Pint of Tetley's in hand, I squeeze my way through masses of fourteen year-old girls singing along to Poker Face and In For The Kill to take up a decent viewing spot. Though they take up the majority of space at the front of the venue, the further back you look through the room, the older and trendier the audience, who obviously shun the trauma that I'm putting myself through for the sake of an unobstructed stage view. Conveniently, this serves as a rather fitting metaphor for what Marina's music has become: a meld of cheeky, cheery pop songs that belie oft-intense and harrowing sentiments. Choruses to wail along to, dark lyrics to contemplate with intrigue.
Support comes from a young lady called Spark, taking to the stage in a black catsuit and torn 'ARE YOU DUMB' t-shirt. Hers is a catchy, bass-driven eighties pastiche pop sound: one that, live, seems to overpower the voice that is so prominent on her Myspace recordings. Of course, chiefly due to her billing below her bigger, bolder pop-sister, she seems very similar to Marina- but then, support acts often follow that pattern. 'Shut Out The Moon' and 'Wrap' were highlights, the former of which you can now download from her website. The tween audience members snigger when she announces song 'Blow'.
Appearing first in silhouette form in a film that plays on the back of the stage, Marina steps astride the mic and launches into Girls. With neon-pink lipstick, wind tunnel-blown hair, denim shorts and cheerleader jersey, she looks and sounds every bit the transcendental diva-next-door. The band are tight, and her voice throughout the night is flawless. Sitting to play I Am Not A Robot at the keyboard, she breaks from the constraints of the radio single and gives free rein to the range she first displayed on early songs Daddy Was A Sailor and Simplify, neither of which made the cut for album The Family Jewels and neither of which appear tonight; she performs all album tracks other than Hermit The Frog.
Changing into a big, silken Bambi gown (Yes, she did) for the encore, she covers STARSTRUKK by 3OH!3 and, I gather, Katy Perry. After searching for the song on YouTube, I find the original to be a tawdry club tune with a weak bassline and annoying American whines. Predictably, Marina's voice turns it into something with a poignant vibrancy, and I now wish that hers was the only version I'd ever heard. Ending the night- and the tour- on a euphoric high with chirpy Mowgli's Road, she clearly relishes every moment of it. As the crowd file out, I can't hear a bad word being said.
I leave, entirely satisfied.
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