Gig review: Anna B Savage, Brudenell Social Club, Leeds

Their confessional, close to the bone nature is evident when the London-born, Dublin-based musician performs. She sings with an impassioned shaking of the head and appears close to tears several times throughout the set. Repeatedly apologising for tuning her guitar and admitting that it’s nerve-wracking to be here, the anxiety that dominates her lyrics leaks out of her every movement.

Yet to reduce her work to someone with imposter syndrome or who uses her art as therapy is to ignore the intensity of her music. It also does a disservice to her firm grasp of dynamics and the way in which she astutely builds layers of sound with the help of her three-piece band, who are dressed in matching red.

The live musicians are augmented by programmed beats, electronics and sections of half-spoken prose that weave between Savage’s deep vocals. It’s a diversity of instrumentation that allows the set to swing being experimental indie-rock (‘Crown Shyness’), the crunching guitars of Low (‘Two’), and the jazz-fuelled complexity of Aldous Harding (‘Say My Name’).

The best of her live material combines all these elements, with opening track ‘The Ghost’ using ghostly crackles and monologue to effectively set the scene. It’s also here that some of the intensity is punctured. “This is the best bit, isn’t it?” she sings on the largely acoustic ‘Touch Me’. “Yes!” shouts an enthusiastic audience member. Savage politely disagrees.

If the live environment favours dynamics and communal relief, then quieter moments such as ‘I Can Hear the Birds Now’ lose a little in translation. On the studio versions her acoustic guitar and rich delivery are underpinned by woodwind or electronics that are so gentle you only miss them in their absence. Fortunately, this isn’t a major issue in the context of a constantly shifting sound that arcs through an emotional journey.

The set ends with ‘The Orange’, which is introduced as the favourite song she’s ever written. The reason for this is easy to comprehend, as it sees her finally reaching a state of self-acceptance. “If this is all there is / I think I’m gonna be fine,” she muses over a quiet guitar. On the evidence of this performance, the audience can only agree.