Suzanne Vega – Royal Festival Hall 02/03/23

I could call Suzanne Vega the godmother of modern folk; I could call her a craftswoman of songs both wise and timeless; a simultaneous master of simplicity and depth.  A legend?  Maybe.  An icon?  Definitely.  I could say that her fiercely poetic and melodic vignettes are woven into the fabric of a generation; inspiring millions to pick up guitars and pick out their own truths, stories and emotion.  I could say I’m a fan.  But you probably already worked that one out. 

The singer-songwriter is at the Royal Festival Hall, playing the sold-out, final date of her UK tour and, having opened with her debut 1985 hit, ‘Marlene on the Wall’, explains that tonight’s set contains plenty of old songs.  With a wry smile, she remarks that audiences can become ‘very anxious’ if you begin a show with your new and more experimental material.  As her output in recent years has been less prolific, there is, in fact more old than new to choose from, and on the heels of ‘Marlene…’ is ‘Small Blue Thing’, still wonderfully unthawed and intriguing, even at the ripe old age of thirty-eight. 

Such is the length of Vega’s career that she finds herself in the very meta position of now having anecdotes about her between-song anecdotes.  I last saw her live on the Songs In Red And Gray tour in 2001 and since then, the story behind ‘Gypsy’ - a wistful tale of a brief teenage romance - has developed into a full-blown, decade-spanning saga, starring Leonard Cohen, mystery bouquets and confessions to girlfriends and mothers alike.  Be sure to book your tickets for the next tour if you’re interested in further updates. 

Vega is accompanied tonight by Gerry Leonard who, armed with various effects, does plenty to fill out the sound, allowing Suzanne occasionally to leave her own guitar on the stand and go walkabout, mic in hand.  Leonard, who is best known for his work alongside David Bowie, has been Vega’s mainstay guitarist for over twenty years and he’s all ideas, all evening: there are loops, beats, octave pedals and a refreshing dash of filth and fuzz.  None of this is ever outside the service of the song, of course, but it suits the more leftfield material particularly well - most notably on the feisty ‘Rock In This Pocket’ and the total clank-fest that is ‘Blood Makes Noise’.   

When there is an opportunity for a pace-change - a rare thing in the folk-troubadour genre - Vega and Leonard seem gleefully to grasp it with both hands.  Their splicing of Elvis Costello’s ‘Lipstick Vogue’ into the middle of a fast-and-furious ‘When Heroes Go Down’ is an unexpected but welcome treat.  Notwithstanding these deliciously noisy moments, it’s very much a crowd-pleasing set, full of early career highlights.  We are steered through the lounge stylings of ‘Caramel’, the singalong surrealisms of ‘In Liverpool’ and the inescapably intense ‘The Queen and The Soldier’ (surely the only murder ballad anyone could ever need) before we get to hear anything resembling a newer piece.  One finally arrives in the form of the gothic and suitably plaintive ‘Last Train from Mariupol’. 

‘Solitude Standing’ (replete with e-bow) and the quintessential ‘Left of Center’ follow, before we ping briefly back to the current millennium with ‘I Never Wear White’ (from 2014).  ‘Some Journey’ is up next, a pleasantly surprising choice from the debut album, before Vega fulfils what is surely her contractual obligation to perform her biggest hit, ‘Luka’, to two and a half thousand very satisfied customers.  Follow that with the equally famous ‘Tom’s Diner’, (kudos to Leonard for recreating DNA’s groove here) and all that’s left to do is bask in the applause of the assembled throng as they creak themselves upright into a standing ovation.  Some of us aren’t as young as we look, you know. 

The pair return to deliver a three-song encore, beginning with Lou Reed’s ‘Walk on the Wild Side’.  The song fits Vega like an old pair of jeans and it is suddenly quite obvious that he’s an influence. Then comes that especially cacophonous - and brilliant - rendition of ‘Blood Makes Noise’ I mentioned earlier.  Before anyone has the chance to shout “Judas!” the show closes with the delightful and altogether more acoustic ‘Rosemary’, which, like ‘Left of Center’, is a vital - and similarly career-defining - non-album track. 

Although entire records go unmarked, the set is a good representation of Vega’s career thus far.  Her more delicate acoustic pieces sit alongside the sonically more adventurous music she made with ex-husband Mitchell Froom, and this makes for a balanced and somewhat unpredictable evening.  Part of Suzanne Vega’s enduring appeal is that her work is so rich with contradictions: she is both mysterious and open; poetic and terse; acerbic and vulnerable.  On top of that, she is also, as you might expect, an engaging and warm performer.  Though she has performed these songs and told these stories many hundreds of times before, Vega’s delivery - even tonight, in this huge auditorium - feels disarmingly intimate and just a little bit magic.

Review by Rich Barnard