Dark Blue - Anohni Sings Lou Reed

An Unforgettable November Night in Dublin's National Concert Hall

Anohni is an otherworldy creative force and to witness her in person is nothing short of the finest privilege.

From her spectral voice to her ethics and activism, Anohni is everything an artist should be; provocative, enchanting, and unique.

She has been the only performer to ever freeze me to the spot. When I heard ‘Hope There’s Someone’ played on the radio nearly twenty years ago, I literally could not move until it had concluded. It was a song which was so inherently chilling, haunting and evocative all at once, and a lifelong connection with her work was formed.

Oh, I'm scared of the middle place

Between light and nowhere

I don't want to be the one

Left in there…left in there….

Hope There’s Someone - Ahnoni & The Johnsons

I first saw her with the Johnsons in 2005, when she played Vicar Street on the ‘I Am A Bird Now’ tour, and then the following year as part of Hal Willner’s stunning Leonard Cohen Tribute ‘Came So Far For Beauty’, at which Reed also played; kicking and clawing his way through a visceral rendition of ‘The Stranger Song.’

Like all the truly great artists, Anohni is elusive. She can disappear for long periods of time, whether it is to regroup or regrow, one can never be quite sure. What is certain, however, is that she will always appear in her finest form when ready, and we are lucky to be in one of those moments at present. An icy November evening in the Gothic majesty of the National Concert Hall in Dublin set a suitably funereal tone to the proceedings, but this was nothing sombre, quite the opposite; this was a celebration in the truest sense.

Anohni’s ties with Lou Reed run deep. Whilst preparing his phenomenal album ‘The Raven’ (his tonal tribute to Edgar Allen Poe), Reed enlisted Anohni as a backing singer (the story of which can be found in this recent interview). This led to an extensive bout of touring and collaboration, as well as one of the finest of Reed’s live albums, ‘Animal Serenade’, in which Anohni can be heard throughout.

Reed’s passing in 2013 left a cultural void which was both vast and heartbreaking, but also a body of work filled with clues, fragments and prompts which will be utilised for decades. Anohni played as part of a tribute concert in New York’s Lincoln Centre in 2016, along with Sonic Youth’s Lee Ranaldo, and Joan ‘As Policewoman’ Wasser (the latter of which also perfomed as part of Reed’s touring ensemble). Anohni’s cover of ‘Candy Says’ (performed on the night) has long been part of the singer’s repertoire, gaining status to rival the original, and it seems to have opened the gateway to something broader and more ambitious.

This is where we are brought to ‘Dark Blue’, a concept which Anohni floated with Reed in the mid ‘00s (and was shot down with characteristically sardonic flair, with Reed moving on to work with Metallica on the much maligned and misunderstood ‘Lulu’). The premise for this event is simple, Anohni shares stories and interpretations of Reed’s songs, all through her particular lens and voice. Three concerts were held. NYC, London (as part of the Jazz festival) and Dublin, which was the one I was lucky enough to attend. The results were nothing short of captivating.

Featuring a six-piece band, with minimalist (but hugely effective) lighting, Dark Blue opened with the emotive double bill of ‘Jesus’ from the Velvet Underground’s eponymous third album (from which several other selections were taken, including ‘Femme Fatale’, and the remarkable ‘Pale Blue Eyes’) and ‘Coney Island Baby’. It’s clear that this was not going to be a run-through of the greatest hits, which made things all the more exciting. The arrangements were as creative and experimental as Reed would have done himself, offering new signatures, emphatic points and deconstructions.

Anohni glided ephemerally through several songs, before addressing the crowd, which led to some gorgeous, hilarious and beautiful anecdotes. Anohni’s bashful presence is at odds with the power she displays as a performer. A silky, somewhat uncanny speaking voice evokes tones of her songs, containing a fascinating lyrical lilt, which leaves you hanging on every word. She jokes that Reed never gave the audience what they wanted, and it seems she is taking the same experiemental approach with her track selection and delivery (without realising that this is exactly what some of us want - a range of deep cuts and emotive favourites).

While she explores the depths of Reed’s world, which often holds the same literary richness as writers such as William Burroughs or Hubert Selby Jr. (Reed comments on the Animal Serenade version of ‘Street Hassle’ that it was his attempt to write in their style), Anohni’s perspective as a trans trailblazer and self-confessed outsider adds an important layer of poignancy to the lyrics.

The National Concert Hall was the perfect setting for this show, as the pristine acoustics allowed for every note to resonate with impact, including those in which Anohni would gather up her ballgown and move like a ghost across the stage, singing to the rafters without a mic.

A rendition of ‘The Bed’ from Reed’s deeply affecting album ‘Berlin’ was delivered with such cold intensity, and an exploration of ‘Perfect Day’ (a rare ‘popular’ track from the setlist) was delivered with fire and vigor, hinting at Anohni’s contempt for corruption, greed and earthly damage.

Only one song of the evening was not written by Reed, and that was ‘Sliver of Ice’, a song of Anohni’s written in tribute to Reed, based on one of the final conversations they had, in which Reed recalled how transformative and enriching it was simply to have a sliver of ice placed upon his tongue during a moment of incapacitated weakness, as his body began to shut down.

Seeing this performed with such love and respect was a truly remarkable way to draw this incredibly special show to a close. It was even more powerful to see Laurie Anderson watching from the balcony, as she was in attendance along with other noteable names such as Tim Burton and Steve Buscemi.

Anderson and Burton were sitting in the row in front of me, but my focus was on the stage, and the remarkable voice which still haunts me after twenty years. I have a feeling it’s one which will continue to do so for another twenty to come.