There’s a jarring disconnect between Ellie Goulding’s polished, rather retiring pop, and the whoops of boozy acclamation that greet her at The Academy.
The Brits Critics’ Choice winner is not quite a pop star in Ireland. Her debut album, Lights, limped into the top ten, whereas it shot to No.1 in Britain. But you’d never guess that from the greeting she receives tonight.
“You’re amazing,” she says, as yet another between-song monologue is drowned out by cries of ‘Ellie, Ellie’ from some worse-for-wear girlies down the front. ‘’I’ve never had a reception like this.’’
In truth, it’s hard to understand why they are so hot and bothered. Yes, Goulding knows her way around a mannered pop ballad – her early hit, ‘Under The Sheets’ is a fantastic example of what Bjork might sound like on elephant tranquilizers, and a stripped down cover of Midlake’s ‘Roscoe’ is almost as tingle-inducing. Elsewhere, however, the tone is more vapid than shoe-gazy, even when Goulding tries to ratchet up the tempo by spanking a drum cymbal. ‘Starry Eyed’ is as sweet-smelling and insubstantial as smoke rising from a joss-stick; ‘Guns And Horses’ fails to live up to its fantastic name, dissipating in a haze of bed-sit angst.
The relative under-performance of Little Boots – last year’s hype propelled new thing from the UK – has led some to suspect that the Britain’s talent for spawning overnight pop stars is on the wane. Engaging but raw at the edges, Ellie Goulding suggests there may be truth to these murmurings.