Live Reviews September/October 2009
Quick-links to sub-sections:
End Of The Road Festival - Larmet Tree Gardens, Dorset - 11th-13th September 2009
Doghouse Roses - Bodega Social, Nottingham – 11th September 2009
Band of Heathens - Maze (Nottingham) - 29th September 2009
Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express - Railway Inn, Winchester - 29th September 2009
Howe Gelb - Stereo, Glasgow - 30th September 2009.
Eilen Jewell - The Maze, Nottingham - October 12th 2009
Eric Taylor & Naomi Sommers - Jumpin’ Hot Club @ Cluny 2 Newcastle - 10th October 2009
Eilen Jewell – Stereo, Glasgow - 14th October 2009
Chuck Prophet & The Mission Express with Franz Nicolay - The Garage, London - 1st October 2009
Eilen Jewell - Jumpin’ Hot Club @ Cluny 2 Newcastle - 15th October 2009
Seasick Steve - The Lexington, London - 19th October 2009
James McMurtry & The Heartless Bastards - Jumpin’ Hot Club @The Cluny, Newcastle - 11th October 2009
Indigo Girls – Shepherds Bush Empire - 25th October 2009
Tinariwen – Warwick Arts Centre- 31 October 2009
| New reviews for the End of the Road Festival, Doghouse Roses, Band of Heathens, Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express, Howe Gelb, Eilen Jewell (3 reviews no less), Chuck Prophet, Eric Taylor, Seasick Steve, James McMurtry & The Heartless Bastards, Indigo Girls and Tinariwen.
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| End Of The Road Festival - Larmet Tree Gardens, Dorset - 11th-13th September 2009
Review by Oliver Gray
A sell-out crowd on the same weekend as the nearby Bestival proved that End Of The Road has filled its niche exactly. Friday’s victory went to the grandiose soft-loud classical suites of Explosions In The Sky, although the repetitive riffage drove many into the more jaunty arms of Vetiver and Herman Dune. Saturday’s bar was immediately set very high with an intelligent set by Leisure Society. The Low Anthem didn’t let gremlins or wasps affect their sombre, downbeat tales, which mingled with the sunshine to create a bitter-sweet mood. Putting big names onto the tiny Tipi stage caused some hairy moments, but, if you could get in, the likes of Peter Broderick and J Tillman (appealing oddballs both) made the crush worthwhile. Then, as the Broken Family Band bade farewell, Canadians The Acorn pulled off a surprise claim to being audience favourites of the day. More sartorially snappy (though not as dapper as Magnolia Electric Company), Okkervill River (a kind of Texan version of Elbow) found emotional connection more difficult to establish. Similarly more cerebral than exciting, Fleet Foxes came across as a slowed-down version of Yes. They made the place seem more like a cathedral than a field, and were duly worshipped. Sunday kicked off with contrasting veterans T Model Ford and Bob Lind, the latter with star friends Richard Hawley and Jarvis Cocker. Celebrating fifteen years of sobriety, Steve Earle was in his element, but, along with Neko Case, was obstructed by rare bad sound quality. As The Hold Steady duffed up the Garden Stage, the top performance of the weekend came from an on-fire Richmond Fontaine. There was weeping in the aisles – for joy, of course. | | Doghouse Roses - Bodega Social, Nottingham – 11th September 2009
Review by Jeremy Searle
Scottish duo Doghouse Roses exist in that hinterland where folk, blues and Americana meet, equally at home with “Blackwaterside” as “Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor.” At the Bodega Social their boundary ignoring music is demonstrated to the full as they both support and play in the dark intensity that is Willard Grant Conspiracy. The latter allows Paul Tasker to release his inner electric guitar god, as he coaxes by turns plaintive and wailing sounds from his instrument, but good though this is his work with the Roses is better.
In their half hour set, he and Iona Macdonald, she of the effortlessly pure and emotionally charged voice, do primarily their own songs, of which the timeless ache of “Gone There” and “The Thunder Of The Dawn”, a classic in the making and a subtle piece that belies its title, are the highlights. The aforementioned “...Pallet...” also gets an outing and Macdonald’s casual intensity burns into the soul of the song, while Tasker’s classic picking guitar works in and around the melody with effortless ease.
A Friday night support slot is never a easy gig but Doghouse Roses are a class act and class, as they say, tells. They come away with a well-deserved and convincing win, and will certainly play to more attentive, and larger, audiences if there’s any justice in the world. | | Band of Heathens - Maze (Nottingham) - 29th September 2009
Review by Alan J Taylor
Boy have we been treated well at the Maze recently! James and his team have brought us the some amazing acts. Willy Vlautin and Richmond Fontaine blew us away with their combination of rocking numbers and lachrymose ballads. Simone Felice with Duke & the King literally electrified the audience with their magnetic performance and Chuck Prophet . . . well, there’s a man with a crowd pleasing persona if ever I’ve seen one! With each ‘performance’, the connection with the crowd, though perhaps in different ways, was palpable. So, it was with much expectation that the much vaunted ‘Band of Heathens’ took centre stage. The ‘Heathens’ are three successful Austin based vocalists and songwriters in their own right (Colin Brooks, Ed Jurdi and Gordy Quist) who make up the nucleus of the band, together with drummer John Chipman and bassist Seth Witney. The respectful silence of the crowd took them entirely by surprise, so much so that the quick witted Witney produced a spontaneous comedy “Shshshshsh”, forefinger placed in front of his lips, much to the amusement of those assembled.
From the very first notes of Cornbread sung by Brooks left of stage, it soon became clear that we were in for something special. With Gordy Quist sounding and looking like a pretty Ryan Adams and the soulful Ed Jurdi taking it to the top, the set blossomed. Trading songs and verses and harmonising effortlessly, each singer displayed his own particular vocal talent and increasingly, guitar talent, as the night went on. High points were the excellent Jackson Station, Hallelujah and Look at Miss Ohio. However, hardly a word had been spoken to the audience up to this point, aside from a short dialogue to explain that they had CD’s on sale. It soon became clear that some in the crowd were beginning to question if the band were actually aware that they existed, it was workmanlike and technically brilliant but it was rapidly becoming tedious. As time went on the guitar breaks became louder more lengthy and more tortuous. A poignant moment came three quarters into the gig when Quist at the end of another self indulgent ear burster, expressed surprise once again at the between song silence, the bar ‘wag’ swiftly and loudly retorted “You’re sending us to sleep!” and I think that succinctly said it all. Here we had three incredibly talented guitar vocalists who amazingly failed to produce a single personality between them. They could reproduce the numbers on their CD to perfection but it was going over the head of the listeners.
Collectively, they failed to make any real impression on much of the audience who were silently willing them to break the mould, do an acoustic balled or at the very least, talk to them for a moment. Oh, yes Mr Jurdi - a really loud “How y’all Nottingham?” just doesn’t really qualify, if that’s ALL you have to offer. Maybe that works at Sam’s 24 Hour Diner – but it sure doesn’t work at the Maze. So it came as no surprise therefore, when they burst into another same old, same old, this time with a little more grit and grimace before retiring for their encore. It turned out that the early comedy “shshshshsh” was the high point of their somewhat dire audience interaction. A proportion of the crowd had already departed before they made it back to the stage. I joined them, (maybe I missed the acoustic ballad?) on the way to the 24 hour cardboard cut-out emporium . . . think I’ll get the new CD - ONE FOOT IN THE ETHER (which of course, is brilliant!) and watch those cardboard cut-outs, it will save me a penny or two in future! | | Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express - Railway Inn, Winchester - 29th September 2009
Review by Mike Plumbley
Great gigs begin something like this. Oliver snatches a paper sign off the door, a steady file of punters funnel down the narrow passageway and into the Railway’s back room. Birgit’s there to tear off the ticket stub, Richard brands me with the SXSC rubber stamp, four bats flying around Gotham City Hall.
No tables tonight, no room, but there is pent up expectancy as the low ceilinged back bar fills to the brim. At one end the barmaid keeps pace with the queue, at the other the low lip of the stage is littered with instruments. The valve Fender amp and Telecaster must be Chuck Prophet’s. Dabbling with Sudoku logic, the bass, drums, keyboards and rest of electric guitars will belong to the Mission Express. That leaves a banjo open in its case, an accordian and an acoustic guitar in front of the mikes.
It isn’t long before I have the owner for those. Making his way through to the front is a dude in a pork pie hat, a white suit and sporting a waxed pencil moustache that I hadn’t seen the like of since Rockette Morton came on stage with Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band. Feller down the front told me Franz Nicolay was from a band called The Hold Steady.
Tonight blessed by a listening audience, Franz Nicolay cut to the swerve, never a falter on the high wire nor a missed trapeze between gulps on a blood red bottle of wine, his clutch of songs took the heart, cut the ether: full bodied burlesque, mixed with tango, a dash of bossa nova and CBGB’s punk stirred in. I loved it, especially when this Brooklyn poet with all the panache of a Broadway hoofer ended his show with a song by one of his heroes.
The way he introduced it was that this son of the same soil had begun as a whore house pianist before making his name in New York’s burlesque shows. Can you believe it, we had a Jimmy Durante song performed with banjo accompanient. Cracking ending to a fine set.
There was time to get to the bar, bring drinks back to a small group of us split down the middle between Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express virgins and those that lost their virginity a while back.
Pretty soon, Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express are coming through the crowd and making the stage. I always think Chuck has the look of a guy who’s been out all night in a Tom Waits song and whoever he’s carrying a torch for I want a piece of. Like everyone in this tightly packed back bar tonight, I’m about to get a baptism of fire.
Chuck Prophet set the tone for the evening early on, declaring “Someone’s been lying to me, they said it was a sell out, they’re lying, there’s room for a small child down here . . .”
The only way for me to get a handle on events is to put it this way: I’m on the night train out of Chicago bound for starlit St. Louis down there on the mother river Mississippi, the porter’s tuned the radio to GKN Chicago, BB King is coaxing the soul out of Lucille, rhythms pounding across the switches, engineer pulls one long whining cry on the whistle, the aching, the longing right here under a black Illinois sky. Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express are like the best music that comes from that porter’s tiny radio and they are riding that mystery train with a passion which leaves all the bland broadcasts I heard this week in the dust.
With Chuck’s colours nailed to the mast of all my heroes from Muscle Shoals, Memphis and points on the compass like Strawberry Fields, a wild ride from Bo Diddley to the Beatles and beyond, I wallow as happy as a pig under the spell of his guitar.
But it isn’t just that guitar sound nor Chuck Prophet’s wired persona or the tom cat funk of the Mission Express or the exquisite purr of Chuck’s partner Stephanie Finch as she sings and plays Farfisa organ. What seals it is the way each and every song comes over like a scene from a Cohen Brothers movie and fills your head with images and your soul with sustenance.
Chuck Prophet probably nailed the point of it all when he made a long introduction to After The Rain, describing spending days with Stephanie’s dad Phil while the girls were out of town. Phil ,being a ‘rocket scientist’, wanted to know what kind of amplifier Chuck was using. He told him a 1962 valve amp Fender, which baffled Phil because there had been so many technological leaps in micro circuitry in the modern world.
To demonstrate why the valve amp Fender was king, Chuck Prophet let loose one of those piercing Telecaster licks that sent a shiver right down my spine. “I want it to go right out there”, pointing over the heads of the audience.
That sound really came into its own by the time we reached the official last number, by which time our little group was as wired as Chuck and the band. A blazing You Did torched the walls. Chuck asked the question “Who put the bomp in the bomp-shooby-dooby-bomp? Who put the ram in the rama-lama-ding-dong?” and the “you did” responses from the fired up crowd just about sealed the night.
But there was more, had to be, as the band came back for an epic climax of four songs, beginning with a nod to Bruce Springsteen and in honour of his recent sixtieth birthday and full on to a final closer, a blistering take on to the Yardbirds with For Your Love.
As the room emptied, the buzz remained and I wanted to turn the dial to GKN Chicago, and all the way home, hear it all again. | | Howe Gelb - Stereo, Glasgow - 30th September 2009.
Review by Paul Kerr
Giant Sand man Howe Gelb made a welcome return to Glasgow to play in this forbidding box of a room where the stage dwarfed the audience. Despite this obstacle he managed to turn in a performance that was at times positively vaudeville.
Looking dapper in a suit jacket, waistcoat and hat, Gelb started the show by telling his audience where each item in his apparel came from, jacket from a thrift shop in Bath, hat from Australia, watch from Croatia etc. until he said “and this song’s from 1989 and launched into “wearing the Robes of Bible Black.” Playing an amplified semi acoustic guitar and using two mics for different effects he alternated some wonderful picking and Barney Kessell guitar licks.
Kicking his effects pedal he would whip up a ferocious storm in lieu of his band. Interspersed were his genuinely funny asides, punning and playing with words. He reminisced about his last time in Glasgow when Isobel Campbell joined him on stage. Mentioning that she is currently in Sweden recording with his drummer, Gelb related his past percussive partners and their current doings, Tom Larkins, playing with Jonathan Richman, Winston Watson, plays with Bob Dylan, John Convertino, Calexico. “Guess I’m just a good luck charm for drummers” he mused.
Moving to a Roland keyboard Gelb fooled around with some instrumentals after a short demonstration of the Roland’s cheesier possibilities but it was when he was back on guitar that he really shone.
His best moments were kept for last as he encored with superb renditions of “Shiver” and “Wonder” showing a mastery of guitar and dynamics and singing with a warm authority that had the audience baying for more. With or without a band, Gelb can capture an audience and the experience is one to be savoured. | | Eilen Jewell - The Maze, Nottingham - October 12th 2009
Review by Alan J. Taylor
Every now and then when you go to a live gig, you realise that you are experiencing something pretty special. The diminutive ‘old time’ diva in black, Boston (USA) based Eilen Jewell, simply made a cold Monday at the Maze, feel like a midsummer Saturday night somewhere deep in the Appalachians. With her little black dress, black cow-girl boots, pearl necklace and infectious smile, she could hardly go wrong and she didn’t. Somewhat dwarfed by her dreadnought guitar and backed by her marvellous band, Jerry Miller (guitars), Jason Beek (percussion and vocals) and Johnny Sciascia (upright bass) she soon had the crowd eating out of her hands with her warm natural humour and excellent set. The set was, I have to add, partly dictated by an animated Nottingham crowd, who urged her to sing pretty much anything . . . and I mean anything.
With songs from the new album SEA OF TEARS moving from sorrowful laments such as Fading Memory and Sweet Rose to foot slapping rockabilly Shakin' All Over she seemed as comfortable with the material of George Jones and Hank Williams as that of her own, her relaxed delivery was simply enchanting. The sultry mastery of her voice on a Billie Holliday number was a source of wonder to all. With her cheeky elf like, between songs patter, she had pretty much every one singing to the catchy but pain soaked Rain Roll In and open mouthed at her delicate swaying version of Johnny Kidd & The Pirates Shakin All Over. Somehow, as the girl with the beguiling smile, swayed, shuffled and shook, I found my self mesmerised in some kind of ‘Twin Peaks’ Lynch like moment, somewhere deep in Logtown, as Miller’s guitar twanged and the upright bass slapped out the rhythm and finally spun like a top. Her gamely attempts to divert from the set list to the crowds behest, were commendable and her final unprepared take on a Hank William’s number was an unexpected delight of an encore.
Comparisons to Gillian Welch, Roseanne Cash and Lucinda Williams - I don’t know? . . . I reckon she has a style all of her own. Diminutive she may be, but what a girl! Catch her while you can, she’s young, naturally witty, talented, has a great Americana pedigree and a band who know pretty much - just when she is about to breath. As a posse of breathless forty and fifty-something males, emerged into the cold autumn air, nodding their approval and pondering a new found love, I briefly had another surreal ‘Lynch’ like moment. High on the experience and recalling the enchanting I’m Gonna Dress In Black and the train ride that was Dusty Boxcar Wall I found myself back in Logtown, musing over re-incarnation. Imagine . . . . If Johnny Cash was re-incarnated as a girl, would he . . . . could he, have been . . . . . Eilen Jewell? Man, it’s time to go home! | | Eric Taylor & Naomi Sommers - Jumpin’ Hot Club @ Cluny 2 Newcastle - 10th October 2009
Review by Maurice Hope
Texas singer-songwriter Eric Taylor has a special relationship with Newcastle’s Jumpin’ Hot Club as he no doubt has with numerous venues that he is called back time and again to play.
In recent times Taylor has played two or three shows at the medieval Morden Tower —a poetry reading room set on the top of the city wall in China town it is a place he just loves. For not only is it a unique small circular room with only one door it has seen among others, Allen Ginsburg read there. With luck Eric may well get back there one day and if all those he has told about the place on his travels were to show up then the street never mind the room itself wouldn’t be able to house them!
Prior to Eric and his unique style of playing, telling stories and performing it was the turn of New England singer-songwriter Naomi Sommers to make her debut in the area. The daughter of former Seldom Scene lead vocalist and songwriter, Phil Rosenthal she is keeping the family tradition going in a wonderful fashion.
Sommers’ after a tentative opening, where her vocal deliver suffered through a lack in elevation she made up for it once she had ‘Mama’s House’ under her belt. Inspired from a visit to a friend’s house in New Orleans her descriptive style of writing aided by a lilting melody saw her gain in confidence and a remarkable change in mood in her performance take place. Her selection of country tune ‘It’ll Be Alright’ and fitting finale, ‘Top Of The Hill’ couldn’t have been better selected. She may not be quite there yet, but who is to say one day she won’t soon have them flocking to gain a listen —such is her unassuming talent. If proof is needed then check out her new album, ‘Gentle As the Sun’ and you will be agree with me whole-heartedly.
After a short interval it was now show time as Eric Taylor took to the stage in this fine listening room, and he slotted into the groove immediately as he spoke of the joys and heartache of the carnival train that flipped over one time as he described the people who worked the circuit. Written for a one-man show he is currently assembling, Taylor had the audience riveted to his every word as with a twinkle in his eye he recollected how the popcorn girl at the Old Quarter in Houston, Texas used to shout out for the late Townes Van Zandt to sing a happy song. Please sing a happy song won’t you, please. Just one she would yell out only for Townes to smile and say ‘these are the happy songs!’ It was moments like these Eric as a storyteller reached the height of his prowess and then there was his prowess on guitar. Playing in a folk, country and sometimes blues style he projected it around the room as he accentuated the emotion of the powerful lyrics.
Time and time again in between flipping over the pages of the folder containing his songs on a low table alongside a glass of lemonade (it is usually a whiskey bottle) Eric spoke of how he was once addicted to heroin and then how at a AA meeting he met Johnny Cash one time. He also spoke of Cash’s mother selling merchandise at the family’s Hendersonville home on a Sunday afternoon, drug dealers in Manhattan and there was the moment when he recalled the times of one of California’s most beautiful folk singer-songwriters and hugely influential, Kate Wolf. It was like he wanted to play all night and given the freedom of the venue midnight would have come and gone without him blinking an eye.
Taylor may have had his vices, but through his humble and straight ahead style as a performer and songwriter he brings alive real life situations of America’s old south and larger than life characters —who like himself are inclined to defy all logic.
As for the songs some of which on taking in the introduction lasted ten minutes or more we had ‘Brand New Companion’ that sequined into ‘Lulu’s Back In Town’ and ‘Dirty Dirty’ that had him playing out the lines, vocally and with a twinkle in his eye, his facial expression Eric was at his irresistible best. That also goes for superb efforts ‘Prison Movie’ and ‘Two Fires’ where, by which time he had cut the intros that are always great to concentrate on getting an extra song in before close of play.
After two hours on stage who could begrudge this remarkable entertainer a little free time, and though not a name ever to see chart success in his own right, Nanci Griffith and only just recently for the second occasion Lyle Lovett have covered his work. Lovett’s version of Eric’s ‘Whooping Crane’ can be heard on his new album Natural Forces (Humphead/ Lost Highway) and if justice were done then a whole bunch more people would do likewise.
As mentioned Eric’s output quickened as the final quarter was reached but the mystical ‘Hemingway’s Shotgun’ was still peppered with recollections of how Jerry Jeff Walker never tunes his guitar and then on a more serious note were his memories of Wolf to whom many people have gravitated since her passing in 1986 and with a song of the same title of a song of hers ‘The Great Divide’ Taylor shared a chunk of his heart.
Some of his friends may now be no more; Wolf, Townes and Dave Van Ronk but when he is performing on stage he feels the spirit warm his body and it was with honesty like this Taylor becomes lost in a world not only of his own. But through his lyrics and humorous etched anecdotes he brings to life imagery matched by few. | | Eilen Jewell – Stereo, Glasgow - 14th October 2009
Review by Mike Ritchie
If you like Lucinda Williams, you’ll like Eilen Jewell. Similarly, if you like Laura Cantrell, Gina Villalobos, Emmylou Harris and Gillian Welch, Eilen is the musical gal for you.
That was the clear feeling I got through this excellent 100-minute set but, though she did remind the audience of all those artistes, it is her own performance, songs and on-stage appeal that mark her out as a singer/songwriter very much in her own right and very much on the way up. On this showing, the plaudits coming her way are well deserved.
Without too much effort but with obvious care and compassion, she peppered her set list with rootsy Americana, sultry blues, haunting folk, foot-stompin’ rockabilly, sweet gospel and effortless swing. Pigeon-holing doesn’t appear to be for her nor her voice.
Boston-based, she cited her influences as Loretta Lynne, Billie Holiday, the Rev Gary Davies, Donovan and Johnny Kidd and The Pirates, whose “Shakin’ All Over” was covered here and appears on her widely praised third album release, “Sea of Tears” which, sadly, wasn’t available on the night to buy, she informed us. If they had sold out at previous gigs, it’s no surprise.
She moved dustily and gloriously through roots/rock numbers a la Lady Lu, hustled and cajoled by her top-notch band of Jerry Miller (electric guitar,) Jason Beek (drums, harmony vocals) and Johnny Sciascia (upright bass.) This is a band that must be great to have on your side. Beefy and chugging when necessary, subtle and refined like fine, misty rain on Jewells’ more folk-tinged songs; they were a treat.
Her eager change of mood, genre and tempo never once jarred. Her understated comfort in the material was clear. She took requests and had fun. It was that kind of a pleasing night, promoted by the tasteful Fallen Angels’ Club, currently celebrating five years of putting on good sounds in Scotland. | | Chuck Prophet & The Mission Express with Franz Nicolay - The Garage, London - 1st October 2009
Review by Jonathan Aird
At last the festival season is over and bands are playing gigs at sensible sized venues again. It's fine, if standing in mud is your thing, but the real rock and roll expereince doesn't, to my mind, include waving a flag two hundred feet away from the stage. So to The Relentless Garage (and that's the last bit of sponsor advertising we'll be seeing in this review thank-you very much) which is a good place to get back into gig going again - a nice size, maybe 400 capacity, and smartly renovated inside. And it's hot. Very hot. I mean really hot, but not from crowds of eager music fans. About thirty minutes before the stage time for the support, Franz Nicolay, there's maybe forty people in the room. Fortunately a respectable number pile in over the next twenty minutes.
Franz Nicolay is nattily dressed in white suit and hat, his razor sharp mustachios off setting a pork pie hat. He launches into a semi-stream of consciousness vaudevillian rock cabaret featuering tales of dead sailors, fake statements of love and juxtopositions of the unexpected - "There will be violins" of course leads into his guitar being abandoned in favour of a piano accordian accompanied song. A 5-string banjo makes an appearance later on, but Nicolay is a less convincing player of this instruement. Banjo snob, moi ? Well, yes.
You know how sometimes something isn't really bad in any way you can really put your finger on but it still doesn't connect with you ? That's how I feel about this set; Nicolay is literate, engenging, and has an edgy charisma, all good things but somehow the package just doesn't come together for me. However, from the applause, I'm in the minority.
Now surely at or near capacity The Garage is expectant as we wait for Chuck Prophet to take the stage, which he does to rapturous applause. He, and the Mission Express, immediatley set off to prove they are worthy of this welcome - and prove it they do kicking off with a a pounding driven Sonny Liston's Blues. So, here's the deal with this band as I see it - they are perhaps the ultimate rock band on the planet right now. Nothing is beyond them, and they don't hold back. It's a thrilling ride, exhilirating, and justifies solid, literate, uplifting rock as a vibrant and cultutally important medium. And riffs come easily to this man and lyrics which, for sure, recall Green On Red, but also drift into the Dylanesque. The dreamscape conversation of Hot Talk recalls the reported conversation songs of the Infidels era Dylan.
The set is liberally sprinkled with songs from the outstanding new album, Let Freedom Ring. A great take on the title track and the Pettyesque Good Time Crowd sounding rawer than the album version and You And Me Baby (Holding On), dedicated, after a long anecdote about his father in-law dispareging Chuck and his choice of amplifier, to all those who've had to live with their in-laws. And the music is just sublime, and the total joy of Chuck's sidekick guitar player, who not only owns but is happy to use a twin-necked electric - 12 string and 6 string - on which he alternately stabs out fluid solos and adds sweet slide guitar. The rhythm section - did I mention pounding before ? Did I mention that the bass player was totally funked up ? Glorious noise.
Of course Chuck also faces up to the important existensial questions of life, and doesn't try and dodge the big ones - like just who did put the bomp in the bomp shooby dooby bomp ? And, for that matter, who put the ram in the ram a lama ding dong ? The answer, as the crowd know, is you did, and darn it if Chuck doesn't prove with every guitar break that that is sure enough the truth. And whilst we're on questions here's another question - is it worth spending a billion dollars on control of the Mexican border ? - that is addressed in the spoken/sung Barely Exist. This indictment of border control policy that keeps out of California the very people who will work the lowest paid jobs in the state, rolls along easily, punctuated by a twin guitar assault introducing the chorus and Chuck's sweat drenched harmonica break.
Older material is not neglected with a fine Automatic Blues, down and dirty, Summertime Thing as a tribute to the unusually warm day, and the excellent Doubter Out of Jesus amongst others. Stephanie Finch took stage front for a track from her album - Cry Tomorrow - which it has to be said sounds quite like a Chuck Prophet album with female lead vocals. And none the worse for it. She also adds rhythm guitar on a couple of songs when Franz Nicolay joins the band for keyboard duties. At which point it's three guitar heaven.
It's back into the night with a clutch of Cd's and a euphoric heart. I don't want to make this the hard sell but, well, this - is - the - band - to - see : you really should see this band. | | Eilen Jewell - Jumpin’ Hot Club @ Cluny 2 Newcastle - 15th October 2009
Review by Maurice Hope
Americana gal, Eilen Jewell has the last couple or so years made giant strides in the music business —by way of her albums, Boundary County, Letters From Sinners & Strangers and her latest recording Sea Of Tears, plus her side-project The Sacred Shakers.
Idaho-born, and now Boston based Jewell brought her three piece band to the Cluny, and like when I saw them at the Kilkenny Rhythm & Roots Weekend in 2008 their music was something special. Possessing a rock solid feel as upright bass (John Sciascia), Jerry Miller (electric lead guitar), percussion, drums, vocals (Jason Beek) supported Jewell’s gutsy lead vocals and acoustic guitar everyone was given space to perform. With each act and not only the awesome guitar of Miller impressing, Jewell enjoys arguably the greatest support of any female or otherwise act on the Americana circuit.
Part rockabilly and part old country in no particular order aided by hints of swing, blues and as with a requested cover of George Jones gospel ‘Tag Along With Jesus’ a little gospel. Performed in the intimate and listener friendly theatre styled venue the music reverberated around the room as she kicked in with material from her CD, the title-cut ‘Sea Of Tears’. The gritty hard driven sound like with a dozen more had the place rocking and, though of a cheerful persona Jewell as a writer is drawn to the sad, heart-tugging ballads (just like the above noted George Jones) to render unlimited emotional heartache.
With the audience on their side the moment they stepped on stage they could no wrong. Jewell, with such a fine bunch behind her and an easy stage presence where she doesn’t see herself as the star but just another member of the band (But what a band!) she simply tapped out the rhythm with her cowboy boots as the respective players shone.
With requests adding to her set list, Eilen had to leave a couple on the shelf on yielded to public demand to include the likes ‘If You Catch Me Stealing’ that she did as her encore. This immediately after Johnny Kidd and The Pirates golden oldie ‘Shakin’ All Over’ send shivers up and down the backbone of those on an off stage.
A champion of lonely heart songs and those in particular by her heroes, Billie Holliday and from Butcher’s Holler, Loretta Lynn. Now there is a gutsy woman.
Talking about women’s lib, Lynn with her songs about drinking, cheating, the pill and how women could fight fire with fire raised quite a ruckus in the world of country music back in the late 1960s.
With Jewell commanding the stage without cramping the style of the band she moved quickly from one song to another, and with material coming from all her albums including her side project The Sacred Shakers the audience enjoyed the complete package. As with the minimal of fuss delivered wonderful version of ‘Rain Roll In’, the above noted Lynn’s ‘The Darkest Day’ and from the Sacred Shakers ‘Tagalong With Jesus’. Where Beek’s sharing lead vocals was a great bonus and something the audience would naturally have liked to hear more. This statement observation was no reflection on the efforts of Jewell because she was sublime as she showed herself to be the business.
Among the most treasure songs covered during the course of the 80 minute set her cover of Charlie Rich’s ‘Thanks A Lot’ (not to be confused with the Ernest Tubb – Loretta Lynn hit) coupled with arguable her best effort other than from her own pen, the haunting ‘Dusty Boxcar Wall’ (Eric Andersen) plus the shuffling country rockabilly rhythm to die for with wailing guitar, the rhythmic ‘Heartache Boulevard’ and when things become too much —the jazz cum blues styled ‘High Shelf Booze’ not far behind.
Eilen Jewell’s love of heartache tinged with songs of a foreboding feel coupled with rockabilly country fare performed in such an honest fashion make her a rare and precious commodity in a world where honesty and unassuming is not the regular deal. | | Seasick Steve - The Lexington, London - 19th October 2009
Review buy Jonathan Aird
A new venue to me, The Lexington is not unlike The Borderline, but upstairs rather than in a basement, and I can't say how glad I was when the room opened as there was a strong smell of vomit in the downstairs bar/restaurant, not too cool and I was glad I'd changed my mind about eating there. But this is a music review, not a good food guide.
This had initially been advertised as a rare intimate gig, and then, a little after I'd bought a ticket, as "an album launch party" for the new album Man From Another Time. So, at least I knew the set list. For me, if you say doors at 7PM, but you really mean 7:45PM, and there's not going to be a support band, then 9:10PM is a bit late to kick things off. Unless you're supplying free drinks. Which they were not. Some party.
Seasick emerged to a welcoming cheer - dressed in his usual checked shirt and patched jeans - accompanied by his excellent drummer Dan Magnusson (but sadly no Amy LaVere), and quickly settled himself in with his Diddley Bo - which he was at pains to point out he had not named after Bo Diddley. It was in any case an instrument that predated Bo Diddley. In fact it was what Bo Diddley named himself after. There were to be a number of such factual corrections through the night, and they pretty much replaced the more familiar "story segments" of a Seasick Steve gig. So, with the facts ironed flat, he launched off on the basic rock riffing Diddley Bo, which contains full assembly instructions for anyone wishing to create one of their own. Except for the pick-ups, no word on the best pick-ups to use.
Steve switched to slide guitar on a small acoustic 6-string, which made a big sound, for Big Green And Yeller, a love song to his new vintage tractor, which those sporting their battered green John Deere caps surely appreciated. Not sure I was much touched by the lyrics - about ploughing and fantasies of towing a caravan and causing a traffic jam - but the slide guitar was very nice.
There followed a series of songs each with their own peculiar instrument - a cigar box guitar on the rocking blues of Happy; a battered but nice looking Edwardian parlour 5-string banjo for The Banjo Song. Nice banjo, could do with a bit of care, it was also the best song so far with a soft mournful accompaniment to a near whispered plea for somewhere to call home, somewhere that a man could die in peace. The timeless gothic tones wrung from the banjo perfectly suiting this meditation on life's end.
Then there was the Morris Minor hubcaps guitar body with a broom stick for a neck. And not forgetting the battered 3 string guitar he uses on his boogie songs, and there's no getting away from it, Steve did produce some wild sounds from this assortment of unlikely axes.
A slight diversion from the Man From Another Time album track list was provided by Walking Man, off his last album, sung, as usual, to a woman pulled up out of the audience. Steve was unhappy with the level of chat during the quiet introduction to this gentle declaration of love, and forcibly suggested that conversations cease. When this provoked some heckling along the lines that he was just an act he appeared to be genuinely angry, and ready to get off the stage and thump the fellow. Fortunately he didn't, satisfying himself with a growled "there's always one" but this perhaps goes some way to explaining why he felt the need to correct points he'd heard or read about himself. Anyway, quiet was achieved, for a short while, and he sang the song through, and then reprised it when the woman left the stage, and this reprise was genuinely touching.
The slow quiet blues of Just Because I Can - celebrating his train hopping escapade during the recording of his previous album - was a highlight, it's one of the best songs off the new album. However it was the raucous electric blues and boogie numbers which allowed both Steve and Dan to let rip that were inevitably the highlights of the set. Dan is just fantastically controlled for such a seemingly wild drummer, his playing was a joy to behold and a pleasure to hear. Never Go West, Seasick Boogie and
the extended closer of Doghouse Boogie gave the proper visceral thrill. To me it is this music, in particular Dog House Boogie, the only song from the first two albums, which really captures the appeal of Seasick Steve. Something wild, something homemade, something real - whatever the hell that means.
They came back out after Dog House Boogie, to throw some copies of the album into the audience and to sign, well, just about everything. All in all though it was an ok night rather than the great gig I'd imagined. Somehow it seemed as if Steve never quite took full control of the room : there was a lack of audience focus which generated an enervating energy. It should have been all fire, but for me it was more sparks.
Set List (seems a bit short - may have missed one or two !)
Diddley Bo
Big Green And Yeller
Happy (to have a job)
The Banjo Song
That's All
Walking Man
Just Because I Can (CSX)
Never Go West
Dark
Seasick Boogie
Doghouse Boogie | | James McMurtry & The Heartless Bastards - Jumpin’ Hot Club @The Cluny, Newcastle - 11th October 2009
Review by Maurice Hope
Texan singer-songwriter, James McMurtry and his band The Heartless Bastards make the kind of raw-boned music that makes people pay attention and that is before you even get to McMurtry’s incredible songwriting. Is there anyone out there writing such wordy, fast and furious style of material at him or come near doing so?
Immediately into the fray, McMurtry with a casual glance in the direction of the audience as he plugged in his electric guitar he struck up a chord and they band, presently down to Daren Hess on drums and Ronnie Johnson on bass and vocals ‘Bayou Tortue’ soon followed by the impressive ‘Just Us Kids’ and sheer brilliant, ‘Hurricane Party’ – I just love the lines speaking of there being no one to talk to when the lines are down and looking for his cat and how his house will take the weather.
Playing great grooves and some choppy licks McMurty with his hair sticking out all sides of his felt hat and trimmed beard and tall lean frame he looked the part of band leader. A free spirited non-conventional performer writer who doesn’t give rat’s ass what record label bosses, government officials or anyone who pushes a pen and dictate what is and not sanctioned and real people don’t get to voice their views.
A voice speaking above others, McMurtry gets beneath the surface on all fronts; musically (magical grooves etc.), attitude and as said before as a writer of such killer tunes as ‘You’d Thought Also, there was the real coup. When it was only his acoustic guitar and the song Ruby And Carlos —rich in breath taking imagery and loaded in heart-tugging lyrics the listener is whisked through a series of life changing emotions of the characters. As the band drifted back I thought to myself do we expect he can follow that? I need not tell the McMurtry followers out there this but he did! As he set free the hard driven ‘Childish Things’, stunning piece ‘Fraulein O’ and a host more.
On living up to it’s title the gritty ‘Restless’ spoke of among other things of how despite being a little messed up and down but he believes he will make it. Then with them pressing hard ‘Freeway View’, ‘Red Dress’ and possessing a punishing beat late inclusion ‘Too Long In The Wasteland’ with Tim Holt joining them on stage playing electric guitar of a great quality as they cranked it up further James and the boys were really cooking.
Although I hold a reservation or two in regards whether they briefly overdo the power aspect on occasions there I had no qualms when it came to such sublime efforts as ‘No More Buffalo’ or the peerless ‘Choctaw Bingo’ where he blasts off a series of killer lyrics and even at ten minutes it isn’t a moment too long. Man, it doesn’t get much better than this. It now only leaves us all to ponder what he is going to come up with next! He hasn’t left us down yet so who to say there won’t be songs equally as good on his next album when ever that may be. I for one just wait. | | Indigo Girls – Shepherds Bush Empire - 25th October 2009
Review by Andy Williams
“I am a fan."
Through an autumnal postcard I drove into London to meet up with an old friend - a journey made many times and done from memory. When Amy Ray and Emily Saliers come to tour (a rare event here in the UK) I gladly pack my bags and follow where I can but a London show is something special, an event. While avoiding speed cameras and lunatic Sunday drivers I contemplated other trips, real and otherwise while listening to the acoustic version of Poseidon and the Bitterbug - as good an Indigo Girl's album as there is.
As a bloke of a certain age with a young family I'm not your tabloid headline Indigo Girls fan but their music has been part of me since a friend from Tennessee told me about a great band he'd met and gave me a copy of what would become "Strange Fire" on a TDK 60. I met my better half while singing one of their songs and I did end up buying her a ring. Passing years and each album is always glibly reviewed with the same "return to form" and "luscious harmonies" epithets which are misleading. Over 20 years plus I can count on one hand the times their songs have lost semblance of form and shape and sounded uninspired or beige. They may not always reach the heights to which they aspire but they always die trying, aiming for inspiration, a moment, a lyric, a harmony.
Question: Name me an overtly politicised band operating for the most part within the American music system, ignored by commercial radio in the States but still signed to a major for the better part of 20 years, numerous gold and platinum albums, Grammy's, countless sell out tours. Throw in the nature of their sexuality which 20 years ago was an issue and you haven't got a recipe for success. So how come they're still here? How come they can still fill a London venue and for the most part nearly every venue they go to? It's not as if all that chart success is gaining them new fans is it? What's the appeal after all this time? Sure - they aren't playing the soulless O2 Arena, but I want some humanity with my music thanks.
So to London, the touts and the fancy dress brigade gathered outside the Walkabout are watched and sidestepped and into the Shepherd's Bush Empire, one of the only "venues" left in London. They can change its name but please leave the rest alone. The support comes and goes (really very good) and we are surrounded by the traditional crowd. Lifer's are up front, fresh from the road, full of stories and greetings to fellow travellers and lost friends well met. Couples of all orientation congregate and wait for the compass to point stage ward. Lights dim, whoops and hollers ring out and out walk the Indigo Girls (joined by long-time collaborator Carol Isaacs on keys of all sorts).
They start out with "Love of our lives" from the new album and it's apparent all is not perfect in the Emily Saliers camp - a rotten cold taking the edge of her vocals - but the harmony is intact and moving and the guitars work perfectly in tandem, each matching the other note for note. An Indigo Girls concert will always follow a pattern. New songs are listened to politely and embraced slowly by the crowd, the players grateful for the audiences willingness to listen and take in - thanks y'all. Older songs are liberally thrown into the mix and fall into one of two categories - songs which are requests or deserve an airing ("Deconstruction", "Become You" and "Gone Again") and those which they know will become call and response. The audience expects these in the way a child expects Christmas and they're delivered like gifts. The audience knows it's part - the na na na's from "Least Complicated", the half whispered 1234 in "Joking", every word from "Power of two", the chorus from "Watershed" and the implied thanks to the assembled crowd in "Galileo". To an outsider this would be hackneyed cliché - to be part of this community it's as sure as sure as Spring follows Winter follows Autumn follows Summer.
At the heart of the matter is emotion - they write songs about love, affection, passion, hatred, inquiry, anger. So we have a song ostensibly about a boat, which contains an Emilyism (occasional over extension of a construct or metaphor) but also the lines:
"I’ve stared up at the place where the water meets the sky
and though I stopped breathing I still believe I should try"
which are sung with such bittersweet harmony you can't do anything but be left speechless. Then the three minute blast of Amy Ray and a mandolin singing "Johnny Rottentail" from the criminally underrated solo album "Stag" - her voice is one of the most thrilling things in all of rockdom.
Question: why is it in polls of the best songwriters or even best guitarists don't these two get a mention? Emily Saliers is a guitar virtuoso (as she show's in Chickenman/Bitterroot) and although lately she's been less inclined to demonstrate her dexterity on record, live she shows just how accomplished she is. As songwriters, I say their body of work stands up against the very best.
So they leave these shores again with the intention to return and thanks to the audience - another rendition of "Galileo" and a haunting take on Bob Marley's "Redemption Song" with three part harmony as Stephanie Dosen joins in. Why more people don't get the Indigo Girls is beyond me. Maybe that's a good thing because when it's time to congregate in London or wherever to see an Indigo Girls show again, we know it will be something secret.
Love of Our Lives
Sugar Tongue
Fill It Up Again
Become You
What Are You Like?
Driver Education
Power of Two
Gone Again
Least Complicated
Second Time Around
Deconstruction
Joking
Get Out the Map
Shame On You
Fleet of Hope
Three Hits
Johnny Rottentail
Watershed
Chickenman/ Bitterroot
Closer to Fine (with Stephanie Dosen)
Encore:
Redemption Song (with Stephanie Dosen)
Galileo” | | Tinariwen – Warwick Arts Centre- 31 October 2009
Review by Jeremy Searle
Despite missing their most recognisable member and nominal frontman Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, apparently taken ill just before the gig (though my French is a little rusty and something may have been lost in translation), Tinariwen’s strength as a “real” band with everyone contributing sees them through yet another excellent show. The slightly odd seating arrangements at Warwick – a standing area in front of the (low) stage that blocks the view of the first seven or eight rows actually improves the gig as people leave their seats and come down to the front to dance. And dancing is the only possible response to this band. Desert bluesmen, soul survivors, categorise them as you will but the sinuous loping grooves they lay down remain irresistible.
After their successful adventures off the beaten track with nu-folkies Tunng earlier in the year the band are now firmly back to what they do best. Latest album “Indariwen: Companions” sees them going back to their roots (not that they ever truly left them) and whether it’s a slow solo piece or a full band wig-out that drives the audience into a frenzy of waving arms and swaying bodies the set is a joy from start to finish. All communication is in French, apart from an “ok” at the end of most songs that is greeted with a thunderous affirmative, and the band clearly enjoy themselves as much as the audience.
The only disappointment is that they play for barely an hour, which feels a bit mean, but to be fair sweating in heavy robes under lights must be hard work and an hour of Tinariwen is worth a week of dates by lesser bands and an audience that leaves bouncing, happy and invigorated has little to complain about. A triumph. |
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