k.d. lang

IF you came to The Point night looking for country feedback, then you were looking for love in all the wrong places but if you…

IF you came to The Point night looking for country feedback, then you were looking for love in all the wrong places but if you came in search of absolutely fabulous torch and twang, then Canadian singer k.d. lang kindly obliged. This was as far from Nashville as Oz was from Kansas, and lang played havoc with roles and genres, seducing the girls and the boys with her breathtaking voice and delicate, caressing touch.

Right from the start, lang confounded expectations, coming on more like a light headed debutante than a hard nosed dyke, gently teasing out our emotions and proving that being a lesbian doesn't mean you have to cover up that heart rending vulnerability that makes the whole world want to hold you in its arms. In short, she was an angel, and when she unleashed that heavenly voice of hers, her sexual preferences ceased to be an issue, and sensuality became public domain.

Despite the forbidding size of the venue, lang and her band managed to provide some strange, special fruit, letting the sound grow outwards rather than throw it in our faces.

Since lang's songs sound so earnest and sincere, one would have expected the lady herself to be serious and straight faced, but once again she blew away the preconceptions by behaving like an absolute nutter all the way through the gig, cracking jokes and playing out the camaraderie between herself and the band. To introduce Miss Chatelaine, lang produced an orchestra conductor's baton, then donned a bright purple jacket and pirouetted around the stage while a bubble machine sent delicate spheres of liquid light floating around her. It was pure girlie fantasy, and it said more about lang's sexuality than any feminist manifesto could manage.

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Equally, Constant Craving straddled the genders, capturing that unique pain and longing which anybody can feel anyone who had a heart, that is.

In contrast, the encore of What's New Pussycat was strictly for the girls, and the women and men rushed to the front of the stage to be touched by the hand of their soul sister. She ended with one final, soul drenched song of farewell, leaving us basking in the afterglow of one beautiful, life affirming voice.

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney is an Irish Times journalist