Shallow Phil.

Something something something something pop music.

SUBMOTION ORCHESTRA/ CORNELIA, The Academy, 14/10/12

“I write songs and in turn they rewrite me”.  So claims London-based Swede Cornelia on her Facebook.  It’s a nice sentiment but through the course of her solo show we are diverted, even lightly intrigued, but sadly untransformed.  Her voice is strong, low breathy intimacies turning to bright, harsh aluminium tones at the high end, and her synthesised backing errs on the side of approachable chunky simplicity.  She’s at her best when she rides simple keyboard hums or Omnichord buzzes, bold enunciation and sudden changes in vocal register adding drama (although the kooky, spooky hand jives are too much – Hot Gossip disbanded years ago, you know).  But we’ve seen a lot of theatrical, artfully coiffured women channel their cyber-Kate Bush over electronic beats and, likable though the set is, by the end we’re just a bit Bjored.

Seven people are not an orchestra: fact.  No surprise that Submotion Orchestra has hit on the term, though, as their whole show is about justifying electronic comedown music through the supposed authentication of live musicianship, climbing out of the chillout room and into the salon.  And that’s all well and good, but the trouble is that crass, clumsy downtempo pop sounds equally facile when played by a Leeds (ahem) orchestra as it does bashed together in FruityLoops, and aside from the odd dubstep-inspired chunk of bassweight, Submotion’s thin ditties mostly resemble offcuts from the catalogues of Curiosity and Morcheeba remixed by Alex Reece.  The playing is technically strong, especially the percussion and flugelhorn, but unlike the best dance productions the music has no poise, no sense of space or balance, it’s just an endless smug celebration of proper musoship for its own dubious sake: look, Ma, both hands.   Ironically, the band’s best weapon is its singer, who has a sweet voice slightly reminiscent of Lamb’s Lou Rhodes, and her parts are smothered in clumsy digital delay.  It’s like they’re doing things arsefacewards solely to annoy us. 

The harsh truth about Submotion is that they sound like Sting’s backing band cutting loose and jamming at soundcheck, when he’s not looking (probably out back, doing the Downward Dog on a mound of quinoa and lutes).  We don’t know whether we’re writing this review or whether this review is writing us, but we know we’re bored with this vapid, self-conscious stodge.