Nottingham's Beloved Otala graced The Bodega for the last time for the foreseeable future. The Mic’s Liz Clarke attended to soak up some some funky sounds and bid them a loving farewell.
Following two great support sets from singer-songwriter Bram Bancroft, whose voice was terrific, and the confident, engaging, energetic punk band - who use three different guitars to create a distinctly layered sound - Martial Arts, Nottingham post-rock band, Otala took to the stage at the Bodega on a busy Saturday evening for one of their biggest headline shows yet, having recently supported the likes of FEET and Fat Dog. There was a clear sense of anticipation in the air as we approached the start time, on account of the reputation for a beautiful live show that they have developed, and they did not disappoint!
"The steady, jazz-influenced rhythms both contradict and contrast vocalist Oscar Thorpe’s anxious spoken-word vocal style, creating a distinct atmosphere which is becoming a recognisable part of their style, where a manic and frenetic energy still leaves room for introspection."
The first three tracks that Otala played: the as-yet unreleased Plates and Silica, and their most recent single, Patchwork, are most aptly summarised through the latter title: these tracks are patchworks of various ideas, with influences flying in from various places and moving through different dynamic sections, loud and quiet moments colliding with one another. The drumming from Fin Hills throughout the show was exemplary, and the performance of Patchwork was proof of this: the steady, jazz-influenced rhythms both contradict and contrast vocalist Oscar Thorpe’s anxious spoken-word vocal style, creating a distinct atmosphere which is becoming a recognisable part of their style, where a manic and frenetic energy still leaves room for introspection.
Later in the set, the tracks Commedia and Guatavita were played back-to-back, with Thorpe jovially pointing towards the merch table at this point to advertise the double single of those tracks which has recently been released. Guatavita, in particular, is indicative of the potential for growth and distinction in Otala’s sound. Their neurotic, dissonant style, which takes some cues from No Wave, combined with spoken-word vocals has drawn comparisons to contemporaries such as Black Country, New Road, and not without reason. The similarities are definitely existent, with a core difference being Otala’s preference for streams of short, snappy tracks which transition almost seamlessly into one another live, as opposed to BCNR’s tendency to spread one idea along various movements of fewer, more prolonged, songs. However, Guatavita represents one of many possible points of evolution for Otala: it is more decisively noisy and atonal than most of their other tracks, which tend to oscillate between moods very rapidly, and as such seems more confident in its ideas and bursts with personality. Live, it is brief, and perhaps the loudest moment of the night, with its ear-splitting dissonance ripping through an increasingly impressed crowd who were beckoned ever closer to the stage. Similarly, Tell The Bees is a track with a similarly jittery mood, which builds in a short time frame to a dazzling, audibly and visibly stressful crescendo, reminiscent of the anxiety found in a track by a band like Slint.
There is also a distinct sense of community at the show: as the opening chords of the transcendent Everything But The Hate play, smiles spread across faces and a voice shouts “THIS IS THE BEST ONE” and a few people laugh. Similarly, a new track played towards the end of the night features the lyric “There’s no music scene here,” and a scattered laugh is heard: on account of just how clearly there is a music scene in Nottingham, with the atmosphere in this room, and amount of familiar faces, being verifiable proof of it. The aforementioned Everything But The Hate also leads the crowd into a prolonged group head-banging session, with Charlotte Foulkes’ emotive saxophone breakdowns in particular seeming to spur us all into a trance. The track was described by Thorpe in an interview for the Sprawl Magazine as a poem about homesickness, and this emotional point of origin for the lyrics is visible on Thorpe’s face throughout the song, as he becomes visibly moved by the passion inherent to such a topic, in line with us in the crowd who are now wholly immersed. His general stage presence is static, but emotive, with even his facial expressions and glimpses into the crowd throughout the set showcasing a genuine belief in the music that he is performing and lyrics that he is delivering, which, despite seeming to come from deeply personal places, are nonetheless capable of connecting across an audience. He varies his delivery to emphasise the most important moments of his poetry: and whilst the live format does inherently mean that lyrics can sometimes take a backseat to performance and musicianship, several deliveries of lyrics to as-yet-unreleased songs cement themselves in my brain throughout the set. In particular, the use of a perfectly timed vocal break when a lyric references voices breaking, which cuts through the more monotone delivery that was used throughout the rest of that song, still sticks with me as I am writing this.
Overall, whilst there is still clear room for Otala to develop their own distinct identity as songwriters so as to stand out more amongst contemporaries, and some tracks throughout the night did blend into one another slightly, it is nonetheless clear from this show that they are extremely talented and confident musicians and performers, who know how to build a connection with a crowd. They are rapidly developing a well-deserved following, on account of their distinct blend of jazz, post-rock, and emotive, poetic spoken word. Though this is said to be their last Nottingham show for a while, it is absolutely worth seeing them live when the opportunity presents itself!
Liz Clarke
Edited by Bethany Coldwell
Images Courtesy of Otala on Instagram
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