Alexander Tucker

I'm someone who takes delight in chance, in the unpredictability of events. Still, I have my certainties, like "Marquee Moon" by Television or grandma's cake, and I know that no one will ever be able to chip away at them or disprove them.

The following piece is tied to Saturday, May 19, 2012, and to two certainties - my own, as always - linked to that day. Certainties which, at first glance, I swear to you, I considered unshakeable.

Since this is a music magazine, the one that concerns us now has to do with Alexander Tucker's concert in Naples, part of the A Casa series. Put together by Wakeupandream, the event is now in its second edition, once again hosted at Riot Studio, a lovely venue ringed with greenery and deck chairs in the heart of the old Neapolitan city centre, which certainly soothes body and soul. It's relaxing, in short. Perhaps a bit too relaxing, given that at the first edition, the solo-guitar sets by Ben Chasny and James Blackshaw saw even the musicians, seduced by the setting, play a little too laid-back, to the detriment of the feeling.

And so, since Tucker too treats the guitar - acoustic, in this case - as a second skin, and in light of his recent releases on Thrill Jockey, tonight I have no doubt the six-string will make an appearance.

The small room housing the stage has proper seating and comfortable cushions, in case you'd rather settle onto the floor. The atmosphere is almost homely, as if we really were - nomen omen - at home. Tucker has had his hair cut; more than a rocker, he now looks like a Pavement fan, and laid out on a table, with no trace of "classic" gear, is a whole array of pedals and perhaps a Kaoss Pad, along with a string of floppy disks and other gadgets I can't quite make out.

The concert begins, and Tucker, twisting knobs, swapping floppy disks in and out, fidgeting about quite a bit, looks like one of those guys who play the laptop while picturing themselves - ahem - as guitarists. He's dynamic and on form, and has planned the set alternating electronics, with treated vocal warbles, with fully-fledged songs. And here's where things get interesting. When you go to a gig, everyone wants one song more than any other, and if I hadn't heard "The Glass Axe" tonight (I'll never forgive Blackshaw, for instance, for leaving out "Cross") I'd have held it against him. Naturally, he plays it. Naturally, after the first few seconds of the intro, I expect him to reach round for the guitar and perform it in all its glory. And you know what? Its beauty isn't dented in the slightest, yet there's not a plucked string in sight. Everything pre-recorded except the vocals, which by now we can take as a given.

I persist in my conviction, certain that one variation won't dent my original thesis. Just as "Rh" doesn't surprise me, rendered in its original electronic guise, nor does "Andromeon" do much to shake it either. They simply carry me away, that's all. But then, listen to "Mullioned View" and especially "A Dried Seahorse", more enchanting than I could have imagined, and I draw a conclusion: beyond its absence, I didn't even miss the guitar. And more than anything, I was flatly proven wrong.

And so, put in my place, disproven yet satisfied, I get home just in time for the Champions League final penalty shootout. Amazed that Chelsea held out for 120 minutes, I have no doubt Bayern will win in the end. They're simply too strong. The Londoners win. Second thing I got wrong.

It's Saturday, May 19, 2012, and today I had two certainties. Two.

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