Last Thursday night I was washing in my hands in the bathroom at Manhattan's Le Poisson Rouge when a skinny guy who looked like Noel and Liam Gallagher's secret brother asked me about the act we were both there to see. "Is Florence And The Machine popular here?" he wondered.
I told him that Florence Welch (the Machine refers to whichever musicians happen to be backing her at any given time), isn't really a household name. But after watching her show, I would've added, "She's on her way, though."
Dressed in a puffy Victorian-style white dress and shawl and playing songs from her debut album, Lungs, released last year, Welch, ghostly pale and gifted with fiery red hair, come off like a Tim Burtonized version of Stevie Nicks. She's got some of the same witchy charisma as the Fleetwood Mac singer, but her boisterous physicality made her seem less remote, as if she'd braid her friends' hair after they all finished with the Ouija board.
On record, Lungs tracks like "Kiss With A Fist" andRead More »from Florence And The Machine Get To Work In New York City