Live Review: Jo Quail / Jon Gomm - Deaf Institute, Manchester
7th March 2024
Words: Dan Barnes
Photo Credit: Tim Finch
After an illness-forced postponement just before Christmas, the Parallel Worlds tour finally reaches Manchester’s Deaf Institute, and rarely has there been a more comfortable fit of performance and venue.
I first encountered cellist, Jo Quail, back in 2018 when she appeared as the opening act on the Amenra and Boris show at the Gorilla, and there was something sufficiently compelling about the performance that night that I made the effort to seek out her music. Apocalyptica had used cellos – four of them – back in the late noughties, but Ms. Q has been successfully straddling the worlds of classical music and post rock, finding herself equally at home and accepted at concert halls and proms, as well as Hellfest and Damnation festivals. The end of the month will see her sharing billing at Norway’s Inferno with Taake, Gorgoroth and Cattle Decapitation, among others.
Her performance is a feat of both musical virtuosity and nerd-like levels of technical proficiency. Beginning with White Salt Stag’s tribal rhythms and slow passing of bow over string, you start to become in awe of what is happening on the stage. Every part of the composition is created live by Jo, sampled and looped in situ, building hypnotic percussive foundations as she draws deep emotion from her electric cello. “It’s always fun to play that one”, she admits.
From the Sea’s ominous opener Rex Infractus mesmerises and enchants in equal measure, the tune alternating between playfully epic and brooding drone, but never anything less than utterly compelling. Making her apology that her voice is taking a turn for Marge Simpson, we are introduced to Ferdinand, the 1820’s acoustic cello that proves Ms Q is a master musician, totally at home without the bells, whistles and accompaniments of her looping system. New composition, Magdalene, is mournfully uplifting and Supplication, from the latest release, was the result of home recording during the long lockdown caper we were all subject to, when her collaborators shared contributions over the interwebs.
Mandrel Cantus came with the perils of being reliant on people unaware of the technology in use and a little explanation of how the NASA controls at her feet manipulate the delays so important to her pieces. There are times on this one when the cello is pushed to the limit of what the instrument is capable of; Gold comes with the warning not to change strings just before a tour, but if it’s an issue, the transcendental flavour is not overwhelmed. The set ends with Forge, in which the killer low end and dynamic, jittery notes come together to create a cinematic vision in music.
Earlier in the week, Ms Q had joined Enslaved on stage in London and, with that band in Manchester the following night, I took the opportunity to ask Alan - Jo’s tour manager and all-round smashing fella (I was ‘ob-nobbin’) - whether we’d get a repeat? Alas, ‘twas a but a one off.
In what must be one of the quickest turnarounds in gig history, Jo left the small Deaf Institute stage and Jon Gomm walked on, plugged in and stared his set. The first thing that bamboozled me about Jon’s playing is the dexterity he employs.
He mightn’t loop in the way Jo does, but his style sees him using the body of his guitar for percussion, picking strings, an over-the-neck fretting technique and constant re-tuning during his performance. He mentioned later that he’s his own worst enemy for having each song in a different tuning, sometimes within the same song, and he wasn’t kidding.
Waterfall has an eastern flavour to it, and it’s a crime against music that Jon’s instrumental rendition of Joni Mitchell’s Both Side Now hasn’t been recorded; it’s easy to become hard-to-impress when you see a lot of musical artists, but this tune caused me to shiver to my very core. Astounding.
There’s an ongoing issue with the sound and he’s getting a lop-sided mix, causing feedback in his monitors. Out in the auditorium it sounds great, from where I’m standing at least. Originally from Blackpool, Jon introduces Hey Child as influenced by the transient population of it, and other coastal towns, where damaged people, running from whatever they’re fleeing, come to the end of the line. It’s dreamlike quality finds Jon playing in a more orthodox style, but still demonstrating the kind of technique most players would kill for.
The Ghost Inside You, from The Faintest Idea album, is achingly beautiful and deals with the need to be able to let go; Shchedryk Hrad is based around an ancient Ukrainian folk song – because he’s chasing the big dollars – and is a song of hope. The title’s English translation is A Swallow in a Hailstorm and considers the end of winter and the hope of the new spring. Combining the tempestuous with the fragile, it epitomises Jon’s artistic vision.
Telepathy is a dark subject matter around a blues progression and Deep Sea Fishes features an audience participation part and a tune that has a distinctly aquatic mode.
In isolation, you’d probably wouldn’t see Jo and Jon as natural touring partners, but when you have each artist’s vision laid out in proximity, the genius of the Parallel Worlds experiment becomes clear. To round off the evening Jo returns to the stage, along with Ferdinand, and both worlds come together in a piece that exemplifies the night’s ethos.
Moody, brooding and melancholic, yet also bright, upbeat and contemplative. This was a show that revelled in its apparent simplicity and demonstrated the miracle of music.
Photo credits: Tim Finch Photography
