Andy Cutting

Once again to the house, once again to see a musician we've seen many times before, in a variety of line ups, but never playing solo.  Andy Cutting is a squeezebox player.  In much the same way you'd say that Mark Knopfler can strum a bit.

Cutting explained why he wouldn't be singing (he's dire) and gave us an explanation as to why the two beautiful instruments he was playing, artworks in their own right, were not melodeons, despite common usage of the term.  The pedant in Andy insists they must be known as Diatonic Button Accordions.  And then he pulled up his third instrument for the night, a smaller, scruffier cousin to the other two.  This time an actual melodeon, which only has one row of ten keys for the melody.  All of which might have been quite tedious to listen to from many a performer, but Andy's charm, enthusiasm and humour are too engaging for such an outcome.

And that's part of the joy of a Cutting gig.  He's full of fascinating trivia, will tell you about the origins of the tunes, the people he's played with, places he's had musical experiences.  There's the tale of how he came to make one of those Diatonic Button Accordions (he's got me at it now), or the Swedish music workshop where the fiddlers outnumbered the box players by fifty to one.  All told in a measured, self deprecating style, with Gallic shrugs and expressions, and a way of making you feel in on the joke.

All of which is just bonus material because the focus is on the music.  English Morris, Scandinavian Polskas, Quebecois fusion, Andy brings a wide range of sources to his set list and his own tunes (which he insists he doesn't 'compose', he just 'makes them up).  Cutting is a craftsman of the variation, each melodic line subject to minor transformations that keep the simplest of themes alive.  Simple but beautiful.

A soft voice, a relaxed musical style and a gentleman.  A gentle way to spend an evening.