this inconsistency in our own lives.

I want to take that energy, vulnerability and rawness into my writing and my comedy. There is a tired trope that a comedian should be able to play any room. I have never felt comfortable with that sentiment. I might not be there to preach or covert to my world view. I am there to entertain, but if a room full of bigots like my material, then I’ve failed at comedy.

Self Esteem was savvy enough to know there was an audience for her work. And she knew she could find it. She trusted herself, amidst all the mainstream messages about age, gender and sexuality and the voices of imposter syndrome, that she had something to say and a way to say it that would find an audience.

In some ways, the show is an adult glee club. Swearing mixed with perfect harmonies, theatrical choreography and costume changes. But it is the power of the lyrics that resonate to bring that beautiful audience together in rage and recognition. A thoroughly deserved five stars.

Do I have any negative statements about the evening? I wish there had been more room to dance and maybe to sit down occasionally. (See, told you I was middle-aged).

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