“Shall we begin with our voices?” Alabaster DePlume asks to his three bandmates on stage: a drummer, bassist and fiddler. We are at the Gosforth Civic Theatre, having just heard the ambient, ethereal sounds of Lucy Gooch a few minutes prior. DePlume and his band are now on stage, and he already looks overjoyed just to be present.
DePlume’s band begin their set with beautiful vocal melodies, before crescendo-ing up into a showcase of fantastical whirling and circular noises. If you’re familiar with DePlume’s music, you’ll know these are commonplace in his compositions. In a live setting, they’re hypnotic: delivered excellently, and with a layer of illustrious harmonies underneath, DePlume’s sound is truly captivating.
This evening’s performance is a showcase of DePlume’s brilliant new album, A Blade Because A Blade is Whole. DePlume is an artist who pours every ounce of his soul into his work, and one who has very much found his niche in a world full of individuals wanting to express theirs. A Blade Because A Blade is Whole is full of compelling poetry, powerful melodies, and DePlume’s tremblingly magnificent horn playing.
Thank You My Pain encapsulates exactly this. It’s poetic and delivered wonderfully. DePlume’s words are even more powerful in person, and his passion is clear to both hear and see. Thank You My Pain is a poem about pain and healing, with a focus and relevance on modern everyday life – ‘Am away in ideas or DMs, notifications’.
I’ve spent a lot of time listening to Alabaster DePlume’s unique style of playing over the last few months, through both his solo material, and contributions to large portions of Richard Russell’s latest Everything is Recorded project: Temporary. To finally here DePlume’s saxophone playing live is special; his raspy, rippling tones are both delightful and haunting at the same time, depending on the context they are being heard. He holds his saxophone at a slight jaunty angle to the rest of his body – which in a way mirrors his persona and adds another unique element to his aura.
After each song, he jumps gleefully up and down. “YES”, he proclaims. “I f$*king love this!” He’s a beautifully eccentric character, and a wonderful speaker. Brutally honest in his words, both in song and conversation, everything DePlume says is poetic, and is often grounded in a dry, disarming sort of humour. Every word that leaves his lips feels well-thought out, purposefully crafted to be the most impactful version of the messages he wishes to convey. Yet he’s still totally and completely honest, as if he’s not entirely sure where his words are taking him at the same time. He is an activist, and highlights issues important to him, such as fighting fascism and ongoing conflicts in Palestine and around the world, which we all ought to be more vocal about – and “tell them Alabaster DePlume sent you, whoever he thinks is.”
Oh My Actual Days is the highlight from DePlume’s latest album for me, so I am pleased to hear it this evening. It has a very moving melody, and, of course, absolutely everything is squeezed out of it by DePlume and his band.
DePlume wraps up his set with That Was My Garden, also from his newly released A Blade Because A Blade is a Whole. He convolutedly but hilariously explains its story – almost as if he doesn’t want this evening to end – before telling it through his instrumentation and poetic vocals. It’s songs such as this which make Alabaster DePlume all the more relatable and impossible not to adore. He is a man almost unnervingly upfront and honest, who tells his stories fantastically and truly stands up for what he believes in. All this is achieved without making you feel guilty for what you haven’t done, but proud for what you have. The world needs more people like Alabaster DePlume.
Waxing Lyrical 