Gig review: Emma-Jean Thackray at Belgrave Music Hall, Leeds

The tone of the voice on the brief snippet suggests a healthy degree of sarcasm may be intended.

The term ‘fusion’ in its initial 1970s incarnation referred to a blend between jazz chops and rock dynamics, encompassing a wide spectrum of sounds from histrionic noodling to cosmos-straddling jazz-funk. Whatever their thoughts on the term, multi-instrumentalist Thackray (on vocals and trumpet tonight) and her superhumanly agile three-piece band comprising of keyboards, bass and drums (all of whom get plenty of room to stretch out) provide a wide-ranging, contemporised interpretation of ‘jazz fusion’ tonight: while of the roots of the frequently exhilarating outcomes are undoubtedly in the improvisatory ethos of jazz, Thackray exhibits a healthy interest in any kind of rhythm music.

There is not exactly a shortage of acts welding jazz templates to the language of electronic and club music but Thackray has a formidable secret weapon: her songwriting.

Last year’s excellent breakthrough album Yellow was largely the product of Thackray overdubbing herself on a variety of instruments and painstakingly layering the record’s signature massed vocals on her own.

Live, Thackray and co. keep the irresistible hooks intact (with Thackray busily looping and manipulating her voice to mirror the album’s webs of voices), but everything in between is allowed to expand and sprout without ever resorting to the self-indulgent spectacle of musicians showing off to each other.

At a stereotypical jazz show, the only perspiration emerges from the furrowed brows involved in trying to keep up with busily switching time signatures. Whenever Thackray commands us to “get sweaty”, it is unfailingly followed by music designed for physical exertion: it doesn’t get any more ‘fused’ than the seamless transition from the original studio arrangement of the chant-fuelled uplift of “Venus” to the track’s electronic remix that is currently gaining regular radio play.

Of other highlights in a set that never flags in the slightest, the simmering slow-burn of Golden Green is allowed to glide on, suggesting the band is unwilling to let a groove of this magnitude slip away, whilst the haunting Spectre (Yellow’s most ‘pop’ moment) ends up virtually levitating tonight.