For a band as rarefied and reclusive as Adult Jazz, a bit of awe is expected at one of their only live shows to promote their latest album So Sorry So Slow. They create an aura of expectation around them; their last release was 2016’s Earrings Off! and they very rarely play live. Hence, tonight’s show at the ICA feels particularly exciting, a literal once-in-a-decade experience for most.
For a support, they eschew having a band, instead opting for a performance of Yas Clarke’s The Thicket; a composition for four voices where each voice speaks a word, sometimes a syllable, of the text. It’s at once sombre and disorientating, words swirling in and out of comprehension, harmonies overlapping. Some of the audience sit down at the front, and when the quartet end, one of them lets out a little snort of laughter, a release of having managed to get through the intimidatingly serious and nigh-on impossible performance (each performer keeps time with a click track in their ear rather than keeping to any outward beat).
When Adult Jazz take the stage, the ICA is packed out and overwhelmingly warm with the heat of bodies crammed together. What ensues is less in line with the traditional theatre of a gig. They rarely speak to the audience, all moving around the stage and swapping instruments at various points. A cello appears; someone plays an electric guitar with a bow; drummers swap in and out; a trombone makes several appearances throughout the performance. They’re happy to wait, taking long pauses between songs until the tuning is absolutely right, until everyone has exactly what they need. the audience, in turn, treats it unlike any other gig, whooping for the ones they recognise, but there’s no singing along, no loud proclamations of fandom or emotion. They’re happy to be washed by what the band want to present them with.
Since their appearance in 2014 with Gist Is, Adult Jazz have always been singular, melding polyrhythms with indie sensibilities, layered instrumentation with obliquely heartbreaking lyrics. All music journalism crutches are swept away when writing about them; they’re a little bit of this, a little bit of that, but no easy comparison presents itself. In a live setting, all elements are laid bare. Their new material feels distinctly slower, more measured than their early songs; old favourites ‘Am Gone’ seem to burst from the stage.
Afterwards, people joke to each other that they’d better savour what they’ve just seen because they won’t get a chance to fill up on Adult Jazz for another ten years. It’s not a complaint, more an acknowledgement that the specialness this band creates takes time to simmer and stew.
Adult Jazz’s new album, So Sorry So Slow, is out now via Spare Thought.
