Live Review: Angel Olsen, Ella Thompson

“Quality banter.” That’s how the guys from Geordie Shore would have summed up the night.

The Oxford Art Factory continues to host packed houses. It’s starting to feel like they’re running out a Truman Show-style infinite loop of three or four different types of crowd member. It doesn’t matter who’s performing, there’s always the healthy helping of over-50s dancing at the front, still riding high from the Fleetwood Mac tour of 1990. There’s always the barely 18-year-old who’s managed to swindle their mum into coming along, and there’s always the subservient boyfriend/girlfriend who stares dead-eyed at the stage the whole time, being supportive, but also making it clear they are their own person and this kind of music just doesn’t “speak” to them like Blink 182 does.

Ella Thompson impressed with her new batch of indie-dance numbers. A blend of live acoustic drums and machine-driven four-on-the-floor kick-drum numbers drove the performance. She played some stuff from her forthcoming record, joking joked about how long the album was going to take to come out between nuggets of discordant, sample-laden synth-pop.

The crowd was left buzzing for Angel Olsen and they weren’t let down. The band came on and played three in a row straight from the immaculate indie-folk gem Burn Your Fire For No Witness and you’d be forgiven for thinking this was going to be a no-nonsense, in-and-out kind of fare. Not so. The crowd was treated to stories about how Olsen’s dressing room smelt like cheese because they forgot it was summer here and came sans deodorant. The highlight was when Angel stared at an unknown audience member and said “Don’t make me laugh, this is very serious,” busting off a few chords to the brilliant unfucktheworld before inevitably chuckling.

When not engaging in ‘crowd work’, the whole band flourished. Olsen’s voice a truly beautiful and unique blend of myriad influences. The whole group, meanwhile, is one tight, chugging organism.

When looking around at the end of an Art Factory gig, you know full well when a show has struck a chord. The whisked-along mother feels like it was worth the drive in, the subservient partner is caught sneakily adding the artist to their “chill vibes” Spotify playlist, and the over-50 gets to ride that 15-year vibe-train for at least one more week. Then, when the night is done, the infinite loop resets and they all go back to their starting positions.