Malcolm Jack 

Horace Andy, Dub Asante & Matic Horns review – spry, spiritual and chilled-out

He might not like playing live, but the Massive Attack mainstay's career survey held the audience in the palm of his hand, writes Malcolm Jack
  
  

Horace Andy
High, silken tones … Horace Andy. Photograph: Barney Britton/Redferns Photograph: Barney Britton / Redferns/Redferns

As Massive Attack's go-to singer – he's the only guest artist to appear on all five of their albums to date – Horace Andy's high, silken tones have become a perhaps unsuspectingly familiar sound to many listeners. The Bristol trip-hop ensemble's menacingly brooding Angel, to which Andy contributed his most identifiable vocal, has appeared everywhere from sportswear adverts to an episode of The West Wing. Tonight sees the Jamaica-born, London-based 63-year-old reggae veteran illuminate his own back catalogue.

Andy rarely appears live these days – this date closes his first UK tour in several years – and he acknowledges as much: "I've never liked playing, so give thanks that I'm here." It's difficult to square the idea of a reluctant performer with the spry, spiritual and chilled-out figure, who holds a swayingly blissed-out audience in his palm for two hours. Backed crisply by the four players of Dub Asante, marshalled by trombonist and backing vocalist Henry Tenyue, AKA Matic Horns, Andy ranges widely through his career, from the Sly & Robbie-style groove of Must Surrender to his best-known number, Skylarking, and the chiming dancehall of Cus Cus.

The halcyon vibe threatens to break as a heavily inebriated woman invades the stage for a hug. Security loom, but Andy skilfully lets the situation play, by gently crooning a couple of verses of his lazily beatific take on Ain't No Sunshine into his guest's glazed eyes. The Massive Attack connection is celebrated with a reggae-fied reworking of Hymn of the Big Wheel from 1991's Blue Lines. Anti-establishment hymn Leave Rasta sees one fan smilingly strong-armed out the door by a bouncer for defiantly sparking a particularly pungent joint. Andy lifts the mood towards ska delirium before finally skanking off homewards, both thumbs raised righteously aloft.

 

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