(((O))) Live: Emma Ruth Rundle – Bush Hall, London

Standing shoulder-to-shoulder amongst a sold-out crowd in a glamorous ball room, sweltering during the last days of a brief British hot spell, it’s easy to forget that you’re in Shepherd’s Bush. Bush Hall is a stunning venue, and Emma played a phenomenal full-band show here previously in 2017 with Jaye Jayle and Fvnerals in tow. That was one of many Emma Ruth Rundle shows I’ve been lucky to experience and every single one has been exceptional.  

I don’t mean to exaggerate, claim she can do no wrong, or hero-worship. It’s just that there’s something about the way she performs that makes every show memorable and unique. There is the sense of a direct communication with her, a rawness, honesty and authenticity that is especially affective. There have been times when she seemed nervous, or exhausted, or strung out, or exhilarated and full of fun, or cool and mischievous, or jubilant and confident. And all of these feelings became transmitted to the audience through the music, reshaping it for the performance. 

Emma Ruth Rundle. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

So, while disco balls paint light mosaics on our skin, and Lynchian red velvet curtains frame the performer, the low stage places Emma practically literally at the same level as the crowd – which is how she positions herself: equally.   

But first, Berlin-based artist Jon Samuel Ardron performs a solo piano set to set the tone for the evening. He might be the only person in the room wearing a jumper, as warm, romantic, melancholy narratives pour from his fingers. Jon is composed, self-absorbed, utterly immersed, rolling his fingers along the full range of the keyboard. There are many extreme metal t-shirts in the crowd tonight, as there are at all of Emma’s shows, and – as with Emma’s music – that Jon might appeal to metalheads seems a little odd on paper. But there is a darkness and a melancholy at the heart of both artists, a particular timbre that Jon’s playing establishes from the outset. His playing has the feel of improvisation, or at least of weaving together a selection of pieces chosen on the spot. Some of the most memorable moments are when simple-sounding, beautiful melodies repeat over a changing root.  

Jon Samuel Ardron. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

Towards the end of her set, Emma pours praise upon Jon – “his music is beautiful, and he is a beautiful person” – and he certainly seems to have acquired some new fans amongst her crowd. 

As part of a tour “honouring” Emma’s debut album Some Heavy Ocean (2014), the sonic and visual aesthetics of tonight’s show all tie together perfectly. Ambient music segues us from one set to another, moving from liturgical chanting into light synth waves. Emma walks out in silver make-up, hair rippling under the fans like the seascape projected behind her, and a loose kaftan-style robe billowing.  

Emma Ruth Rundle. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

Tonight is the first time I’ve seen Emma play a set on guitar since she toured her most recent album Engine of Hell, which largely showcased her piano playing. While it has been amazing to see her perform this album over the last couple of years, I’m excited to see Emma play guitar again given her wonderfully idiosyncratic style. Tonight’s set features “interpretations” of most tracks from the debut, alongside some old and more recent favourites. If you’ve seen Emma perform previously, you’ll know that – with the exception of her Engine of Hell material – she often lightly reinterprets her songs for the stage, especially in terms of vocal delivery. Tonight’s versions provide a wonderful balance between exciting new versions (this tour is crying out for another live album) and the most treasured and memorable aspects of the original.  

Emma Ruth Rundle. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

Opening with ‘Living With The Black Dog’, Emma plays an especially slow version, with the album’s warmly distorted chords rendered even dirtier through her acoustic. Staring wide-eyed into the audience (“You wanna know where I’m from?”), Emma is “in intense mode”, as someone observes. Using ambient harmonics to segue into a beautiful version of ‘Run Forever’, Emma plays softly at the start but keeps the momentum up, lingering on heavy power chords for the chorus.  

Emma’s acoustic sounds especially wide, gritty and low-slung tonight, recreating that ‘Real Big Sky’ kind of tone. This is especially true of this version of ‘Deliver Me’, complete with rich vocal ad-libs and subtly different vocal phrasing on the choruses.  

Emma Ruth Rundle. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

Emma now wears a beaming smile, seemingly from out of nowhere. “I’ve just seen the most beautiful woman in the world,” she explains, having just noticed dancer and model Holly Carlson, well-known on the London scene, stood to her left by the stage edge, to whom she blows a kiss. 

“Here in my citadel of self, I can be safe”. I’m so pleased to hear ‘Citadel’ again tonight, a personal favourite from Engine of Hell. One of the least interpreted performances, Emma doesn’t need to embellish the album’s gentle finger-picking and strumming to bring tears to her crowd’s eyes. “I wave to you,” and she does, “on my way down”, and she slaps expressively on the guitar body. Her pause between verses seems unrehearsed, caught in the moment.  

Emma admits that “I’m nervous all the time, let’s be real,” and is met with supportive applause, but it’s rarely noticeable. She’s full of emotion on ‘Blooms of Oblivion’, another Engine song with a vocal performance that truly captivates. Everyone here is now living inside this song. The most powerful moment of the show comes during the lines “Handing down a fistful of sorrys / you will never say”. . . Emma clutches the air during a pause. . . “I love you, see?”, and she stamps the floor. 

Emma Ruth Rundle. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

Back to Ocean, Emma plays ‘Haunted Houses’, using reverb and distortion to segue into ‘Shadows of my Name’, overlaid with abstract Rorschach patterns – and featuring a wonderfully abrupt ending. 

Towards the end, Emma thanks us “for being such a kind and respectful audience,” and we were, receiving these songs in near–pin-drop silence, followed by rapturous applause. There is some banter with an especially vocal fan, which Emma seems to enjoy, and she mentions that she’s struggling to move to live in the UK. “I need someone here to marry me!” Emma jokes and – needless to say – one or two people seem ready for instant matrimony.

Emboldened a little by the chat, Emma makes a final joke about the performative nature of encores and agrees to stay onstage to play ‘Real Big Sky’ as the real closer. Plugging her electric into a keyboard amp, it gives her a heavy, dirty, low-end sound that is the only way to reinterpret Marked for Death’s devastating finale. Emma bares her teeth (“But I can’t wait to see you on the other side”), forcing out the emotion she has left (“I can’t wait to kiss the face of the big sky”), and she gestures upwards, her phrasing exquisite: “I don’t want to say goodbye to you, my child.”  

I repeat that this show is worthy of a live album. It doesn’t seem easy for Emma to do what she does, but that’s what makes her shows so powerful. This doesn’t feel like a performance: rather , a recital of the songs through a practiced veneer of confidence; every song is allowed to be raw, authentic, and unflinchingly honest. Emma allows each one to reflect her mood, her nerves, her emotions, making every performance unique; and this is why I’ll keep seeing her shows again and again.  

Emma Ruth Rundle. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland