Chris Mitchell
Having nearly imploded thanks to the success of Dummy, Portishead seemed to be trying to avoid attracting any attention whatsoever to themselves, as shown by 1997’s low-key self-titled second album. But unlike the deliberate attempt at fan alienation a la Nirvana’s In Utero, Portishead’s second album went deeper and darker than Dummy, repaying repeated listenings and becoming more strangely beautiful each time.
How, then, does a band justify releasing a live album when they’ve only produced two records in the studio? Well, like Spiritualized, Portishead are a band uninterested in staying in one place. Having got over the shock of Dummy‘s mass success, Portishead seem to be taking glee in messing around with their own sonic sacred cows. PNYC captures them doing just that live in New York with a full orchestra in attendance.
The sound of strings is kept remarkably subtle throughout the album, with Geoff Barrows’ scratching and Beth Gibbons’ voice still dominating the proceedings, using silence as very much part of the Portishead sound. Tunes are messed up and pulled apart and then thrown back together at the last minute, (“Glory Box” being the classic example) but without destroying the grandeur of the songs’ original incarnations.
What makes this record a must-have for Portishead fans is the clarity of Beth Gibbons’ voice. The actual recording of the band’s sound is impeccable and generates an even more intimate atmosphere than that found on the records. Equally impressive is how well songs from those two albums sit together in the live context. Where Portishead initially appeared as a jarring departure from Dummy, here the tracks complement one another perfectly.
PNYC is an album where Portishead demonstrate their self-confidence and their ability to reinvent their own sounds. More than that, it’s an album that is perhaps the best realisation yet of Portishead’s own quiet, beautiful brand of alienation and despair.
