Ora Cogan @ The Lexington, London (Live Review)
- Published in Live
Ora Cogan
@ The Lexington
Words & Pics by Captain Stavros
It's Glasto weekend, and while rowdy ‘gotta be scene’ crowdsurfs small boat installations and lose their (perhaps by this part of the festival their actual) shit to the likes of risk takers Coldplay and Avril Lavigne, words cannot describe how fortunate we're feeling to be far, far away nestled in the lofty lofts of the Lexington.
Warming up the crowd, on an already boiling day, Lando Manning with Ora Cogan on deck. We awkwardly made eye contact with the former at the bar as we regaled the bartender about our missing belt. Where did it go? Who’ve they wrapped themselves around this time? Let us paint you a picture, or better yet, we’ll just leave it to the pros like Lando’s drummer do that on the brushes throughout the set. Let’s hope they stick to painting the skins instead of houses, if you know what we mean? When the lower spectrum thrums of the bass and guitar during Manning’s too-short set, rattled the snare so loudly, we knew the only reason we could hear them was because the audience was completely captivated; great support.
Speaking of support, yours truly, is proud to be supporting a group of most excellent Canadian natives in their jaunt across the pond. Had we known beforehand, we would’ve requested a bag of Miss Vickies Spicy Dill Pickle; if you know, you know. As a completely corrupt enterprise, we’re totally partial to bribery (TAKE NOTE!) but also totally unnecessary in this case [Editor’s note: This is not official Muso’s Guide policy]. Ora Cogan has been accumulating laurels, experiences, stories and skills alike since their first pressed music back in 2008. Cogan and her guitar, slung loosely mid-hip, stood before us battle scarred and well-worn deep beyond the lacquer; each lay exposed. The musician in front of their audience on display, as was their instrument, unvarnished, worn where each leaned on the other heaviest. It was a beautiful symbiosis, producing equally gorgeous melodies.
What really stood out for us was how synced up her troupe was. At no time during the set were eyes not flicking, like snake tongues, back and forth between members, with Cogan as their altar. At one point, Ora realises they’ve forgotten their capo backstage. After a frantic fruitless scavenger hunt onstage, Cogan takes off backstage abruptly without warning and the band, literally, doesn’t miss a beat, like when Jake and Elwood snuck off stage at the ballroom to pay the taxes for the orphanage (deep cut), real natural like. It gave us a chance to take in their bandmate’s talents, and for some, their appearances. Like a cross between William Friedkin’s Cruising cowboy meets Angus Young, the bassist made our tummy feel funny, sort of like an appendix that’s about to burst. The western motif was sewn and hung deep. The whole setup really gave us Holy Motor vibes (if you’re reading this HM, we miss you!!). The music overlapped genres, across the 15-track setlist, with smokey gothic tones and hazy folk twang. The cherry on the sundae was a cover of Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’ that completely came out of leftfield.
We’re bummed to say we caught her last gig of their tour but fear not, there’s no doubt of a return, and now you know you’ve got a huge back catalogue to rummage through and sing along with next time. Ora Cogan has paid their dues and this time they’ll be coming to collect, mark our words. Although touring is done, Formless, out on Prism Tongue Records, is Ora’s latest and is available now across a whole heap of platforms and tangibles. If you’re still reading this and taking suggestions, Cogan, did mention during their set that Italo Calivino is a must read and an inspiration during their writing process.