Songs by Kyle Falconer

Book by Laura Wilde and Johnny McKnight

Directed by Andrew Panton and Tashi Gore

Music touches us in a way few other expressive mediums do: yes, even theatre.

We fall in love to music; it’s our first port of call when we break up or when we’re sad or need to get something out we can’t find the words for. And for Lana and Jessie, it’s no different.

Meeting young, the pair’s one-night fling blossoms into a deeper connection, and eventually, a child. Lana attempts to balance later education but soon finds it difficult to manage. And when finally, that big break comes along for musician Jessie: America. No more pub gigs, no student nights, a proper chance to provide for his family and make it big. And for Lana, she couldn’t be happier. At least, that’s what she tells Jessie.

Overwhelmed by postnatal depression, Lana struggles with the everyday takes of raising both a child and grappling with the isolation of now, effectively, being a solo parent. Silent, unwilling, or unknowing to their need for help, Lana continues to fall into darkness, just as Jessie’s life seems to be heading to something new.

There’s an uncanny ability within both performances to strip back the drama onstage and focus it into something authentic – even fending off the musical nature (in some twisted, paradoxical manner) to maintain No Love Songs’ position as an earnest production without melodrama.

The book, written by Laura Wilde and Johnny McKnight, never tips the balance into the overly melodramatic. Indeed, No Love Songs is almost pedestrian in its window through Lana and Jessie’s life: a life which could be seen and is seen on every street in the world. It’s just a window people choose not to look through, or don’t feel they need to.

It’s especially in part thanks to Dawn Sievewright’s performance, which captures a fragile form, but still communicates its awe-inspiring strength and power within vocals. It’s sensitive, nuanced and undoubtedly brokers any gaps the audiences may have with the story: either with a personal or connecting experience.

Almost blinded to Lana’s distress, Jessie sits amidst the audience, occasionally turning to converse, it’s an almost casual approach, further reinforcing just how accessible and every day No Love Songs is. John McLarnon’s Jessie has a pleasantness, but an unmistakable mortality to the mistakes he makes and the attempts to atone and belligerent refusal to accept his own mental-health shortcomings.

The musicality of this gig theatre makes sense for the narrative, Jessie being a musician and their initial meeting being surrounded by song and beat. It’s a ballad-heavy score, arranged primarily for guitar and keys by Gavin Whitworth to play Kyle Falconer’s songs. It’s a constant presence, but one which never oversteps the performance. Evolving, it’s a touching addition that often as McLarnon begins a number, it is Sievewright who often transitions the song from work-in-progress to a full ballad, a fresh cyclical reminder of the pair’s relationship.

Perhaps a touch too earnest, too sincere, Dundee Reps’ No Love Songs’ melodious nature carries the show through to fruition, benefitting from two touching and well-measured leads. This tale, borrowing elements of Falconer and Wilde could easily be the story of many in the audience. A blend of music, laughter, honesty and tears, this heartfelt journey navigates the ups and downs of a new life together, and the necessity for an openness amidst the music.