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THE ROCKET CONCERT REVIEW Nov. 18 l998
"IF DIAMANDA HAD LIVED EVEN 200 YEARS
AGO I'M CERTAIN SHE'D HAVE BEEN BURNED AT THE STAKE"
by Sharon Knolle
Diamanda Galas
Corcodile Cafe
Seattle 11/2/98
The Crocodile Cafe, with its jungle/tiki motif and limited space,
seems an odd place to see goth diva Diamanda Galas, but for loyal fans
the chance to get close to her compensated for the inelegance of such
as small setting.
The gathered faithful included some Sisters of Perpetual
Indulgence(the men and women who dress up like nuns at Mardi Gras), as
well as every remnant stripe of goth and new wave.
The show was simplicity itself: just Diamanda--dressed simply in
black, her eyelids covered with fabulous sparkly blue eye
shadow--alone at a piano, without even an opening band to warm up the
impatient crowd. Neither were there any theatrics, fake blood or
dramatic lighting. Diamanda's four-octave vocalizations are drama
enough for any performance: Her voice ranges from guttural groans to
bird-like croaks to an opera-like vibrato. Indeed, her penchant for
ugly sounds and her undeniable talent and style make her the Maria
Callas of goth rock.
If Diamanda had lived even 200 years ago I'm certain she'd have been
burned at the stake as a clear case of demonic possession. How else to
explain her unearthly voice or her eerie ability to sound like more
than one person-like a gathering of harpies or a church-full of
Pentecostals speaking in tongues? In her recital-like performance, she
actually did sing in tongues, including French, and something Middle
Eastern and others unidentifiable to these ears, her voice hovering
above the room like a Muslim call to prayer. To quote an older song,
one of the few from the back catalogue that Diamanda performed, she
didn't chat about despair, she just embodied it.
In her barely-an-hour set, Diamanda mostly sang the covers from her
latest release, MALEDICTION AND PRAYER. I do wonder whether people
weaned on Nine Inch Nails were able to recognize Diamanda's covers of
blues songs such as "The Thrill Is Gone," memorably recorded by BB
King. Johnny Cash's "25
Minutes to Go"-a countdown to a condemned man's hanging--seemed a more
logical choice as Diamanda's oeuvre includes many rants against
captial punishment. The Cash cover translated fine, but when Diamanda
deconstructs the blues, it's like vivesection. The blues are supposed
to help you transcend your pain, not drown in it, a point Ms. Galas
seems to have missed. After an hour of such concentrated fury (and
clove cigarette inhalation), I was glad to get out and breathe some
fresh air.
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