Aimee Mann has come a long way hasn't she? From winning Boston's annual Rock-n-Roll Rumble in 1983 as front-person for 'Til Tuesday to her glory days as MTV's mid-80s poster girl and her gradual elevation to serious singer-songstress status. With three quite remarkable albums and one stunning soundtrack ('Magnolia') to her credit it's no wonder that she has a shedload of adorning fans creaming themselves to see her perform.
The stage is dipped in aquamarine and a daydream-like soundtrack of beaches and sea-shells transports us into the perfect sombre yet wistful mood. Aimee comes on, all smiles and stripy-trousers. For such a serious musician, she's funny with a charmingly self-effacing manner. She engages the audience, takes requests and tells of the time she went backstage at an Oasis gig with the intention of looking cool and instead ended up feeling like a "fu*king idiot." She warns that 'if you ever get the chance to go backstage just don't. Because you end up standing around like a jackass'. Sound advice.
Starting off with her cover of the Harry Nilsson classic 'One' (from the 'Magnolia' Soundtrack), she belts out gem after gem. The set runs the course of her solo career from 'Whatever' (which languished in record company BS merger-land for years) to the title track from her new album 'Lost in Space', out in late August. Other highlights include 'Red Vines' and 'Save Me' as well as a heart-breaking solo rendition of '4th of July' showcasing her buttery soft voice and gentle guitar strumming.
All the work has at its core a1970s lazing-about-barefoot feel to it. But Mann adds a distinctively modern twist with her lyrics creating a moody tension between the comforting happy harmonies and the melancholy sentiments. It is kind of like re-reading the letters of someone you once loved and now realise maybe you shouldn't have let them go.
It is so refreshing to see a female singer songwriter who isn't too earnest, delivering wishy-washily woeful tales about how crap men are. Instead, Mann writes marvellously witty pieces about the complexities that mar relationships as well as taking it on the chin when she knows she's at fault.
While every one of her songs is clearly worked on and revisited many times over, she makes it sound so effortless. It is as if these songs were just trapped in jewel-encrusted treasure boxes and all Aimee had to do was turn a key. But don't be mistaken - none of the songs are overly precious or too clever-clever. And they have some of the most deliciously intricate pop melodies to grace our ears for a very long time.
The ardour of the audience is rewarded by two encores featuring 'Jacob Marley's Chain' (which could easily pass for 'Blonde on Blonde'-era Dylan) and her mesmerizing collaboration with Elvis Costello 'The Other End of the Telescope'. We are left begging for more. Fingers crossed that Oasis are backstage waiting to feel like jackasses.
