Roddy Woomble's Christmas Hootenanny, Teviot Debating Hall

So what's a hootenanny?  Roddy says he doesn't know, but it makes the gig sound a bit more festive.  If Jools Holland can get away with it....

With a solid four piece backing band behind him, and the excellent Sorren Maclean and Hannah Fisher on either side to provide lead guitar, fiddle and backing vocals, Woomble delivered a set list that mixed favourites from his three solo albums with covers of Xmas and party songs.  The voice appears to be gaining a bit of depth as he enters his forties, but as ever the main strengths of his performance lie in the poetry of his lyrics and the deft vocal phrasing that is his signature.  This ability allows him to turn the cheesiest festive number into something that's both familiar and fresh.  The old Drifters classic Save The Last Dance For Me had a new lilt to it, whilst even hoary old chestnuts like White Xmas come out sounding like they've had a makeover.

Adding a bit of variety, the second set opened with Woomble offstage and the Maclean/Fisher duo taking the limelight with a lovely interplay between their voices.  In between numbers Roddy's understated introductions and gentle humour develop a sense of intimacy with the audience, as if he'd just come along to sing in your living room.  It's an enjoyable antidote to more 'showbizzy' approaches and a pleasant, hype-free way to put on a seasonal gig.  Lovely.

Paterson

Every weekday Paterson wakes early, kisses girlfriend Laura, has breakfast, walks to work, and drives a number 23 bus through the streets of Paterson, New Jersey.  After work he walks home, eats dinner with Laura, takes Marvin the bulldog for a walk and has a beer in Doc's bar.  It sounds like a mundane, dull existence, except that it frees his mind for his great passion in life, writing poetry, taking his inspiration from the minutiae of life.

Each day has it's small differences too, not least those provided by Laura who likes to experiment.  Food, decor, clothes, career path are all full of possibilities to her imagination, even if the results don't always match expectations.  But she also wants his to share his poems with the world, while he's content to write for his own satisfaction.

Paterson's equilibrium is challenged by events, and his reactions can sometimes surprise, but throughout it all he displays an inner calm, even a hint of heroism.  Adam Driver is superb as the lead, a man at peace with his world, and Golshifteh Farahani's Laura is a high-energy visual and verbal rollercoaster, rushing from one high to the next.

There are some striking images, and several recurrent themes that add to the overall coherence of the movie, and the sense of beauty in the mundane.  It's a reminder that the key to contentment lies less in possessions and more in finding out what really makes you happy, and that life continues despite the bumps in the road.  Some might think the ending contrived, but it provided a strong illustration of the verbal magic that good poetry provides, and a reminder that it's magic of that kind that makes life worth living.

Paterson is that kind of magic.  Certainly the best film I've seen this year.

Merry Hell, Atkinson, Southport

As in my Merry Hell review of a year ago this was the six piece 'acoustic' line up of the band, and the evening was run under the banner of Grateful Fred's.

The opening act was teenage Liverpudlian singer/songwriter Eleanor Nelly.  A powerful, gutsy voice and an outgoing personality.  Mostly her own songs which are lyrically promising, with People Like Us standing out, but lacking memorable melodies - there's nothing here to pass the old grey whistle test.  Good to see her guitar accompaniment going well beyond simple chord strumming, even if ambition still outreaches technique on occasion.  But Nelly is a promising act and could have a strong future ahead in the music business.

She was followed by the Grateful Fred house band, with the same three front men described in my earlier review, but with the addition of a drummer to give a stronger feel to the set.  Their rocking faux-Americana might not be exciting, but it's certainly enjoyable, and that's all you can ask of a local support act.

Then on to the main point of the night.  Nick Davies on bass, Neil McCartney playing fiddle, and the four Kettles up front.  Most of what I wrote in that year old review, and much of the one I wrote for the full band last July still applies.  They continue to light up a stage with their presence, the musicianship is solid if unspectacular, the vocals excellent, the songs themselves as good as ever.  There were several from their newest album and it promises to add further depth to the back catalogue they can call upon.  And politically they remain as sensibly left wing and people oriented as ever.

In my previous review of MH I ended with a single word.  Joyous.  It still applies.

Lau, Queens Hall

Do you remember the first time you heard a piece of music and wondered why it had been written just for you, so immediate and personal was the impact it made?  It's only happened to me twice, and the most recent of those was at my first Lau gig, now almost a decade ago.  Since that time the trio have grown together to become one of the leading names in the folk world, with a reputation for innovation and imagination that few can match.

No matter how often you've seen them, Lau will continue to surprise, and this home town concert was no exception.  With no support act this was a pure Lau affair.  In the first set most of the stage was screened off, and the group assembled around one omni-directional mike to deliver an acoustic set.  This was something I'd been hoping to see for the last couple of years, a stripped back performance with just the three instruments - accordion, guitar and fiddle - and Kris Drever's vocals.  It was a reminder that behind all the electronic cleverness that's become their trademark there are three exceptionally gifted musicians, steeped in traditional music and intuitively feeding off each other's abilities.  Watching them felt like falling in love again.

After the interval they returned to their now more familiar setting - a spaghetti trail of cabling linking pedal boxes, amps, mikes and some of their own wacky creations.  Only at a Lau gig will you see a fiddle being played with two bows whilst strapped to what appeared to be a remnant from a Victorian coatstand, or a window frame gone wrong turned into a strange electronic harp.  Who but Martin Green would create music by pulling on what looked like a bit of string?!

But it's the music itself that matters most and Lau continue to deliver.  Fans would recognise the tunes and songs drawn from their four studio albums, but each one had some new twist to the arrangement and/or instrumentation, and there were some intriguing segues.  Horizontigo morphing into Far From Portland was especially impressive.  And the wonderful and haunting Ghosts remains ever relevant in promoting understanding of the plight of immigrants.

In between there's plenty of humour, and they take a delight in winding each other up, but it's very clear just how much they enjoy working with and off each other.  The set ended with the trio once more coming to the fore and performing acoustically, this time to lead the hall in a rendition of Hamish Henderson's Freedom Come A' Ye.  Musically, artistically, politically, Lau remain as significant and original as ever.  As as superb a live act as any.  Simply glorious.

Blue Rose Code, Queens Hall

For Ross Wilson, aka Blue Rose Code, this was his Homecoming gig, marking his return to residence in Edinburgh after many years in London.  So no surprise that it was near enough a sell out, with many old friends in the audience.

Both halves were opened by Ryan Van Winkle, an Edinburgh based poet originating from Connecticut.  An engaging and self deprecating personality, he can raise a laugh with his introductions, but loses his audience once the actual poetry begins.  Not that he's a bad poet.  But performance poetry requires an immediacy, an ability to instantly conjure up images and situations and characters, the capacity to get the quick laugh, the brief moment of anguish, the empathetic connection.  This work felt more contemplative, the kind of verse you want to absorb slowly, words to be pondered on.  It's poetry to be read, not heard.  Although his description of a job he once had scooping up roadkill was an honourable exception.

The musical support act was Zervas and Pepper, a duo from Cardiff.  Paul Zervas and Kathryn Pepper are self confessed fans of the Laurel Canyon school of music, the soft folkrock of 60s and 70s west coast America.  More usually playing as a full six piece band, tonight it was just one guitar and their two voices.  Good voices too, with excellent harmonising, and Zervas is more than just a strummer on the six string.  Their self penned material is lyrically interesting, but melodically unmemorable.  A quick look on YouTube suggests that this would be improved with the full line up in play, but as a duo they felt more suited to an intimate folk club setting, and were just too underwhelming to convince in one of the city's major concert venues.

Which can't be said for Mr Wilson.  OK, there was the advantage of a welcoming home crowd, but he clearly has the charisma and confidence to project his music and persona into a bigger venue.  And the songs.  Much of the material is very personal, looking at past mistakes, failed relationships, but also positive about the future, and his own strong connections with his Scottish roots.  A varied mix of tempos, from contemplative to full on rocking, and an ever changing line up on stage.  Ross solo, on guitar or piano, through duo, trio and full band line up with pedal steel guitar, lead guitar, bass and piano and/or drums.  There was some added folkiness from the accordion of Blazin' Fiddles keyboard man Angus Lyons, and an all too brief appearance from innovative cellist Graham Coe of Jellyman's Daughter fame.   One thing Wilson failed to do was properly introduce, and credit, his fellow performers.  I recognised Lyons and Coe from past experience, but couldn't catch the muttered name of the excellent guitarist and don't think the pedal steel man was ever mentioned.  A shame as they were a tight and effective outfit.

For the big finale on came the massed ranks of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Contemporary choirs to add a rich gospel feel to 'Grateful', a hymn to being alive, and 'Oh North', Wilson's take on the Caledonian diaspora's longing for home.  There looked to be a few too many to fit on the stage, but their contribution was worth the cramped conditions.