Amanda Palmer, The Academy, Dublin

Amanda Palmer is a walking mass of contradictions. For example, tonight she is in Dublin as part of a book promotion tour but she has failed to bring any copies of the book with her. She left them in Britain when she departed for a two day Irish leg that began at the Dalkey Book Festival. She has to borrow a copy from a fan, who has brought it along tonight to be signed, to do a reading.

The book in question, The Art Of Asking, was written as an expansion of her T.E.D. talk about her career and about crowd-funding. More than 10 million people have viewed the 14 minute talk on YouTube and the book climbed high in the New York Times bestseller list when it was published last year.

Palmer appears on stage at eight sharp with a punnet of mandarins. She tosses them one by one into the fully seated Academy crowd. Cheers follow each successful catch. One, tossed to an outstretched hand from the balcony, falls short and lands in the safety netting below.

The stage is set sparsely with a keyboard, stool, two mic stands and a ukulele. A circle of flowers is arranged around the performance area. Before saying a word to the audience she approaches the lip of the stage and sings ‘The Wind That Shakes The Barley’ a capella. I don't know if you could hear a pin drop but you can hear my pencil scratching, so quiet is the room. She belts out all 4 verses to a big ovation before taking a seat at the keyboard.

Palmer is six months pregnant and feeling sad and tired, she announces, before launching into ‘Astronaut: A Short History Of Nearly Nothing’ from her first solo album. During ‘Ampersand’ she playfully highlights the contradiction between the lyrics of a song for the wilfully single and her swollen belly.  

As she switches instruments and picks up the ukulele her husband, the writer Neil Gaiman, dutifully appears with a plectrum for her to use. Gaiman later returns to the stage, for a longer period this time, to read passages from his wife’s book. His reading includes an emotive extract from 'The Velveteen Rabbit' which has many attendees dabbing their eyes, whilst Amanda gazes on adoringly.

‘Map Of Tasmania’ is a raucous call and response number examining the socio-political significance of lady gardens, body image, and accepted norms of beauty. On record it is a funky dance tune with a latin beat but here tonight, on a ukulele with 400 people yelling “Fuck it!” in unison, it comes off as an old fashioned punk protest song.

Palmer is joined onstage by Whitney Moses for a question and answer session based on submissions from the audience. This is her fourth show in the Academy and she reminisces about the time her band were stranded by the Icelandic ash cloud, leaving her to improvise a show with local musicians and attempt a duet over Skype with collaborator Jason Webley.

She mentions her childhood love of U2 and discusses the time she met Bono. When she asks if it is acceptable to slag off U2 in Dublin, the answer is resoundingly affirmative. She demurs though and speaks with respect about him and their disagreements on the digital distribution of music, noting that the discussion pre-dated their deal with iTunes.

Moses and Palmer then duet on Garfunkel And Oates’ ‘Pregnant Women Are Smug’, a sardonic and topical comedy of manners, and together perform a stunning take on The Dresden Dolls’ ‘Delilah’. The contrast between the levity of the former and the stark heart-wrenching beauty of the latter typifies Palmer’s appeal, and the mutual regard she shares with her fans. It’s an eclectic evening both in terms of the show content and the tone.

The set ends with a rousing rendition of ‘Coin Operated Boy’ and an encore featuring the aptly titled ‘Ukulele Anthem’. You never know what to expect from an Amanda Palmer show. Each gig feels like a unique presentation. It will probably be some time before we see her perform again on these islands. A last hurrah in Belfast marks the beginning of her maternity leave, if such a thing existed in the music world, but it has been one hell of a send- off. Goodnight Dublin, it’s been emotional.