Primavera Review: Kate Tempest
One of the great things about Primavera is having the chance to unearth musical treasures which you may have otherwise overlooked. Although spoken-word is not normally associated with this independent music festival, this year saw poet and playwright Kate Tempest occupy two slots on the lineup. She showcased her latest album release, Let Them Eat Chaos (2016), and brought a new artistic dimension to the weekend. The Croydon-born wordsmith takes poetry out of the books and onto the stage, combining it with her passion for music and theatre, which culminates in a thrillingly, thought-provoking show.
In a world filled with with social networks and superficiality, Tempest’s words are a refreshing wake-up call to the feigned happiness fuelled by modern culture. She makes full use of her newly acquired platform to help listeners reconnect with the world around them. When she took to the stage at Apolo on May 31st, Kate encouraged the crowd to put their phones away and be a part of the experience. The atmosphere is reminiscent of an old storytelling session, the silence in the room adding to the intrigue of what is about to unfold.
Her confidence is not initially evident, hidden by her unassuming image. As her voice pounds across the theatre, grabbing the attention of even the most uncommitted spectator, her ability to draw in a crowd shines through. The power of her poetry is chilling, strengthened further by the talents of the trio of musicians backing her. As they play their way through her most recent album, Tempest demonstrates her ability to intertwine spoken-word, hip-hop, funk and grime to create an undefinable genre.
Between bouts of hip-hop and rhymes, the mood is brought back down as she begins a six-character story which gives a fly-on-the-wall peek into life on a South London street. During this performance, Kate is in full swing as a theatrical poet. With each gripping story of loneliness and solitude, we are forced to take a long hard look at our lives; how we suffer in silence and the disconnect that seems to be growing between us. Each story strikes a chord, audaciously laying bare the realities of modern living.
Through the medium of hip-hop, Tempest releases anger and brings up the tempo of the gig. She roars, “Europe is lost, America lost, London lost”, but it’s alright because “there’s two for one drinks in the clubs.” As she slates modern politics and consumerist society, it’s safe to say there is not a phone in sight. “Massacres, massacres, massacres — new shoes”. Our throwaway culture and disregard for what's happening in the world is deplored. Scorning the ability to forget the past so easily, she gives modern culture a good talking to and she pulls no punches. Her attention to detail throughout the album, which is performed in its entirety, transports listeners into stories of lost love and discontent, the heavier rapping pulling them back into reality.
As the show draws to a close, a heavy silence hangs in the air and the audience is left with a slightly uncomfortable feeling. Something special has just happened, which even the wordsmith herself might struggle to describe.
Her Thursday night show at Fòrum, on the other hand, lacked somewhat the intensity of the previous night’s gig as part of Primavera in the city. The larger outdoor setting, the less attentive crowd — with many just passing for a look — took away from the atmosphere. It was a reaffirmation that Wednesday at Apolo had been a unique experience which would be hard to reproduce on a big stage.
Rising up in a time of politicisation of the masses in the U.K, Tempest provides a generational voice that talks a lot of sense. Her concerts bring spoken-word to the music scene and give audiences young and old something to think about. It seems her talents are made for the stage, with her live performance greatly exceeding the impact of her recorded album. She is a performer at heart, making her live shows an unmissable experience.