Orton shares heartbreak with powerful voice

By THACHER SCHMID
Special to the Journal Sentinel

Posted: July 24, 2006

It's tough not to like a musician as talented, heartbroken and unafraid to swim in Lake Michigan as Beth Orton.

Sunday night, Orton offered a half-capacity crowd at the Pabst Theater a range of tunes from her 2006 release "Comfort of Strangers" - bleak stuff organized around Orton's gorgeous, breaking voice.

She is a veteran of the legendary '90s Bristol scene pioneered by Massive Attack, later the Sneaker Pimps, Tricky and Portishead. Orton's fame came via electronics-heavy, heavily produced music - collaborations with the Chemical Brothers, William Orbit and Beck. Her solo material, starting with 1996's "Trailer Park," combined electronic beats and textures with acoustic guitar and a decidedly folksy vibe.

Sunday night's show offered no trip-hop whatsoever, unless you include lead guitarist Edward Kelly's use of flutterpicking, volume pedal and loops on "Pieces of Sky," or drummer Matt Johnson's clipped, muted beats.

Bassist Leroy Polk and keyboardist player Sean Read rounded out a folk-rock quartet that felt hardwired to Orton and an aesthetic sparse to the point of oxygen starvation. There was no dancing; a few heads were seen to nod emphatically.

Read's melodica and Kelly's guitar solos were highlights.

Following "Trailer Park" and "Central Reservation," both successes, 2002's "Daybreaker" met lukewarm reaction, and Orton took time off, writing and traveling to Africa. Now four months pregnant - sporting a charcoal maternity dress and holding her back - Orton seemed upbeat and rejuvenated Sunday, bantering with a crowd full of obscure requests and proclaiming that swimming Lake Michigan was "great!"

Orton played the opener on piano but anchored most songs with deft fingerstyle guitar riffs and bluesy vocals that recalled Sinead O'Connor's throaty power and the breathy sweetness of Joni Mitchell, with a smaller range. At times, the songs functioned more like a patchwork quilt than the work of a cohesive ensemble.

Lyrically, Orton's material is pure heartbreak. That rare pop artist whose lyrics can stand alone, Orton's words bespeak suffering born of love. "If I never saw the sunshine, baby / Then I wouldn't mind the rain" and "You beat my heart black and blue" are typical; even "Conceived," Orton's recent single, comes from "a loveless embrace." Somehow, despite the downbeat energy, Orton manages to conjure hope, but it's "born of fear."

Mystery opener Clay Hill, also from the U.K. and excited to have dipped in the lake, was a trio of graying rockers with great presence. Lyrics such as "can't get the dirt out from under my nails" balanced nice acoustic guitar rhythms and precise double bass.