Keeley Forsyth - Musical Theatre
Please note: for tonal reasons, this article appears in monochrome.
In its 60+ year history, British soap opera Coronation Street has produced at least 2 cult musical artists. One is The Phantom, aka. Chris Fountain, whose run in the early 2010’s ended when he was unmasked as his YouTube horrorcore alter ego. Choice lyrics from his edgelord oeuvre include, “I'm a motherfucking demon, I’ll stab you in the face with a needle,” and, “I will fuck anybody up in the worst way, rape a bitch on her birthday.” However you imagine it sounds, trust me, it’s far more boring. He was sacked.
Another is Keeley Forsyth.
Keeley Forsyth at the ICA London, May 2024. Photo by One Man Underground.
Admittedly, the Oldham-raised actor’s run on the cobbles only lasted 4 episodes over 10 years ago. She’s instead known as a character actor on UK telly. You may have seen her in Happy Valley or the adaptation of tra- (word cut for legal - Ed.) author JK Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy. More recently she popped up towards the end of Yorgos Lanthimos’ Poor Things. But over the last 5 years of her 3-decade on-screen career, Forsyth has embarked on a musical side-hustle.
Through this, she has produced 3 of my favourite albums of the 2020’s.
Hearing Forsyth described as, “a female Scott Walker,” (which just means Nico, doesn’t it?) suggested this could be a cut above other attempts by actors to enter the music business. (See: Bruce Willis, Eddie Murphy, Jennifer Love Hewitt.) A first listen to debut 2020 LP, ‘Debris’, just as the world entered peak naval-gazing, was one of the most intense first-listening experiences of my life - a sonic blend of neoclassicism, 4AD gothic rock, and electronica, held together by Forsyth's crooning, near-baritone voice, offering lyrics of rain-drenched longing, introspection, frustration, fear and loss.
‘Debris’ was not only the best album of the year, it was absolutely the defining album of the year.
Follow-up releases ‘Photograph EP’, ‘Limbs’, and this year’s ‘The Hollow’, continued to furrow these particular sonic and thematic territories. But despite the critical acclaim that these released have amassed, not to mention her on-screen career, Forsyth remains a cult artist. Besides the uncommercial sound, another explanation may be because her live performances are few and far between, thus not cultivating an audience through the touring circuit.
I was fortunate enough to catch Forsyth live earlier this year at the ICA in London. Opener Louis Carnell set the tone perfectly - reclined in a chair, eyes wandering anywhere but towards the audience, his gentle vocals blended with washes of ambient synthesisers in a deceptively captivating performance. His album for Mute, ‘111’, cannot quite match the subtle power of this set, but may be worth a listen for fans of Brian Eno’s more recent electronic work. As an opener for Keeley Forsyth, though, he was ideal.
Flanked in low light on either side of the stage by Colin Stetson and regular collaborator Matthew Bourne, both behind keyboards, Keeley cuts an imposing figure as she seemed to float on stage against a backdrop of abstract video art. Dressed in a black suit, hair covering her face, she gives and extraordinary performance. As she glides across the stage, her arms, legs and face contorting with the music, making use of a single chair as both seat and prop, clearly this is something far more theatrical than gig-goers might have anticipated. And I mean theatrical in the, “Edinburgh fringe drama show performed to a dozen people,” sense, as opposed to a KISS concert. To be clear, I find the former far more interesting than the latter.
Though I do not doubt this is every bit as choreographed as a KISS concert (albeit without the makeup or pyrotechnics), it is to such completely different ends. This is an expression of the music that goes far beyond merely “singing songs.” This is a complete show, as rooted in contemporary dance as it is in a rock concert. It is as perfect a match of form and function in the realm of musical performance as something like David Byrne’s American Utopia on Broadway. Tense, brooding, and met with pin-drop silence from the audience, the mood is only broken when Keeley returns to the stage, grinning ear-to-ear, to receive her much deserved, rapturous applause.
Keeley Forsyth at the ICA London, May 2024. Photos by One Man Underground.
Perhaps the irregular schedule of Forsyth’s performances is understandable when considering the physical effort Forsyth seems to expend in staging her work, not to mention her primary choice of career. But I urge you to take the opportunity if you can, because you will never forget what you see.
