Cindytalk: The 12 Bar, 30 June 2008

There can’t be many groups who I started listening to almost twenty-five years ago who are still going, let alone ones whose output still means much to me. In fact, of the handful of artists whose work I liked then and who are still active, none has released anything that has struck much of a chord with me for quite some time. The people who I tend to think of as my long-term favourites came slightly later, in the mid-to-late 1980s.
Only one band I was listening to at the age of sixteen still has the power to intrigue and excite me and that band is Cindytalk. The wayward, enigmatic Cindytalk, whose last “proper” album was released in 1994 (though a couple of subsequently planned releases have surfaced via the internet). The band who I’d only ever seen perform live once, in late 1995 at the Dublin Castle in Camden. The band who I’d wondered if I’d ever see on stage again.
It’s funny how things go. They did a gig towards the end of last year in London, but I couldn’t make it. A couple of months ago, I found myself enthusing about them to a friend of a friend. I ended up re-immersing myself in their albums, making a compilation CD of what I considered to be their most intriguing material. This influenced one of my written pieces at the time. Then, a few days later, a London gig was announced.
Chance, or fate? Who knows. Where Cindytalk are concerned, anything is possible. A band cursed and blessed: cursed with a considerable degree of bad luck surrounding the ownership and re-releasing of their back catalogue; blessed with an extraordinarily singular vision, an individuality and a purity that has seen them charting solitary territory throughout their existence. A band without peers, with all the joy and terror that this implies.
The problem I always have with Cindytalk when trying to convey their appeal to others is trying to encapsulate them in a way that does them justice. I used to describe their debut album Camouflage Heart as “the soundtrack to my dreams”. That’s probably a more honest reaction than rattling off a list of comparable band names, but it’s also the only approach I’ve ever been able to take. They don’t sound like anyone else.
So, here’s my conundrum: how do I review this gig? For a start, it comes with a weight of expectation, the pent-up appetite of over a decade. All critical faculties desert me as I approach its convulsive beauty. The most realistic tack would be to say nothing, to urge you to click on the YouTube excerpt above and experience it for yourself. And yet, I’d feel rather selfish doing that. I need to try, at least, for the people who couldn’t be there.
The set lasted around forty-five minutes. It was a mixture of ambient laptop backing and four-piece band performance. Straightforward, in many ways: guitar, bass, drums, vocals. Oh yes, those vocals. Gordon Sharp still has one of the strongest, most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. A voice that connects with something elemental yet floats amongst the stars, matched by a musical backdrop of considerable subtlety and power.
In fact, the music was something of a surprise. If there’s any long-term trend to Cindytalk’s output, it seems to be one of de-structuring and dissolution. However, the band performance was remarkably melodic and song-oriented, amongst the expansive, ambient electronica of the backing material. Also, it was great to hear the excepts from Ghost Dance (a favourite film of mine) featuring as part of the set.
Watching Gordon on stage, I’m thrown back to that first startling moment when I heard his voice on This Mortal Coil’s unexpectedly compelling 16 Days Gathering Dust cover version. I’m sixteen again, alive to the overwhelming possibility of the world: the potential, the beauty, the desire, the rawness. And yet, here we are: I’m forty and I feel no different. The ongoing journey has only made these things more precious.
Cindytalk do this to me. No amount of hyperbole is going to frame it, express it or contain it. They are, utterly, without doubt, one of the defining bands of my lifetime. I wish they were more well-known, but at the same time I know that the very things that epitomise them work against that. If they start playing gigs more regularly I might stand a chance of becoming more objective and critical. Until then, I’m content to be overawed.
Set list:
The titles in capitals are those played by the group, the rest are the tracks played as part of the laptop set:
How Soon Now… | Above The Paving Stones, The Stars | SPEECHLESS CAGE | Fly Away Over Here | Hanging In The Air | LOST BETWEEN US | Maglev | WIDENING THE FOCUS | From The Mountain | I Walk Until I Fall | A USEFUL MELANCHOLY | If We Meet We Meet In Silence | PRINCE OF LIES | Shibuku | OUTSIDE OUT | Signalling Through The Flames | A Distant Kite | The Eighth Sea | MY DRIFT IS A GHOST | …Until We Disappear
Further reading:

• MySpace: Cindytalk
• Cindytalk web site
• Of Ghosts And Buildings