Bathed in monochrome lights, Sóley in quartet form beguiles in the hushed, intimate setting of the Bristol Beacon. New album Mother Melancholia weaves a tale of the end times, the playing out of the impacts of an ecocidal patriarchy, and of those that rise against it. It is a weighty and anxiety-inducing topic, not to mention a musical departure for Sóley, but one that sounds phenomenal and darkly cinematic.
Live, the songs translate beautifully to the quartet format, and Sóley acknowledges their weightiness (‘can I torture you with another song?’, she asks; but if it is torture, it certainly doesn’t feel like it). She is a playful performer, keen to ask us between songs about Bristol’s reputation as a cool city, and complimenting us on how “well-raised” we are, in response to our cheers for an encore – for which we are treated to Krómantík from the album of the same name.
