Chris Wood, Traverse

A Soundhouse gig in the bar of the Traverse Theatre and a rare visit to Scotland for the much celebrated Chris Wood from Kent.  From the start he's engaging with his audience, making them laugh with background to the songs and a steady dose of self deprecation.  'Not nervous, just stupid' he tells us, but the songs belie that judgement.

There are a few traditional folk songs, albeit given the Wood treatment in their arrangements, and that unique approach comes over strongly with his interpretation of Blake's Jerusalem.  I can honestly say that it's the first time I've ever enjoyed listening to this song, the usual sentimentality and bombast sloughed off and replaced by thoughtfulness and caring.  Sung like this it becomes a lyric the English political left could claim back from the 'patriots' and used as a statement of intent to bring a better life to all.

But the great strength of the set lay in his own compositions.  Wood's relaxed vocal style is complemented by his very professional guitar work.  There are no musical fireworks, but enough clever playing to give depth to the overall sound.  There were no outstanding tunes among the songs either, no really memorable hooks, just a steady competence.  So far, so pleasant, with one further ingredient that makes the listening experience so memorable.

There are some wonderful lyrics contained within this selection of love songs, political rants, observations on everyday life.  Lines like 'The Argos catalogue is our tormentor' (from None The Wiser) provoke laughter, recognition.  Wood has that magical ability to be both everyman and storyteller.  Tales of middle aged love, a song about the police killing of Brazilian Jean Charles de Menezes, and a bleak analysis of recession Britain.

My companions commented that they found the whole set too one paced, with nothing upbeat to break the monotony, and this is a complaint I've made about other artists in previous reviews.  Yet I don't feel able to make that complaint on this occasion.  In part because his patter was so entertaining, but mostly because I found myself absorbed in those lyrics and the images they created.  Best not to treat this as a folk gig, and think of it more as poetry with music.  Even the most austere reality he portrays has an underlying warmth and sense of hope, the possibility that it could all be so much better.  What more can you ask from a poet?