Police Dog Hogan, Glasshouse, Gateshead

 It had been well over a decade since we first saw PDH.  There had been tickets bought since, but going unsiued due to force majeure (heavy snow in one case, covid in another).  So this was eagerly anticipated, and I wonderted what changes there would have been.  

A different line up for a start, with only three of the original group still there, and acting as the front men of the band.  James Studholme (guitar and lead vocals), Tim Dowling (banjo, electric guitar, backing vocals and occasional lead vocalist) and Eddie Bishop (fiddle and mandolin, and backing vocals) have been there since the beginning, and have developed over the years into slick entertainers, as well as much improved in the musicianship.  They have been joined by Shahen Galichian on keyboards and accordion, Don Bowen on bass guitar and Alistair Hamer on drums, with all of this trio also adding to the vocals.

I recalled, from that long ago gig, that PDH were competent musicians, who played within their limits, wrote excellent songs with memorable lyrics, and were good entertainers.  Much of that description still applies.  But they are even more entertaining, with some slick comedy built into the act.  The musical abilites have improved with time, so that their limits are higher than before.  Galichian adds another level, as the standout talent of the line up.  And the songs lyrics remain of a high standard.  Fummy, sad, ruminative, with clever structures and rhymes.  The melodies are decent too.

The style is derive from country, bluegrass and folk, with a West Country twist here and there.  A very Englsih form of Ameicana.  Studholme sings well.  Not the greatest voice technically, but distinctive, characterful, with imaginative phrasing.  Dowling impressed with his songs too.  

There was a good mix of the familiar, including the nearest they've had to 'hits' (Shitty White Wine and West Country Boy), and newer material.  Regular changes in tempo and sentiment and themes kept it all feeling fresh.  From the whimsical, like returning to Devon on the A303, to the melancholy, with reflections of the death of fathers.

I hope it isn't another decade before I see them again.