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Alison Goldfrapp has gone through a few phases. Yodelling milk maid, filthy Cabaret strumpet, glam rock dominatrix, each with a new wardrobe and sonic accompaniment to match. With fourth album Seventh Tree we find her channelling a Wicker Man-esque folk siren. Fitting, then, that we get the soundtrack to this fine film before the band arrive on stage. This is a record made for those late summer evenings, and the best is done to recreate this on a freezing night in Yorkshire. Despite being open barely a month, the Academy has already got stickier floors than your average toilet venue. Go figure.
'Paper Bag', from debut Felt Mountain, isn't the most immediate of set-openers, but her hushed tones ("No time to fuck...but you like the rush") silences the room to attention. An upbeat and chiming 'A&E' comes next and gets a few nods, before an extended 'Little Bird' brings out some almost terrifying acid trip visuals, swirling around the picnic basket and Maypole stage dressings.
Never the most banter-driven performer, Alison manages to terrify an audience member into submission for having the audacity to film a track on his camera. Kids these days, eh? Still for the most part she seems in a chipper mood, half marching half twirling around the stage in an oversized pink bed sheet.
Unfortunately the newer songs get a little lost when played along side their elder companions. The crowd seem grateful for a little shuffle to 'Satin Chic', but when a trio of Seventh Tree tracks follow, they are buried under the middle aged chatter. A shame, because the already ethereal 'Clowns' is bloody gorgeous.
Herein lies the Goldfrapp Paradox. They now have an equally balanced catalogue of loud ones / quiet ones, but the two can’t really coexist together live, not in this setting anyhow. It’s not the band's fault as such, you just need a patient audience, and this wasn’t one of them.
We finally get some Black Cherry tunes in the closing trio. 'Train' clicks and whirrs like, well, a train, and 'Black Cherry' brings out the hugging from the lovers. Finally, the ever filthy 'Strict Machine' explodes in a dazzle of spotlights, feedback and some moderate dancing. Goldfrapp have never been a band to repeat themselves, so it’ll be interesting to see what the next phase brings.
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The thing with Goldfrapp
is that on the whole, the quieter songs actually come across the best when played live. The trouble is that the people who go to see them play Ooh La La and Number One don't realise this and fail to hear how good Utopia and Little Bird are because they're too busy talking to their mates, therefore ruining it for everyone else.

Goldfrapp
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