Tindersticks suit the opulent yet slightly faded grandeur of an auditorium such as the Usher Hall. Although it seems as though they may have overstretched themselves in trying to fill this large space, with only two-thirds of the stalls and upper circle filled, their audience has persisted and remained devoted over twenty years now and there is a raptly attentive feeling in the air, as though ready to welcome ageing lovers onstage.
This tour differs from the norm for Tindersticks, in that it finds them performing, for the first time in a live setting, music composed for six films by the French film-maker Claire Denis while excerpts from the films play out onscreen behind them. Having first provided the soundtrack to 1996’s “Nenette Et Boni”, Denis and the group have built up a quite remarkable working relationship in which the music perfectly reflects Denis’s striking and intimate images, almost providing a further internal dialogue for the characters beyond the camera.
This is the first night for the tour, and a technical hitch means the band come on slightly late and a further screen problem on beginning causes some awkward mumbling. Tindersticks front man and vocalist Stuart Staples, gorgeously svelte bear of a man that he is, seemingly lives in a world of mumbles.
Following a brief, lyrical opening without images, however, we come to the main part of the concert. Tindersticks’ music for Denis’s films almost veers into ambient lounge territory, gliding over the luminous visuals which seem so tenderly close to their characters and situations that one should be able to sense their very breath. The rumbling train tracks of “35 Shots of Rum” or the agoraphobic African plains of “White Material” are evocatively soundtracked. The sexual violence of 2001’s controversial “Trouble Every Day” is also represented by a startlingly disturbing sequence showing a vampiric Beatrice Dalle literally devouring her male lover.
It’s the finest performance of live music to cinema I’ve witnessed, conjuring a daydreaming spell which is only broken when Staples signals the interval by thanking the audience for being patient with them and they’ll return shortly to perform songs from their own back catalogue. The apology seems needless, although one does suspect there are a few rusty glitches in the new nine-piece line-up, complemented by a small string section, which need ironed out.
A brief second half flies by with Tindersticks trademark wounded machismo poise and hushed balladry, climaxing in the full-grown weepie that is “Tiny Tears”. Cautious looks between the band members signal an end to the evening. While they seem pleased with the audience adoration, they also clearly feel something has been amiss with their performance this evening. And so, after a rousing ovation from us, the lights go up and Tindersticks have obviously left the building with us wanting more.
Performance: 16 October 2011