TENNISCOATS AND FRIENDS
Cafe Kino, Bristol | October 1st
The aroma of lentils fills the air as we bundle downstairs at Cafe Kino, Stokes Croft’s stellar vegan hangout, to find Tokyo’s experimental acoustic duo Tenniscoats performing to a sentimental gathering hanging on every note and syllable. Saya and Takashi Ueno’s songs are magical, delicate lullabies to melt the heart. There’s an atmosphere of genuineness, generosity and understanding in this room, and in amongst the day-to-day cynicism, places and times like this exist for a reason.
Earlier we’d witnessed an outstanding performance from Will Newsome, who treated the room to songs written for the Kora, a West African stringed instrument that sounds very oriental in its tonality. Accompanied at times by his mantra-like vocals, those present seemed transfixed and truly moved. Bristol collective I Know I Have No Collar took to the stage next, armed with melodicas and … babies. In an unexpected twist, the band performed scores by underground filmmaker Hal Hartley with the additional of the occasional raspberry from their young companions.
Cafe Kino’s cellar hushed to virtual silence as Tenniscoats began their set. The duo have mastered their method of keeping each set fresh through using the environment to influence the acoustic representation. Sometimes singing into a microphone, but more often than not left bare and unamplified, the subtleties and nuances of Saya’s performance made for so many special moments, not least when she pulls up friends from the audience to help out on vocals. An awkward male couldn’t hide the fact that he was winging it, but it didn’t detract at all; in fact his time on stage was, along with the babies, amongst the most enjoyable of the night. Local musician Rachael Dadd also took to the stage for a sumptuous duet in which their voices became hopelessly intwined, whilst the guitar’s nylon stringed melodies played an essential counterpoint.
Much of the performance was delivered in Tenniscoats’ native language, and all involved showed such reverence for what this experimental duo try and achieve. This reached a zenith when DJ for the evening Ichi pulled out his steel drums and began playing along to a fragile version of Hallelujah, managing to make even that most tired refrain sound invigorating and new.
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Words: Philip James Allen
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