Caught Live: Whale Watching II (Bedroom Community) Tour @ The National Concert Hall, Dublin

The 'Whale Watching II Tour' isn’t necessarily the easiest concept to sell, since the Bedroom Community itself seems a little resistant to definition – it describes itself as an Icelandic record label/collective, and tonight’s show is billed as a four-way headline show split between founder Valgeir Sigurðsson, Vermont-born singer Sam Amidon, Australian composer Ben Frost and New York-based composer Nico Muhly (the latter known to many for his work with Grizzly Bear, Björk and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy). There seem to be quite a few cooks standing over this broth, and you might be forgiven for wondering how exactly it’s all going to work onstage. Not to mention where exactly the whales are supposed to fit in!

The clue (to the first answer at least), as Sigurðsson suggested to us recently, is in the ensemble's name: the show exudes a relaxed, familial vibe, with collaboration the name of the game. In practice, this means squad-rotation – and lots of it – as each piece is followed by a bout of onstage shuffling between the eight performers while the hyperactive Muhly (assuming the role of compère for the evening) chats to the crowd. Vocal duties alternate between Amidon (whose plaintive, vulnerable songs are lent new layers of drama by the addition of piano, strings, upright bass, trombone and electronics) and Helgi Hrafn Jónsson, while most of Frost and Sigurðsson’s pieces are entirely instrumental.

The NCH appears to be less than half-full tonight, which doesn’t help the atmosphere. This is more than compensated for, however, by the venue’s excellent sound quality and the musicians’ evident willingness to go beyond the formality of the surroundings. The highlight of the evening is the ‘Two Sisters’ suite from Muhly’s excellent Mothertongue album, a piece which wonderfully exploits the contrast between Amidon’s repetitive, childlike chanting of the lyrics of an old folk song and a complicated, and often discordant, musical accompaniment. Building up through experimental, playful percussive textures (Muhly can be seen tearing strips of paper, and even scratching Jónsson's head into the mic at one point), it grows in intensity as jagged strings and wordless, pulsing, Steve Reichesque vocals enter the mix, before eventually subsiding. The musicianship and togetherness displayed during collaborations like these ultimately give the evening a real sense of porpoise (sorry!), and ensure that The Community leaves the stage to a standing ovation.