Jaye Bartell @ The Hug & Pint, Glasgow, 3 Feb
Tonight's performance is far from perfect but Jaye Bartell proves himself a witty, charming performer and, more importantly, no less of an enigma in person
Around the midpoint of his set, Jaye Bartell asks whether any of the dozen or so of us in the audience caught him last time he was in Glasgow, when he supported Angel Olsen. “No,” comes the sheepish response, at which he chuckles and makes a self-deprecating remark about the trajectories their respective careers have taken since. He’s being too hard on himself of course, and not just because scarcely few songwriters in the indie world could hope to compare to Olsen’s monumental rise.
In reality, Bartell has spent the interim three-and-a-half-years quietly honing his peculiar manner of songwriting, as evidenced on 2016’s dream-like memoir Light Enough and last year’s excellent reflection on the sorry state of the world as of late, In a Time of Trouble a Wild Exultation. Tonight’s performance is a firm reminder of the strength of that material, as well as the haunting charm of his earlier record Loyalty, which provides the opening number Lilly. While most of Bartell’s music proceeds at a tortoise’s stroll, the track is especially dirge-like tonight, and to great effect. Mournful and unsettling in its ambiguity, it describes its narrator’s apparent metamorphosis into a bird-like creature, which Bartell recounts in a series of increasingly deeper sighs. 'I’m staying in the cage', he sings, painting a process that sounds less like a transformation than a slow descent into someplace dark and alone.
Another highlight is the melancholic Tuesdays, taken from Bartell's latest album, in which he channels Sun Kil Moon with the ego kept in-check. In two short anecdotes – a childhood memory of his mother returning from hospital and a more recent exchange with his father, who wants to know how often he still walks his long-dead dog – Bartell outlines the way that time inevitably changes the people and places in our lives. Poignantly, his reminiscence comes to an abrupt halt at what feels like halfway through a bar, as if he’s been cut off unexpectedly.
The duet Give Erin a Compliment (So Kind) comes across well too, though the rest of the set isn’t executed quite as successfully, and there are a few hiccups here and there. Dance With Me in particular is a bit of a disappointment, with Bartell and his touring partner sounding a little shaky as they fumble through the tempo changes and make do with a grungy, unflattering, organ sound. Such teething problems are to be expected, however, given this is the first night of their tour. And while he doesn't always do his underrated catalogue justice in this instance, Bartell nevertheless proves himself a witty, charming performer and, more importantly, no less of an enigma in person.