Isaac Gracie - EartH Dalston - 26 Nov 18

Isaac Gracie is funny. It isn’t comedy night, but he gets a laugh out of the EartH audience in Dalston as he holds up his arms and looks down at the vintage top he says he’s invested in especially for this, the final night of his current tour. Being quite long, he wonders whether the top looks a bit like a dress. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until he says it, but ha-ha yes, it is long and dress-like, in a cool sixties, The Monkees type way. I like it. He looks mighty fine and I admire a person who has distinct style and carries themselves with confidence. I believe ‘confidence’ is the operative word for the night.

The last time I saw Isaac Gracie live was almost seven months ago, in April at the sold out Hackney Empire (see previous entry). In short, back then I was smitten by his vocal talent and incredibly well crafted songs and bewitched by his other worldliness. That gig confirmed what a highly accomplished songwriter he is, but I also felt excited by the sense that this guy was on the threshold of something bigger than the Empire. Promise is a very heady thing, and that promise, I’m happy to say, is being converted into a tangible return.

There’s been a marked change in the man’s set and performance since the spring. What the hell happened? Everything seems to have been tweaked and tightened up. The band doesn’t shuffle on - they make an impressive entrance through smoke and lights to the tune of a swelling celestial choir. What a devine way to arrive! (Note for IG for next time: could you add the smell of church incense please? You may guffaw, but wouldn’t it be gorgeous?) Gracie gets stuck right in, moving around the large stage, sizing it and us up. This isn’t just a showcase for his songs, this is full blown performance. He is charged, giving his best, tearing his thumb on his guitar strings. Adrenaline prevents him from even noticing the blood.. The guy owns the place - his voice seems more assured, louder even, and it fills the venue hitting the ceiling and bouncing off the back of the auditorium. 

In a lineup of solely self-written songs, there’s no space for covers now. The running order of songs is perfectly pitched with ass-kicking highs and heart stopping lows, all in exactly the right place. The new additional songs for his first album are more upbeat, but equally as heartfelt and passionate as the first batch. IG’s songwriting has shifted too, notably in a brand new song I think is called Little Blue House. This song hits us between the eyes. I’d never heard it before, and as with all of his lyrics, Gracie can beautifully translate his feelings into a language we can all relate to. This song conveys an acerbic tone, one which points a finger and says “Oi! I sussed you out!” It is strong and mighty and deliciously cathartic. More! I need to hear it again and sing it loudly on a roadtrip! 

Ending with an invitation to sing along to the beautiful Last Words - a song that is rapidly becoming his Everlong - I realise that a summer of gigging and hard graft has helped Gracie evolve and grow in stature and confidence.  The stage is his home, he smiles as we sing his words and we all bask in his glow. 

Yeah, it was an alright night. ;) 

Isaac Gracie Review. Hackney Empire 26 April 2018

Having been enjoyably warmed up by a lounge-suited and powerfully voiced Matt Maltese (who could probably write and deliver a half decent Bond theme my companion surmised - praise indeed), I contemplated how Isaac Gracie, an accomplished songwriter on record, would come across live. His musical style is a beautiful mixed curiosity, and last Thursday at the Hackney Empire I was delighted to observe that his audience is too.

It's appealing to feel part of a tribe, and the Isaac Gracie party, like his music, is an eclectic one which is both relatable and inclusive. I like it. People are easy to talk to and will tell you, with some passion, how they first discovered ig and what song they first heard. Mine was “Terrified” it was an instant love on first hearing thing and, quite literally and amazingly, the same thing happened over again with each subsequent song I heard. For the ‘analogue’ among us, no one is afraid of buying the vinyl, you know the needle will stay on, from edge to label, times two. On digital, everyone has him on loop. The shared connection is a funny, wonderful thing.  

I cast an eye over the gathering crowd and saw a wonderfully diverse bunch. Not wishing to be robbed of personal identity, many shun a uniform. But the human race is a fickle breed and when it comes to gathering for a gig, consciously or unconsciously, we tend to show our alleigence to an artist by mirroring them, or simply wearing the t-shirt. Over the balcony below, just as I expected, were young girls, wearing floaty seventies retro with long Rossetti tresses parted in the middle, channeling the man they'd come to see. Standing shoulder to shoulder with them were almost an equal number of blokes and a full gamut of ages which made up a composed and expectant mosh. The Gracie appeal is wide and I hazard a guess that, like the Texan we got talking to post gig, the growing throng contained a higher than average number of once broken-hearted. (Chase: if you're reading this, she was mad to let you go, you're going to be fine. Ask that actress out.)

ig took to the stage resplendent in heeled boots, red flares and a red flowered top. I couldn't help thinking that he'd dressed like a young Robert Plant crossed with, well, the venue we were sitting in actually - the Hackney Empire, beautiful and crimson! Between songs, as he thanks us and tells us about seeing Russell Brand here once, the impression is there is something intrinsically likeable about him, there is a transparent shyness and a warmth that escapes him and simply charms. So unlike Robert Plant, ig comes across as more self-deprecating flamingo than full blown strutting peacock.  

"All In My Mind" was the heart-on-sleeve opening number that instaintly drew me in, had me sitting forward, hanging on his every word. It took but a matter of a few lines to confirm that the talent shown in his recordings could be replicated beautifully and skilfully live. He was aided in the majority of the numbers with a backing band numbering two, both expert in their roles, and as is the case with all truly excellent musicians and a receptive atmosphere, live can surpass the recordings. And so it did. I was blissfully hooked and willingly reeled in ever closer throughout the concert by the gift of that expressive voice.

ig's vocals and wonderful songwriting have already been noticed and lauded by the great and the good. All his songs contain poetic lyrics that are from and about the heart. His tender words are delivered in a range covering all bases, from the sorrowful and cracked "Love Ain't Always So Good" (the crowed barely breathed throughout the entire song) to the full blown bang-it-out rock, as in the chorus of the histrionic "Death of You and I" - an epic rollercoaster of a story that dips a toe into bosa nova and Latin. There are moments of showmanship that break through in this song, but I'm not going to spoil it for you here. These two songs alone demonstrate the diversity of the guy and yes, he has proven a consummate writer for the lovelorn, but also brings shades of the more commercial, as in soothing "Telescope" and "Running on Empty" which defies you not to join in with the chorus. 

ig closes the set with an encore and the appropriately named 'Last Words'. Dare I venture to call this song a classic? Yes I do. I love it so, and as a feminist and lover of men who carry the flame for us, the lines "if you only want the woman you saw on TV, then your eyes are open but you just can't see" makes me want to sing them out aloud - which I happily do, because I have been politely invited to do so. Thank you Isaac.

Who can tell where ig will lead us next? More tear jerkers or more showy numbers? I hope not just in one direction (no pun intended). I hope he will remain as humble, diverse and as curious as he is today. One thing is for sure, he is only going up, and where he goes I will follow. I feel comfortable and totally at home in his tribe.