Alison Moyet at The Olympia Theatre on October 2nd 2013-05-banner

Alison Moyet at the Olympia on October 2 2013

Alison Moyet has certainly had her day, but what a day it was. It was such a day, that you could live it and be pretty satisfied if life were to just end then and there.

Moyet would be forgiven for passing off her former glories as karaoke worth paying for in present day Olympia. But no, you’re not getting off that easily.

The only thing we were gearing up to expect was the unexpected. Moyet has, shall we say–upset–some fans for refusing to be an 80s nostalgia act. The kind that shamelessly belt out the hits, only asking for a bit of light-hearted bopping and singing along in return. But not Moyet. She strives to continue to be an artist, to develop, to grow, to give people who go to her gigs a new experience, whether that’s what they’re buying their ticket for or not. But they’re certainly buying them, with the Olympia booked solid for the night.

So, does it work? It can be a risqué move, especially trading on a fan base that possibly are long past caring about the modern stuff.

The self-confessed ‘queen of doom’s’ set is mostly composed of material from her latest album, ‘The Minutes’, and she assures everyone that this will be “no love letters”. The synth pop electro is a bit strange to get accustomed to, but never once feels like yer-Ma-trying-to-be-hip. The likes of the dreamy Filigree and Right As Rain go down a treat, welcomed like old favourites, prompting a guy to dance down the aisle with enthusiasm you couldn’t find at a cheese ball ‘Ladies Night’ designed to give one-hit-wonders a job.

A uniformed version of Only You is welcomed, Moyet standing in solid black shirt and trousers, two keyboardists on either side. It’s as far away from 80s glam as you could attempt, but the alien-like blue and purple lighting electrify a version that’s a lot slower, darker, and more sinister. The voice is still there. Smooth yet gravely, husky but caramel.

It’s with the classics where things get interesting, though. The synthpop of Yazoo’s Don’t Go is all off, but again, it’s designed to be. Those looking for familiarity may turn on the record player. It’s fresh, minimalist, yet retro–all accompanied by Moyet’s drunk mum dancing, making her all the more endearing. She’s completely into the set, enjoying herself, unlikely worried if you are or not. That’s the thing about Moyet, she really doesn’t give a shit; it’s the kind of integrity you can’t help but respect.

Is it a case of shut up and play the hits? Not at all. They’re there, but disguised. Is hard not to move to Love Resurrection, while an intriguing encore of Whispering Your Name, a rearranged All Cried Out and a slow version of Is This Love were met with nothing short of adoration for the crowd.

It’s not for everyone, but Moyet isn’t everyone. A talent not wasted, seek your karaoke elsewhere.

Alison Moyet Photo Gallery

Photos: Shaun Neary

Richard Walters Photo Gallery