WITH her bluesey, boozy songs of flooziness and regret Mary Coughlan is the perfect soundtrack for late night meditation. Standing steadfast on the border between jazz and blues she weaves ordinary tales of love, bitterness, neglect and revenge in the most extraordinary way. Her voice carries the depth of the Atlantic, at times soft, soothing, and filled with endless charm or, when the occasion demands, strong, brutal and devastating. From her stocking feet to the tips of her flamehaired locks she is every inch the diva: sad, sexy and soulful but with out ever succumbing to the melancholy that surrounds her.
There are times though when one wonders if Coughlan isn't just simply going through the motions. On this the second night of her short Irish tour, the band guitar, keyboards, bass, sax but no drums - take a while to settle down. Sounding ropey and even a little underrehearsed they have trouble keeping step with Coughlan's plaintive, off kilter croon. This is most obvious on the songs from her new album, After the Fall, and less marked on old favourites such as Ride On, I'd Rather Go Blind and the playful party piece, I Want To Be Seduced. Thankfully, long before shows end, the audience, the musicians and Coughlan herself are swept off their feet by a woman with talent to burn.