Star calibre dulled by a drift to mainstream
KT Tunstall ***
Corn Exchange
REGARDLESS of your opinion on her music, there’s no denying the fairytale qualities of KT Tunstall’s meteoric rise from coffee shop strummer to bona fide star.
Years of exuberant gigging with a succession of no-hope Fife bands and as a solo performer, earned her a shot at the big time - courtesy of a last-minute cancellation by rapper Nas - on Later With Jools Holland.
And how she took it. Her virtuoso performance paved the way for four million sales of her debut album Eye to the Telescope, and chart domination both here and in the notoriously Anglo-unfriendly US listings.
Success, thankfully, doesn’t seem to have been to the detriment of her famously down to earth personality. The shamelessly airbrushed guitar-toting chick depicted on the cover of her latest album, Drastic Fantastic, bears little resemblance to the engagingly humble presence witnessed by a jam-packed Corn Exchange last night. “It’s so nice to be back here in a normal place,” she yelled to the crowd, who were the very embodiment of normality - well scrubbed young couples and 30-something’s making up a sizeable contingent of the audience.
Yet while her demeanour remains as unassuming as it was when she was playing to half-empty rooms in the Kingdom, Tunstall’s elevation to global stardom has not been without detriment to her craft.
While Eye to the Telescope’s success was grounded in the tenets of solid, often inspirational songwriting, the generally tepid critical response to Drastic Fantastic was largely due to a shift towards the mainstream.
That’s where Tunstall was overwhelmingly to be found for a large chunk of last night’s set - much of her new material drifting amiably by as if auditioning for use as background music on a Stateside teen drama like Dawson’s Creek.
Mercifully, the Tunstall who retains the potential to be a vital and creative presence for years to come did rear her head amidst all the mulch.
Drastic Fantastic highlight White Bird triggered the change, its sparse minor-key loveliness redolent of Crosby Stills and Nash. Equally affecting was the countryfied shuffle of Ashes, the angry self-hate of Tunstall’s lyrics standing in stark and unflattering contrast to the empty platitudes and production-line slickness of most of her new material.
The gig-salvation operation continued with a rendition of her signature self-sampling stomp Black Horse and the Cherry Tree, that was every bit as powerful as the performance that made her name on Holland’s show.
In light of what had gone before, it seemed to good too last. Sadly that was the case - a lurch back into mid-tempo drudgery lifted only by brief shards of crowd-pleasing light such as the singalong Suddenly I See.
To say this was a bad gig would be doing Tunstall an injustice. Her voice was as ironclad as ever, her band were slick and the audience - always the most important element - were with her all the way.
Nevertheless, mass popularity while scrimping on the creative chops seems a hollow reward for all that graft. Let’s hope the fairytale continues, with rediscovered edge.
