Imogen Heap – Shepherd’s Bush Empire, London, 19/02/10

22 February 2010, 08:45 | Written by Adam Elmahdi

(Live)

No matter what you think about Imogen Heap, you can’t deny she lavishes a lot of care on her live shows. From the inventive and striking projections, to the wooden tree draped with lights and metallic geegaws of mysterious provenance, the stage designs much more adventurous than one’s accustomed to for a mid-sized venue like the Empire. The range of instruments she employs is impressive, not least the transparent grand piano that dominates the stage.

Even her support bands were well thought through, although Back Ted n’ Ted’s enthusiasm and technical skill wasn’t well-served by his bland songwriting. Tim Exile’s largely improvised set quite possibly surpassed the main attraction. Manipulating sounds made by crowd members into entirely new forms, looping and layering snippets of audience conversation, getting a random guy up on stage to add guitar chords and melodies to a spontaneous composition, he’s quite unlike anything this reviewer’s ever seen.

It’s just a shame more innovation wasn’t present in Imogen’s own material. She’s clearly an immensely talented lady, even with a voice weakened by a recent throat infection. Her bohemian, ditzy charm is infectious, and although she suffers from acute Waynecoyneitus (an affliction that inhibits the ability to shut up), she’s entertaining enough to get away with it.

Perhaps inspired by Tim Exile’s antics, she whips up an brooding, atmospheric improvised piece based on a key, tempo and time signature suggested by the audience, C# minor, 140bpm, ¾ time in this case, with the intention of selling it to raise money for Great Ormond Street Hospital. She plans to do this every night of the tour. An unusual, but admirable idea that’s indicative of someone with much more imagination that your standard singer-songwriter.

But, the fact remains that her recent output is, for the most part, bland, middle-of-the-road fare; pleasant enough but easily forgettable. Too often she coasts rather than soars; her multi-instrumental talents wasted on inoffensive fluff. There are some great moments however: getting the audience to provid the multi-layered harmonies of ‘Just For Now’, the vocodered a cappella of ‘Hide and Seek’, but the rest fails to leave much of an impression. She’s a fantastic show-woman, and one that intermittently has the musical chops to match, but one’s left with the distinct suspicion she’s capable of so much more.