Rilo Kiley

My lack of height in the Netherlands is my Achilles heel. The venue is packed and I am late, again, resided to filling a fleck of space at the back of the Paradiso because pushing to the front is impossible. At least the bar is at the back.

Rilo Kiley are rolling through ‘It’s A Hit’ on stage. I can hear it, but I am newly blind. They are invisible. Instead, a sea of shoulders, bobbing heads and cigarettes crowd my view. Might as well go back to the bar then for another pint, find a seat at the bar, close my eyes and focus on the music I can’t see wafting from the stage. This is a bit disappointing. Forgive me, but Jenny Lewis is fit.

After ‘It’s A Hit’, Lewis and co-conspirator Blake Sennett lead the band through much of their new album, Under The Blacklight. ‘Breakin’ Up’, the best of the new songs on offer, follows; perched at the bar, a good 30 metres from the stage and completely oblivious to Lewis’ stage presence – I am guessing it is ace – the song is terrific, mixing Harlem soul with Motown funk before placing the smear on two chunky slices of thick, Los Angeles folk cynicism, the sort that Rilo Kiley are famous for. Plus, according to a tall guy standing next to me, members of The Art of Manila, the opening act made up of Orenda Fink and others, are singing back-up and shaking a bevy of percussive tools alongside. That explains the choral harmonies, and the power of this song. So here I am now, dancing even whilst smacked alongside purses and tall people, but smiling like a kindergartner off Ritalin. Truly a great song, as good as anything the band has ever attempted.

Onto ‘Portions For Foxes’, one of the best off More Adventurous and a proven fan favourite. It is a corker. The crowd - sweaty, humid and obviously uncomfortable - sways through the melody like trees in the wind, lapping up each idiosyncratic pop moment in this four-and-a-half minute gem.

We all know new songs are coming, and a lot of them. Must lap up this old one as if is the last song, as again, only three, maybe four songs on Under The Blacklight are worth focusing on. Thankfully, Lewis and company are sticking to said good songs, including the one about porn stars, ‘Moneymaker’, and a devastating tug and pull with ‘Silver Lining’, the morose album opener about falling out of love. Both are more acoustic, laid back and restrained when compared to the recorded renditions, as Lewis is holding back more than pushing forward in her vocals. Her voice is still wet and moisturising, but fragile too. Singing these songs is hurting her. I still cannot see her to verify this, but each note is painful as it clears the air. These songs are intense. Plus, ‘Ripchord’, Sennett’s Elected-like mandolin interjection adds to Lewis intensity. I remain standing, half-dancing. Have been so since the second tune now.

A few lacklustre moments, ones to focus on the humidity of the venue and sweat teeming down my back, peer in, but only a few. ‘Smoke Detector’, complete with some sort of lazy dance she explains – again I am too short to see anything – is half-hearted, the opposite of the rest. It lacks this painful delivery keeping me upright. Same goes for ‘Dejalo’, sung partly in Spanish for some reason. Still, while I cannot see a thing, am sweating to death and significantly poorer because of beer that ain’t quenching any thirst; but I feel oblivious to said variables when Lewis sings. She is transporting everyone from a humid box to a place where every break-up is melodramatic, entertaining and worth writing home about, sex is a circus and porn is a way in, in addition to a way out. My shirt sticks to my body. It is really, really uncomfortable, but I am not bothered. Great shows do that.