There was a moment during Ellie Goulding’s inaugural Irish show that I remember so vividly: it pops into my head every time I hear the sprightly poplet’s name (which, even though I don’t listen to BBC Radio 1, is rather a lot). Prancing athletically around the stage, she seemed to delight in songs like ‘Guns And Horses’, particularly the scrappy ‘I’d do it all for you’ refrain, which she repeated while thrusting a confident finger at selected elated members of the crowd.
A similarly glowing flash of show-womanship is the least I expected from Gouding’s Olympia show, a full 15 months after her Academy debut, and sadly, that’s all I got.
As she walks onstage, Goulding makes a beeline for one of two drum-kits, where she does a positively godawful job of starting the show. A fiery electro-pop gem like ‘Under The Sheets’ deserves more than a gimmicky game of musical chairs, but as it turns out, I needn’t be too concerned – her clumsy thrashing turns to perfectly crafty beatmaking before the night is out.
She sounds best on ‘Human’, which sees the 24-year-old mix charming hoots with storming howls. Elsewhere though, she frequently bows out of money notes, opting to gyrate stiffly and trust that the audience field them for her. Seemingly endless inter-song banter about her hair (in fairness, it’s so unruly it occasionally makes her look like a very pretty albino yeti) does little to retrieve the momentum, and blip-free acoustic treatments of ‘Wish I’d Stayed’ and ‘Starry Eyed’ swish with only half the energy they used to.
Percussion is the third star in an Ellie Goulding performance, after her wispy, somersaulting vocals and unruly mane of hair, so the anthemic drum-led ‘Salt Skin’, brilliantly infused with Kanye West’s ‘Power’, was always going to steal the show. Goulding is finally back on form, pounding the snare and hi-hat with tremendous might – for those five minutes only, the diva is back. Still, I can’t help thinking that if the Welsh wonder’s spark continues to fade at this pace, album number two could be a bit of a let-down too.
Maybe the venue swamped her. Maybe her voice just sounds better with electronic embellishment. Maybe the thrill is gone, baby.
Whatever the cause, one killer tune does not a pop show make.