The Sandbox: ‘I’ll Be Your Webcam’ at Laidlaw

“Raise your hand if you’re a fan of The Velvet Underground”

By Katlyn Mortimer

In April of 1966 in New York City, The Velvet Underground and Nico began recording their eponymous debut album. Sixty years later and 5,470km away, a number of St. Andrews’ greatest creatives came together to perform ‘I’ll Be Your Webcam: A Reinterpretation of The Velvet Underground & Nico’. Spearheaded by their ‘fearless leader,’ Felix Saint Bris, the night promised a performance of the iconic record in its entirety. Through the Hearing Aid grapevine and social media teasers, I had heard word of practice sessions and hours of dedication, and so I showed up with rather high expectations, which were very much exceeded. 

Despite operating a music magazine, I had embarrassingly never before set foot inside the Laidlaw Music Centre, where the performance was set to take place on the evening of April 2nd. Lacking a ticket and company, I showed up alone as doors opened at 7:30pm. Around two dozen people were already waiting inside, with this number fast increasing. After purchasing my ticket from an usher in a banana costume, I situated myself in the back row of the McPherson room. The large space itself felt like being inside of an instrument; oak wood walls, floors, and ceiling, with an oversized and geometric-looking banana sat onstage amongst an array of instruments.

As the lights dimmed just after 8pm, we sat in a somewhat awkward and amplified silence, waiting for some sign of movement. When the musicians eventually took the stage a few moments later to roaring applause, Saint Bris took to the mic to welcome the audience and introduce the opening song – ‘Sunday Morning’, for which he performed lead vocals. Immediately, my suspicions that this would be a truly spectacular performance were confirmed, and I had a sense that this feeling was shared by everyone in the room. A standout of this number, and throughout the evening, was trumpetist Lila Kikuchi, whose addition gave warmth and depth to each performance.

 Following this was ‘I’m Waiting For the Man’, which saw Thrush’s Rowan Liddell on lead vocals. In true Lou Reed fashion, he spent the entire performance with sunglasses on, and alternated between the microphone and intense jumping. In this moment I felt that sitting down in a formal manner was wholly inappropriate. Often, an intimate performance space (and static rows of chairs) could dampen one’s confidence to give such a wild and unrestrained presentation, but Liddell’s showmanship knows no bounds. Frankly, I think every attendee was mesmerised by his charisma, and itching to jump along with him.

 For a pairing of slower and ‘horny’ numbers, ‘Femme Fatale’ and ‘Venus in Furs’ saw Saint Bris and Kikuchi on vocals, with some impressive string performances from the trio of musicians tackling the unusual composition of the latter song. Even when this trio – comprised of Sebastian Halbach, Urte Fio, and Liliana Burgess – were not playing, they swayed arms in time with the music. Taking things back to high energy, Hearing Aid’s very own Ben Bagley took the mic for ‘Run Run Run’, which had heads nodding and feet tapping all around. Before ‘I’ll Be Your Mirror’ Saint Bris remarked “now it’s my favourite one,” followed by an echo of several ‘me too’s’. My favourite moment, however, was during ‘Heroin’; a song which details the drug’s effects, with sonic peaks and troughs. It was the most mesmerising of the evening.

 No stone was left unturned in the compositional work; while being a reinterpretation of the originals, each track felt as carefully considered as the next, and the camaraderie onstage was signifier of an ensemble who have laboured over this production in the pursuit of doing justice to the original. But more than this, ‘I’ll Be Your Webcam’ was a standout evening in St Andrews’ increasingly ambitious music scene, and culminated in a performance which felt so beyond what may have been imagined for an entirely student-run gig.

 As I left Laidlaw, I texted some friends who passed on the invite: “not to make you jealous, but that was literally incredible.” Truly, I’m sorry for anyone who was not there. As Felix Saint Bris gave his final remarks, he said “who knows, maybe we’ll do this again sometime…” So, if in the final weeks of Candlemas you see some flyers displaying a banana and a QR code, haphazardly taped to lampposts, you better run run run…