Laurie Anderson at the Barbican

Saw the old trout last night, and very good she was too. No singing as such [though there was as good a version of 'I'm A Little Teapot' as you're ever likely to encounter], this time Laurie was doing her raconteur thing. Amish grumpiness, working in McDonalds, incest recovery groups all covered in her own blank verse deadpan delivery with occasional musical interludes. There are three more nights, so if you're a fan, I'd say go. Last time I saw her [around the time of 'Bright Red'], the visuals were so impressive that I got the feeling that the click track or whatever that controlled them was really constraining for her, making the event more a technical achievement than anything else. This was much more fun. The most disturbing thing was the audience - largely middle-aged and grey haired [i.e. people like me]. Only the usual smattering of ladies with sensible shoes who find Ms Anderson the Sigourney Weaver of rock marked it out from an Elaine Paige concert. Made me feel something or other, - I haven't yet decided quite what.

throb