Stan Webb’s Chicken Shack; support from The Johnny Mars Blues Band – Topsham, 12th December, 2015

More superb music in Devon, this time the blues, organised by Julian Piper, and what a great gig.

Blues harmonica expert Johnny Mars – a singer songwriter with an impressive history of playing with, for example, Earl Hooker, BB King, Jesse Fuller, Spencer Davis – presented a stunning set with backing band led by local guitarist Julian Piper. For a musician like Mars who has played some big and memorable gigs it is always warming to see how such a professional will bring the same energy and commitment to a small town hall in Devon, working the gathering with his enthusiasm, demands for crowd involvement [which he got] and that dynamic harp playing, as well as excellent vocal. I can’t imagine the band had much time to rehearse the set, but it was a tight performance throughout, the empathy for the blues shared by all and translating to that felicitous playing - and it was endearing to see Mars so generous in praising the band, especially Piper’s solos. I was buzzed-out by every song, and closing on Crossroads was a blues-delight. 

Stan Webb from the legendary English blues band Chicken Shack is a 69 year old maverick who played with his band a meandering set: at times disjointed, at times incendiary. Often working just this good existential side of chaos, it was mesmerising to watch and hear. I couldn’t understand the opening song until the end, discovering at the last moment it was The Thrill is Gone, but second Reconsider Baby was immediately blues-perfect. Always a fan of Stan’s singing, it was a surprise to hear how this hasn’t waned at all in its distinctive higher tone – not always liked by some – and Stan crooned it wonderfully throughout, holding long sustained notes and bolstered by an echo effect. At one brilliant point – when the band played the glorious I’d Rather Go Blind – Stan walked amongst the crowd serenading all. I have to say there were times where I felt he was hearing in his head something quite different to what he was playing for us, but that just added to the musical existentialism. Political correctness is clearly anathema to Stan, as is any concern for other gig proprieties – he is his own man, insistently. Much of the guitar playing was full volume wah-wah excellence and there were moments of sublime slide. What else could you want from the great idiosyncratic man - and that is precisely what we got.

Sound of the Sirens - Phoenix, Exeter, 13th November, 2015

Glorious Moment

Sound of the Sirens – Abbe Martin and Hannah Wood – are in their moment. They are in their moment because of the recent national exposure on TV by appearing on the launch of the new TFI Friday programme with Chris Evans. Indeed, Evans had already championed them on his BBC2 radio programme. When he knelt at their feet at the end of their live and sparkling performance on the Channel 4 airing, there was genuine praise in the theatrics.

They are also in their moment because it is the culmination of some years of hard graft, creativity, energy, gigging, regular airplay on Tom Robinson’s radio show, a Best Acoustic Act for the South West Music Awards in 2013 and significant festival exposure throughout 2014.

They are in their moment because of talent and the fortuity that is attracted to talent but also offers its moment through the Laws of Musical Sudden Good Luck where in a highly competitive and volatile industry the door opens. On the evidence of last night’s gig at The Phoenix, both in its quality and the reception of a packed, sold-out crowd, they have stormed through that precarious but occasionally giving portal.

The musical quality of this duo is in many respects a given: two sold-out gigs at The Phoenix and on the previous night in Bristol, the successes already mentioned, and the fan base evident on Facebook and elsewhere if you search online. What also impresses then in light of this is the humility in their energy and joy when performing, and a genuine rapport between the two on stage and also with the audience. Their banter is natural and inclusive.

The duo’s Facebook biog refers to their music as a foot-stomping, crowd-engaging female folk/rock duo whose strengths lie in their passion and chemistry and that too is a genuine, honest account. Chris Evans has referred to their playing/performance as tight as a drum and this was my exact view watching last night when I thought of their impeccable harmonies and timing. It is a rousing folk if you want a tag, but it is acoustic music, with guitar and mandolin largely, and the addition of electric piano. A core feature too is the storytelling. Every song is infused with intense lyrics – not necessarily in the actual narratives – but in the attention to thoughtful rhyming, at times, but imagery and detail and meaning. This is not pop music. But it is clearly popular, and they fully deserve whatever furthering success comes their way.

Chris Smither - Matthews Hall, Topsham, 29th October, 2015

Topsham Treat

Smither was in sublime form last night, the second time I have had the privilege to see him play live, and to see and hear him in such an intimate, local venue as Matthews Hall was the proverbial sweetness on the sweet-already cake.

The highlights were from the start right through to the end. Smither's guitar playing - primarily the blues - is an effortless masterclass, and surprisingly only a few songs are open-tuned. There is a simplicity to his blues-patterns, but the strength of his fingers in bending notes, and for the slower blues [like the beautiful What It Might Have Been] the perfection in tone, make his playing quite stunning.

And then that voice. The baritone that has a slight rasp or booms out its bass resonance on some songs, is as strong as ever. And then the songwriting: fifty years of sustained excellence.

All of this is linked by the ease of the seasoned raconteur, whether telling us about domestic realities or, of course, the history of songs: writing that song for his father which he did hear before he died - the most complex of his songs, I think, and beautiful, Father's Day - and those that have earned, for example, Love You Like a Man, famously covered by Bonnie Raitt, and more recently, as relayed through an amusing anecdote about this, by Kelly Clarkson. His stories are amusing and entertaining, as are so many of the witty songs, such as Origin of Species.

It was memorable, and I am listening now as I type and loving it.

Special mention should go to Julian Piper who organised this gig, as he did when Chris last played locally, reviewed here. A great blues player himself, Julian has an impressive resume as musician and founder of the band Junkyard Angels, as well as guesting with many famous guitarists on stage and on record, but as local impresario he has over so many years brought amazing artists to the Southwest, and last night's was one of many performance feather's in a fellow musician's empathetic hat. Music events like this, and the pleasure it brings to many as well as the introduction to those who wouldn't otherwise have the opportunity, is quite brilliant. Thank you.

You can check out further details about Julian and his music here.

Steve Tilston - Otterton Mill, 25th June, 2015

Fishcakes, Mousse, Shirts and Tilston

Otterton Mill is a café/restaurant venue that has an oak-beam ceiling charm, and the audience at last night’s Steve Tilston intimate gig added a particular genteel, OAP feel: most [if not all, me being the odd one out] had attended first to have a meal, and the aroma of hake fiscake was still rife when I turned up, though by that stage many were eating their delicate mousse desserts or drinking coffee. The men were - as with the majority of gigs I attend these days of bands and/or singers I liked back in the day - either greying or balding [or had already arrived] and wore an array of colourful shirts stereotypically Hawaiian, Lee Perry Polo or check/plaid [ah, that’s me then…..]. Tilston played two 45 minutes sets, and to complete my portrait of the audience I will just point at that during the interval most had more coffee and twee desserts whilst I had a strong cider [rock’n’roll!], and the guy sitting next to me did the crossword he had torn from a newspaper and brought along in his trousers pocket. And I will also mention his kind wife had earlier before the start offered me some dark chocolate she had brought along in a Tupperware sandwich box.

Steve Tilston is one of the genuinely great English singer/songwriters, and he was/is friends with, amongst others famously of the early 70s, Ralph McTell, Bert Jansch and Wizz Jones, the latter whom influenced him in his early days and when he played at Les Cousins in London [and when Steve asked last night’s audience if anyone there knew the club there was a knowing assent from a few so perhaps my shirts and desserts caricature isn’t entirely fair]. Tilston doesn’t appear to carry the wider acclaim/knowing of his contemporaries just mentioned, and indeed my crossworder and darkchocolater didn’t seem to know much about him either, though had seen him at the Mill before. However, this might change as more people see the Al Pacino film Danny Collins based loosely on an incident in Steve Tilston’s life: you can see a video of Steve meeting Al here – Pacino looking like an airbomb has just exploded in his face – and more on the pertinent background story with a review of one of Tilston’s great early albums by me here.

Tilston’s guitar playing is as delicate to virtuoso as ever, and his singing voice is wonderful: folksy when needed, with the attendant resonance that makes it generic, and also quite beautiful with an occasional warble that I so like on his two earliest albums. He opened with his Fairport Convention song [written for them] Rocky Road, with its quick guitar, and then an upbeat Weeping Willow Replanted with its bluesy undertones, a reworking of Weeping Willow by Blind Boy Fuller. He also played the beautiful Fisher Lad of Whitby and the reflective The Road When I Was Young which I am sure had many in the audience in addition to me feeling likewise and rueful. It is a familiar set, so I won’t name others from this expectation, and Tilston tells a set narrative too, for example recounting when at his daughter’s wedding he didn’t play the requested Jacaranda, but instead – as we discover when he starts to play – Let’s Face the Music and Dance, at which point the audience last night [perhaps now fulfilling the caricature] all joined in.

Tilston also played a significant selection from his imminent new album Truth, including another sweetly nostalgic song Grass Days recalling his early musical career and outlook, the plaintive The Way it Was recalling the loss of a dear friend and musician, a wonderful tribute to Nick Drake The Riverman Has Gone written like and played in Drake's inimitable sound/style, and Yo Me Voy which as a recent song reminded me of Tilston's earliest work in the beautiful melody and the distinctive, light warble in his fine vocal, this song as well as others played on his 10 string acoustic guitar. I will review this album later.

WITTERQUICK - Cavern, Exeter, 13th June, 2015

Buoy Oh Boy They're Good

In a hot but well attended and appreciative Cavern last night, local band Witterquick played a buoyant and engaging set of finely crafted songs, ranging from their smart single The Otherside to the folkesque and lyrically rich Wayward Signs. I have reviewed the band and songs in a little more detail here, but what was most pleasing about seeing the band live is the immediacy of their energetic performance with such solid playing. I have also heard what I loosely call their 'cowboy' version of The Otherside [it is more positively West Coast/Americana in its excellent harmonies, but you must hear that lone-prairie whistling to get the other tag....] and I mention because that is what is so refreshing about seeing and hearing them live: their rockier and entertaining qualities are rightly to the fore on stage, whereas in recordings the impressive layers of their vocal harmonising is developed - though don't mistake that comment as there was plenty of vocal prowess demonstrated last night. A great gig to buoy me up after a day of marking!

Photo: Seb

BB King, September 16, 1925 – May 14, 2015

Tributes that are fond and knowing are already pouring in online today, and many more will follow. There will be countless musicians, amateur to professional, as well as blues/music enthusiasts and listeners, who will be thinking today of the sad loss of this genuine musical giant.

Errol Brown - 12th November, 1943 - 6th May, 2015

Another sad passing from this musical generation.

I saw Hot Chocolate in Ipswich. Errol and the band were just so cool, and the playing as perfect as it could be.

Sam Lee and Friends - The Phoenix, Exeter, 28th April, 2015

Privileged Paradox

This was an exquisite gig, Sam Lee and Friends playing a solo set [no support] in two wonderful segments. There were songs from Lee’s first album Ground of its Own, reviewed here, and from his recent second, The Fade in Time, reviewed here.

This is folk music at its most traditional and modern, nothing paradoxical in the re-presenting of songs Lee searches out and learns from the gypsy/traveling community largely across the British Isles and then translates through contemporary arrangements to continue their transmission beyond the oral/sung tradition that would otherwise diminish over time. Even if that tradition could survive, Lee and Friends are introducing this to a new and wider audience, and we are privileged to receive.

The contemporary arrangements I mention are themselves rooted in tradition and modernity – courting contradiction again – but this is embraced by the instruments used and the interpretations played. Sam Lee himself on shruti box, when playing it, provides an amplified resonance of sound as it pulses beneath melodies; Jon Witten on Mongolian dulcimer taps out delicate soundscapes, provides plaintive to upbeat backdrops on electric piano, and plucks and strums on ukulele; acclaimed violinist Flora Curzon provides beautiful defined melodic lines as well as deeply atmospheric strokes, and percussionist Josh Green delivers both touch and considerable energy through his various rhythms, including the range of a tabla tone to a booming on his bass gourd.

I stress the above to celebrate this dynamic band but also because on record with, for example, the addition of jazzy trumpet and other, the arrangements are expansive and full of depth when complementing the traditional songs. It was natural to wonder how this would be matched in a live set with a smaller collective, but the performance was as refined to powerful as on record. For example, Jonny O’ The Brine which opens Lee’s latest album is on record full of trumpet and effects; live at the Phoenix it was as fulsome in the energy and volume produced on stage – Green’s driving beat contributing considerably here.

Sam Lee’s vocal is majestic: sonorous clarity perhaps best describing, though it quite simply has to be heard. There is an excellent article on Sam here which provides huge detail about his life growing up and the passion now for seeking out and archiving on record and in performance the songs he sings. Sam himself informs us of elements of this at the gig, for example, when explaining the personal significance of a song like Jews Garden that is played, and the background story to the beautiful ballad The Moon Shone on My Bed Last Night, also played. Other gems performed often with background stories – well, every single song shone – were The Ballad of George Collins, Bonny Bunch o’ Roses, Moorlough Maggie, Phoenix Island, Airdog, and the sweet Lovely Molly which was sung a cappella, sans microphones, as an encore.

If you can catch Sam Lee and friends on tour, you absolutely must. It goes without saying you must also buy his/their records.

Robin Trower [with support Joanne Shaw Taylor], Town Hall, Birmingham - 28th March, 2015

Delivering

The gig was everything I had hoped for and expected: Joanne Shaw Taylor is a fine and feisty guitarist, and her singing has a raunchy, Americanised-Solihull tone. This was then a ‘local’ performance for her, and some of the extended guitar solos were of the excellent kind only someone truly proficient and playing live can deliver.

Robin Trower is without question a legend and he also delivered with his trademark mellow, feedback-held guitar work. Many of the songs were tight, rock-riff performances, but the gems were inevitably Daydream and Bridge of Sighs where the extended delicate solos were sublime.

He was ably supported by drummer Chris Taggart and bassist/main vocalist Richard Watts. No one could replace the vocal of James Dewar from those earliest recordings, but Watts’ singing is a fine, husky fit. I have a few bootlegs of recent US performances from this trio, and Watt’s singing is very much to the fore, as it should be, but for this Birmingham gig it seemed a little too distant in the mix. A shame.

But none of this detracted from Trower’s finesse and fire when playing. At 70, he would seem not to have lost any of his distinctive skills, nor the enjoyment of playing: mixed in with the facial contortions of his empathetic fretwork were countless smiles as he turned to the band or to the audience. Trower can obviously be content with the musical legacy he has acquired, and he certainly seems at perfect ease with playing still today. What a pleasure to experience.

John Renbourn - 8th August, 1944 - 26th March, 2015

I am sorry to hear of yet another influential musician - both in terms of impact on other artists and those like me who grew up at the time of such musical influence - has died, of a suspected heart attack, aged 70. I have written before that there is a sad inevitability of those who were young adults and popular as musicians in the mid 60s onwards should now obviously be much older and vulnerable to leaving us.

Excusing the euphemisms, it may even sound a little twee to indulge in these postings, but I genuinely rue such passing. In a more celebratory tone, like many I recall John Renbourn firstly for his significant roll in the significant folk impact of Pentangle, and then also his solo work and dueting with Bert Jansch and Robin Williamson, just to name these few of many more collaborations and contributions. I saw John perform twice, and my favourite song he recorded is his gorgeous, plaintive version of the folk song Willy O Winsbury.

18th March, 2015

When the robin sang to me this morning from the tree with white buds I

knew for certain I would soon be voting for him to be our national bird.

We placed the shrubs and flowers bought today onto our new raised beds,

but did not dig them in, and she rearranged them all, making notes, so when

planted I know they will grow to look and smell in a vibrant expectation.

Mowing the grass – the second time on one of the three bits of my lawn –

it was warm enough to wear shorts and therefore also dry for the first skim

on the other two and only three loads to carry to the compost because it wasn’t

damp whilst the height of the cut gave no more than a neat but aesthetic trim.

Speaking of the nation and digging-in and cuts, when the Chancellor spoke this

afternoon of the state we are at, it was as if we had all shared the experience,

heard the same sweet song, had the time to wait and watch for our outlooks to

grow, and carried the load no matter how empty or full to those dark corners

where some of us have had to, but where others - like his eyes - chose to hide.