Beth Orton cusses with a frequency and gusto which would impress the roughest navvy. Her first three spoken words tonight are 'f*ck,' 'f*ck' and 'f*ck', which are rushed out in one giddy giggle acknowledging the impressive grandeur of the Royal Albert Hall. She thus punctures the inflated sense of occasion generated by the venue and probably shocks the socks off her more genteel fans.
Orton has come a long way since she first made her name working with William Orbit and Red Snapper and became a familiar figure in London's hipper clubbing circles. Her setting of sweetly melancholic, neo-folk melodies to cool, down-tempo beats had her famously dubbed 'the comedown queen' when her debut LP surfaced in 1996, as she made what was perceived as the perfect music for twitchy clubbers needing to calm down as the sun came up. She proved that The Song is at home anywhere, not just alone on a stool with an acoustic guitar.
Tonight, Orton makes her entrance with a gasp and some swearing, mutters something about not having any drugs and then launches solo into the urban'n'western 'Heartland Truck Stop', her voice so galloping and breathless it's apparent that nerves are getting the better of her. It's still a problem on 'Paris Train', where she's joined by her band - which includes long-termers guitarist Ted Barnes and double bassist Ali Friend of Red Snapper - and an eight-piece string section she introduces as The Wrecking Crew.
The orchestral fulsomeness suits much of Orton's material, most notably a sublime 'Mount Washington', where her charcoal-soft tones are set against a tsunami-strength crescendo. Sometimes, though, you almost wish she'd sack the strings and get back to her strikingly effective basics. The gorgeous, light-footed 'Ted's Waltz' is happily left to Orton - whose voice has now settled down - Barnes and Friend, plus one violin and cello, while on 'Thinking About Tomorrow' her lowering melancholy is given vital space to resonate.
In a set drawing from all three albums, there are so many jokey asides from Orton - about her uncomfortably high heels, about Barnes' broken foot and her knickers - you almost expect her to introduce a juggler. But if Orton's chatter sometimes palls, it's an altogether warmer and more personally appropriate communication than say, lecturing a crowd about fair trade. There's always been something of the goofy charmer about Beth Orton; it's touching that not even The Royal Albert Hall can knock that out of her.
