Joanne Robertson grew up amidst the carnal circus atmosphere of Blackpool, England. After studying piano in her youth, she chose instead to borrow her father’s guitar and wander through the sand dunes, plucking noisily at the strings and singing extemporaneous songs to scare-off the local hippies. She hung out in the region’s punk and metal bars, but fled to Paris when drugs started collecting her friends in a little bucket.
After that came the Glasgow School of Art and a noisy rock band called I Love Lucy, whose lyrics were all improvised. With the help of her schoolmates from Franz Ferdinand, they played in Glasgow, London and New York, before breaking up after their sixth gig. Starting to think that even I Love Lucy was too structured, Joanne traveled to the coasts of America, where she communed with noise bands, did some shows and contemplated her future.
She opted to take her MFA at UCL Slade School of Fine Art, where she formed the Blood ‘n Feathers collective with Lucy Stein. Their visual art was widely feted and was included in the prestigious Becks Futures 2006 show, which showcases notable young British artists. Simultaneously, Joanne returned to solo performance, opening shows for Martin Creed around London. Her debut album. The Lighter, produced by David Cunningham, is a direct outgrowth of this solo work.
The Lighter has a stark, weird musical beauty that is analogous to Joanne’s visual work. Flatness hide depth. Simplicity masks complexity. The sweet conceals the sour. Opposites attract and overwhelm each other. It’s one of nature’s laws. Or maybe two.
Joanne also works with the trio, MEMEME, alternately playing electric guitar and drums, making a racket that can be heard all the way up at the top of Brick Lane, when blasted from the basement of Nog Gallery. But this isn’t about that.
The Lighter is a collection of intimate interior portraits, reminiscent in spots of Sybille Baier, Barbara Manning, even Hope Sandoval, but all performed with an addictive off-kilter grace that suspends time in a very special way. Cunningham’s production has a luminous simplicity which allows Joanne’s voice and guitar to breath as one, emitting whiffs that seem new and old at the same time.
A devotee of serious art theory, Joanne would (I’m certain) like to place all of this in a theoretical context, but it’s such a goddamn wonderful listen, I suggest we all just pull up some chairs and some fires and some drinks, and lift a toast (or a series of ‘em) to The Lighter’s magnetic magic.
A dark room, and empty bed and you. That’s all it takes.
--Byron Coley
