Opening each half we had a few songs from the well known local jazz and blues singer Lorna Reid, accompanied by blues guitarist Neil Warden. Her own compositions, including one penned jointly with the evening's main attraction, with Warden adding the musical flourishes. Reid has an excellent voice, and the songs are pleasant enough, and the final, gutsier, number, with Warden playing slide on lap steel guitar, gave a better indication of what a fine blues singer she is.
Hewerdine self mocking describes himself as a purveyor of mid-tempo balladry, a term that is accurate, but greatly undersells one of the finest songwriters around. He has a huge back catalogue of successful material to draw on, and the evening mixed classics like Dragonfly and Starlight with some more recent numbers from his new album. He has that seemingly effortless knack for marrying striking lyrics with memorable melodies which make you feel even the newer songs feel like old friends. Add in the several numbers that call for a bit of audience participation and you have a show that immediately feeling intimate and welcoming. Boo's wry humour and self deprecation/mock aggrandisement provide plenty of laughs, be it stories of his own disaster, or Eddi Reader getting lost in a Japanese shopping centre.
Fans of Eddi will know that Boo has been her close conspirator for decades, and he's written many of her most famous hits. While his voice is in no way a match for Reader's soaring vocals technically, he sings wisely to his limits in a distinctive tone that's both whispery and plaintive. It's a tribute to his singing ability that his delivery of classic Reader tracks like Patience of Angels never leaves you feeling short changed. Different, not worse.
Hewerdine is a proper entertainer and deserves much wider recognition.
Thursday 12 March 2020
Ross & Ali, Traverse
Multi-instrumentalists Ross Ainslie and Ali Hutton joined by percussionist Paul Jennings and the wonderfully talented Jenn Butterworth on guitar and vocals. Traditional musicians, traditional instruments, modern musical sensibilities. Whistles, bouzouki, tenor guitar and full fat highland bagpipes. Their music is largely self penned, but draws from other sources such as the late Martyn Bennett, and traditional tunes.
What emerges is a complex folk-rock sound that ranges from soft and lyrical to energetically rousing, especially when both sets of pipes come into play. The mix of instruments changes frequently, providing some surprising combinations at times, notable pipes and tenor guitar which turn an ancient sound into something more contemporary. This swapping around, and frequent improvising mean that even largely repetitive pieces have a constantly changing sound. Helped in no small part by the imaginative accompaniments from Butterworth and Jennings.
Jenn also contribute some weel kent songs. Her voice sounded a little strained in the first half, but normal service was later restored and she ended with a superb rendition of Hamish Henderson's Freedom Come-All-Ye. Adding to the entertainment is the banter and there were plenty of laughs, with Jennings' occasional dry asides a highlight.
Great stuff.
What emerges is a complex folk-rock sound that ranges from soft and lyrical to energetically rousing, especially when both sets of pipes come into play. The mix of instruments changes frequently, providing some surprising combinations at times, notable pipes and tenor guitar which turn an ancient sound into something more contemporary. This swapping around, and frequent improvising mean that even largely repetitive pieces have a constantly changing sound. Helped in no small part by the imaginative accompaniments from Butterworth and Jennings.
Jenn also contribute some weel kent songs. Her voice sounded a little strained in the first half, but normal service was later restored and she ended with a superb rendition of Hamish Henderson's Freedom Come-All-Ye. Adding to the entertainment is the banter and there were plenty of laughs, with Jennings' occasional dry asides a highlight.
Great stuff.
Sunday 8 March 2020
Aly Bain & Phil Cunningham, St Mary's Cathedral
The tickets say "Aly Bain & Phil Cunningham", but to millions they're just "Phil and Aly", icons of the Scottish folk scene. They've been performing and recording together for more than three decades, but this concert was a bit special. Less than a year ago Bain, now into his seventies, had triple bypass surgery. While his musical progress since then has been well documented on social media, and the duo have recently been busy recording a new album, this marked Aly's return to live performance in front of a large audience.
That meant less of the fast stuff we've been used to in the past, but there's been no fall in the level of artistry, and Aly's fingers still dance mesmerisingly across the strings. The style is very much from the tradition - there's little of the kind of fiery experimentation you'd see from the likes of Ross Couper - but it's the mastery of that style that shines out, the subtle improvisations and the intuitive communication between fiddler and accordionist. Old tunes from Scotland and Shetland and Canada and Sweden, modern compositions for all over the place, many of them by the guys themselves. Cunningham in particular has written so many stunningly beautiful melodies over the years and it was a request for one of those, The Gentle Light That Wakes me, that closed out the night.
It's not just the music that made this special. Cunningham is famous for his anecdotes (although admitting he'd cleaned up a lot of them given the surroundings!) and Bain for his dry interjections. Together they are one of the funniest comedy double acts around, and the audience's grins are brought on by laughter as much as musical enjoyment. What's lovely to see is that, even after so long working together, they clearly make each other laugh too.
Wonderful acoustics, superb music and a lot of laughs. Pretty much the perfect evening.
That meant less of the fast stuff we've been used to in the past, but there's been no fall in the level of artistry, and Aly's fingers still dance mesmerisingly across the strings. The style is very much from the tradition - there's little of the kind of fiery experimentation you'd see from the likes of Ross Couper - but it's the mastery of that style that shines out, the subtle improvisations and the intuitive communication between fiddler and accordionist. Old tunes from Scotland and Shetland and Canada and Sweden, modern compositions for all over the place, many of them by the guys themselves. Cunningham in particular has written so many stunningly beautiful melodies over the years and it was a request for one of those, The Gentle Light That Wakes me, that closed out the night.
It's not just the music that made this special. Cunningham is famous for his anecdotes (although admitting he'd cleaned up a lot of them given the surroundings!) and Bain for his dry interjections. Together they are one of the funniest comedy double acts around, and the audience's grins are brought on by laughter as much as musical enjoyment. What's lovely to see is that, even after so long working together, they clearly make each other laugh too.
Wonderful acoustics, superb music and a lot of laughs. Pretty much the perfect evening.
Thursday 5 March 2020
1917
"Suspension of disbelief"
'The temporary acceptance as believable of events or characters that would ordinarily be seen as incredible. This is usually to allow an audience to appreciate works of literature or drama that are exploring unusual ideas'. (Phrases.org)
Corporals Schofield (George Mackay) and Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) are summoned from a brief respite in the sun to see the general. He needs a message taken urgently to a unit which has orders to attack the Germans at dawn, assuming the enemy are retreating, but now there's new intelligence showing it's all a trap. If the attack goes ahead 1600 men will be massacred, including Blake's brother.
The young soldiers are told there are no Germans between their start point and the colonel they are seeking, but, as the more world weary Schofield points out, if that's true then which have they been given grenades to take with them? He proposes caution and not leaving until dusk. But Blake is insistent. His brother is one of the 1600 and for him it's personal.
They set off across a muddy, cratered, body strewn, desolate landscape, soon filthy, always afraid. The German trenches they come to are empty (and far better equipped than their own hovels), but still dangerous. The mission quickly runs into a string of obstacles and incidents that slow them down, and eventually result in Schofield having to complete the mission on his own. And things get more and more difficult from there. Fights, falls, explosions and an unanticipated swimming session. A baby. And rats. Lots of rats.
It's stunningly filmed, long single shots following our protagonists through every agonising moment, the experience up close and personal. Some heavy handed strings as they entered the first line of German trenches suggested the soundtrack might prove intrusive, but from then on it's the perfect accompaniment, helping to ramp up the tension and enhancing the often spectacular images.
Mackay carries the bulk of the movie and he's superb. His Schofield is hardened, determined, compassionate and partly dead inside. He'll be a star for decades to come.
There are several weel kent faces popping up in cameo roles, the best by far being Andrew Scott's wonderfully cynical lieutenant showing them where the lads can get out through the barbed wire, telling them to go past the dead horses, with the bonus that the stench will guide them back if they get into trouble.
But I return to my opening paragraph. A film that goes to such lengths to accurately portray the horrors of war surely lives and dies by maintaining the viewer's belief in that reality. By the final 15 minutes I was having doubts. Would one man really experience, let alone survive, so many calamities in such a short period (the film only covers about 14 or 15 hours of real time)? When a man who's emerged sopping wet from a tumultuous river experience is able to hand over a bone dry envelope, complete with entirely legible letter inside, all credibility was gone. My disbelief had been unsuspended.
And that's a shame, for this film has so much going for it - performances, cinematography, music, atmosphere - that I wanted to like it, but came away disappointed. Maybe I'm too much like Andrew Scott's lieutenant?
'The temporary acceptance as believable of events or characters that would ordinarily be seen as incredible. This is usually to allow an audience to appreciate works of literature or drama that are exploring unusual ideas'. (Phrases.org)
Corporals Schofield (George Mackay) and Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) are summoned from a brief respite in the sun to see the general. He needs a message taken urgently to a unit which has orders to attack the Germans at dawn, assuming the enemy are retreating, but now there's new intelligence showing it's all a trap. If the attack goes ahead 1600 men will be massacred, including Blake's brother.
The young soldiers are told there are no Germans between their start point and the colonel they are seeking, but, as the more world weary Schofield points out, if that's true then which have they been given grenades to take with them? He proposes caution and not leaving until dusk. But Blake is insistent. His brother is one of the 1600 and for him it's personal.
They set off across a muddy, cratered, body strewn, desolate landscape, soon filthy, always afraid. The German trenches they come to are empty (and far better equipped than their own hovels), but still dangerous. The mission quickly runs into a string of obstacles and incidents that slow them down, and eventually result in Schofield having to complete the mission on his own. And things get more and more difficult from there. Fights, falls, explosions and an unanticipated swimming session. A baby. And rats. Lots of rats.
It's stunningly filmed, long single shots following our protagonists through every agonising moment, the experience up close and personal. Some heavy handed strings as they entered the first line of German trenches suggested the soundtrack might prove intrusive, but from then on it's the perfect accompaniment, helping to ramp up the tension and enhancing the often spectacular images.
Mackay carries the bulk of the movie and he's superb. His Schofield is hardened, determined, compassionate and partly dead inside. He'll be a star for decades to come.
There are several weel kent faces popping up in cameo roles, the best by far being Andrew Scott's wonderfully cynical lieutenant showing them where the lads can get out through the barbed wire, telling them to go past the dead horses, with the bonus that the stench will guide them back if they get into trouble.
But I return to my opening paragraph. A film that goes to such lengths to accurately portray the horrors of war surely lives and dies by maintaining the viewer's belief in that reality. By the final 15 minutes I was having doubts. Would one man really experience, let alone survive, so many calamities in such a short period (the film only covers about 14 or 15 hours of real time)? When a man who's emerged sopping wet from a tumultuous river experience is able to hand over a bone dry envelope, complete with entirely legible letter inside, all credibility was gone. My disbelief had been unsuspended.
And that's a shame, for this film has so much going for it - performances, cinematography, music, atmosphere - that I wanted to like it, but came away disappointed. Maybe I'm too much like Andrew Scott's lieutenant?
Friday 28 February 2020
The Jellyman's Daughter, The Caves
Angus Munro opened the night to a packed out cave. Bristling with confidence, he and his keyboard launched into a series of bright pop songs that had a bit too much of a hint of manilow for my tastes, but you couldn't fault his enthusiasm or commitment to ensure we were all having a good time. A fun opener, but not memorable.
The duo Jellyman were doubled in size with the addition of Jamie Francis on banjo and Herbie Loening on double bass. We've been watching them for several years now and all that early promise is rapidly being fulfilled. Graham Coe and Emily Kelly have developed their own eclectic sound and style, mixing largely self penned material with a few surprising and imaginative covers. While both sing and play, it's Kelly's gutsy vocals and Coe's driving, chopping cello that most strongly identify the Jellyman's signature. They are also a much more assured stage presence, witty, self deprecating, more confident in their craft.
With two excellent albums behind them, and the new EP for which this was the launch gig (I bought it and it offers further development of the duo's unique identity) there's a good fund of material to draw on, and this was a well balanced set, slow and fast, new and familiar. There is nobody else quite like them.
The duo Jellyman were doubled in size with the addition of Jamie Francis on banjo and Herbie Loening on double bass. We've been watching them for several years now and all that early promise is rapidly being fulfilled. Graham Coe and Emily Kelly have developed their own eclectic sound and style, mixing largely self penned material with a few surprising and imaginative covers. While both sing and play, it's Kelly's gutsy vocals and Coe's driving, chopping cello that most strongly identify the Jellyman's signature. They are also a much more assured stage presence, witty, self deprecating, more confident in their craft.
With two excellent albums behind them, and the new EP for which this was the launch gig (I bought it and it offers further development of the duo's unique identity) there's a good fund of material to draw on, and this was a well balanced set, slow and fast, new and familiar. There is nobody else quite like them.
The Orcadians of Hudson' Bay, Assynt, The Mitchell, Celtic Connections
Young trio Assynt opened the show. Fiddle, guitar and mandolin, whistles and full fat Highland bagpipes. The tunes are mostly self penned, but firmly routed in the tradition and many sound as if they could have been around for hundreds of years. The slower numbers are sensitively played, but it's the fast stuff that gets the crowd going, with David Shedden's pipes rousing the passions and bringing the greatest response from the audience. They've got a bit of stage presence too, with the odd amusing anecdote. Great entertainment.
The Orcadians of Hudson's Bay is a project put together by Gnoss fiddler Graham Rorie (and nice to see his fellow Gnossers in the audience to lend him their support) to highlight, in music, how great a contribution the people of Orkney made to the running and success of the famous Canadian trading company - and the impact that had on the islands themselves. To this end he has undertaken a lot of research on the subject, written tunes inspired by his reading, and assembled, with the help of the Celtic Connections organisers, a top notch line up of traditional musicians to perform it with him. Kristan Harvey, Pàdruig Morrison, Rory Matheson, Signy Jakobsdottir and James Lindsay, plus a cameo performance from those magnificent Canadians from le Vent du Nord.
The result is a mix of tales and facts from history, music that takes it's key from both sides of the Atlantic, and a performance that is both lyrical and informative. Who knew that, in the early 19th century, around 80% of Hudson's Bay employees came from that small island group? Rorie's tales brought the subject alive, and the music impressed, if somewhat sedately. That's never a term associated with LVdN, and their contribution enlivened proceedings.
An interesting experiment, and one that deserves future hearings.
The Orcadians of Hudson's Bay is a project put together by Gnoss fiddler Graham Rorie (and nice to see his fellow Gnossers in the audience to lend him their support) to highlight, in music, how great a contribution the people of Orkney made to the running and success of the famous Canadian trading company - and the impact that had on the islands themselves. To this end he has undertaken a lot of research on the subject, written tunes inspired by his reading, and assembled, with the help of the Celtic Connections organisers, a top notch line up of traditional musicians to perform it with him. Kristan Harvey, Pàdruig Morrison, Rory Matheson, Signy Jakobsdottir and James Lindsay, plus a cameo performance from those magnificent Canadians from le Vent du Nord.
The result is a mix of tales and facts from history, music that takes it's key from both sides of the Atlantic, and a performance that is both lyrical and informative. Who knew that, in the early 19th century, around 80% of Hudson's Bay employees came from that small island group? Rorie's tales brought the subject alive, and the music impressed, if somewhat sedately. That's never a term associated with LVdN, and their contribution enlivened proceedings.
An interesting experiment, and one that deserves future hearings.
Wednesday 26 February 2020
Della Mae, Teilhard Frost, Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, Celtic Connections
Canadian Frost is better known to Scottish audiences as one third of Sheesham & Lotus & Son, but his solo performance contains the same primary elements. A passionate devotion to recreating the sounds of old-time American music, recounting the history of the tunes he's playing. and a lot of humour - even when playing. Fiddle, harmonica, percussion, kazoo, a strong tenor voice combine to bring to life ragtimes, blues, jazz and folk in an eclectic package. Unexpected twists, funny lyrics and Frost's own brand of showmanship kept the audience engrossed, and he received strong acclaim for an excellent set.
Della Mae are a five piece, all-female, Nashville-based band with bluegrass roots but a wide range of influences. Guitars, fiddle, mandolin, washboard and double bass. While both bassist and mandolin player take a turn at singing songs, most of the lead vocals fall to the good-time voice of Celia Woodsmith who gets more Joplinesque the rockier the numbers become. The songs are mostly self penned, and the lyrics interesting, catchy. While there are a few slower numbers for the most part the tempo is rocking, the beat foot tapping, and the solos from fiddle, mandolin and guitar sparkling. Decent bass solo too. They're engaging personalities, there's a lot of smiles and joy in their playing, and that transmits well to the rest of the room. Great stuff and a lot of fun.
Della Mae are a five piece, all-female, Nashville-based band with bluegrass roots but a wide range of influences. Guitars, fiddle, mandolin, washboard and double bass. While both bassist and mandolin player take a turn at singing songs, most of the lead vocals fall to the good-time voice of Celia Woodsmith who gets more Joplinesque the rockier the numbers become. The songs are mostly self penned, and the lyrics interesting, catchy. While there are a few slower numbers for the most part the tempo is rocking, the beat foot tapping, and the solos from fiddle, mandolin and guitar sparkling. Decent bass solo too. They're engaging personalities, there's a lot of smiles and joy in their playing, and that transmits well to the rest of the room. Great stuff and a lot of fun.
Tuesday 25 February 2020
Ross Couper & Tom Oakes, Duo Ruut, Luke Daniels and Rihab Azar, Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, Celtic Connections
A concert featuring three very different acoustic duos, from very different cultures. Something for everyone or an incongruous mish-mash?
First up was Irish guitarist Luke Daniels accompanying young Syrian oud virtuoso Rihab Azar. The tunes came from all over the Middle East and North Africa, plus the challenge of a set of Irish jigs , Daniels' home territory. The rhythms might be different from what we're used to, but the delicacy and speed of the playing draws the listener in and it quickly feels natural to be tapping the feet to a different beat. Plenty of interesting background information too, with Daniels an accomplished raconteur and Azar often amusing in her charmingly accented English. A lovely experience to start the evening.
From Estonia came Duo Ruut. Two women, one instrument. The instrument in question being a Kannel, an Estonian variant of the zither family. Normally played by one person, the two friends picked one up and, without anyone to teach them, developed their own style of playing. This resulted in a unique style, both musically and visually. They play the kannel in a variety of ways, strumming, plucking, bowing and percussively. And they sit facing one another, side on to the audience, the box balanced on their knees, the pushmi-pullyu of musical acts. Add in ethereal singing and sensibilities steep in Baltic folk music, and you have a very unusual sound. Plaintive, eerie, ghostly, romantic, surprising. At times a little repetitive, and I'd have liked to have heard them using more vocal harmonies, but frequently surprising and they never lost the listener's interest. Oh, and they laugh. A lot. Impossible to dislike.
And finally the headline act, Ross Couper and Tom Oakes, fiddler and guitarist, bringing their Shetland and Devonian backgrounds, mixing them up with Scots and Irish influences, and then playing the hell out of the resulting tunes. If you want to sum up the two men in two words then Funny and Fast would do well. Lots of laughs, and well capable of playing the slow sensitive stuff, but renowned for the fireworks and sweat playing that brings wild grins to everyone in the room. Outstanding.
So to my answer my earlier question - yes, definitely something for everyone, and a learning as well as a musical event.
First up was Irish guitarist Luke Daniels accompanying young Syrian oud virtuoso Rihab Azar. The tunes came from all over the Middle East and North Africa, plus the challenge of a set of Irish jigs , Daniels' home territory. The rhythms might be different from what we're used to, but the delicacy and speed of the playing draws the listener in and it quickly feels natural to be tapping the feet to a different beat. Plenty of interesting background information too, with Daniels an accomplished raconteur and Azar often amusing in her charmingly accented English. A lovely experience to start the evening.
From Estonia came Duo Ruut. Two women, one instrument. The instrument in question being a Kannel, an Estonian variant of the zither family. Normally played by one person, the two friends picked one up and, without anyone to teach them, developed their own style of playing. This resulted in a unique style, both musically and visually. They play the kannel in a variety of ways, strumming, plucking, bowing and percussively. And they sit facing one another, side on to the audience, the box balanced on their knees, the pushmi-pullyu of musical acts. Add in ethereal singing and sensibilities steep in Baltic folk music, and you have a very unusual sound. Plaintive, eerie, ghostly, romantic, surprising. At times a little repetitive, and I'd have liked to have heard them using more vocal harmonies, but frequently surprising and they never lost the listener's interest. Oh, and they laugh. A lot. Impossible to dislike.
And finally the headline act, Ross Couper and Tom Oakes, fiddler and guitarist, bringing their Shetland and Devonian backgrounds, mixing them up with Scots and Irish influences, and then playing the hell out of the resulting tunes. If you want to sum up the two men in two words then Funny and Fast would do well. Lots of laughs, and well capable of playing the slow sensitive stuff, but renowned for the fireworks and sweat playing that brings wild grins to everyone in the room. Outstanding.
So to my answer my earlier question - yes, definitely something for everyone, and a learning as well as a musical event.
Monday 27 January 2020
Rachel Sermanni, Chris Stout & Catriona Mackay, Assembly Rooms, Burns & Beyond
Poet Nadine Aisha Jassat was on MC duties and opened with one of her own quaintly sensitive verses, before introducing Stout and Mackay to the stage. The fiddle and harp duo have deep folk roots, but a very modern musical sensibility, with strong jazz influences in their eclectic compositions. Fast flowing, often gentle, occasionally discordant as each went their own way and returned into harmony, frequently foot tapping. Very enjoyable..
Another poem from Jassat and Sermanni took her place before the mike. As cookie as ever, Rachel marked the Burns nater of the night with her own delicately phrased version of Ae Fond Kiss, following up with her own material. Eccentric introductions, an ethereal voice, smart guitar accompaniment and constantly fascinating lyrics, Sermanni is a distinctive and individual folk/pop voice that deserves a wider audience. She ended the show by inviting Jassat back on stage for a joint piece of guitar, song and spoken word, a beautifully sensitive end to the show.
Another poem from Jassat and Sermanni took her place before the mike. As cookie as ever, Rachel marked the Burns nater of the night with her own delicately phrased version of Ae Fond Kiss, following up with her own material. Eccentric introductions, an ethereal voice, smart guitar accompaniment and constantly fascinating lyrics, Sermanni is a distinctive and individual folk/pop voice that deserves a wider audience. She ended the show by inviting Jassat back on stage for a joint piece of guitar, song and spoken word, a beautifully sensitive end to the show.
Sunday 26 January 2020
Lau Unplugged, Kings Place, London
A gig being run as part of Kings Place's Nature Unwrapped series, and no surprise that Lau were one of the chosen acts, given the number of their tunes that have been inspired by a sense of place.
It also meant an unusual support act, sonic but not musical. Chris Watson, artist in residence at KP, had made nighttime recordings of a beach on The Wash, in eastern England, and compressed them into a 25 minute sound sequence. He spent 10 minutes explaining what we were about to hear - thousands upon thousands of birds feeding on a fast diminishing beach as the tide came in leading to their sudden mass departure - and left us to it, lights dimmed to stimulate the aural presence. An interesting experience, both relaxing and almost scary at times. It's probably just me being weird, and a reflection of having watched way too many Scandinoir dramas, but I kept thinking of being trapped in a dark basement and having to work out where I was from the sounds outside! And don't get me started on Hitchcock movies...
'Lau Unplugged' suggests a return to a decade ago, when the trio first appeared with just the basics of accordion, fiddle, guitar and Drever's voice. But this is Lau and there's no looking back, they are always looking to progress and advance, both musically and performance wise. While those acoustic basics were there, they were augmented by a light sprinkling of electronica ("almost unplugged" as Martin put it), and have added a whole new dimension to their performance. More of which in a moment.
Anyone who has read these pages in the past will know I am a near-evangelical Lau fan, as evidenced in posts like this and this and this and this amongst others. So can we take it as read that the standard of musicianship and singing and arrangements and musical imagination is as high as ever? The opening number swiftly established all that, with empathetic ensemble playing where the melody constantly switched from instrument to instrument. Because I want to concentrate on what makes this show different to all their previous efforts.
There's always been a visual element to Lau. In the earliest days it was mostly concern for Martin Green as, in his more excitable moments, it appeared increasingly likely that he and chair were going to part company. The introduction of various electronic gadgets brought movement of a different kind as they tended to demands of these new friends, culminating in Macbeth's witches gathering round the sonic cauldron they named Morag. And then there have been acoustic sets with all three gathered around one mike.
To 'visual' we must now add 'theatrical'. After some shorter opening numbers the band launched into what turned into a continuous piece of almost 45 minutes, working through identifiable fragments from the back catalogue and into newer material. In doing so they made full use of the stage, moving from the seats on the raised platform into all corners, moving mike stands, tending to the giant cassette player and full of surprises. There was a wonderful comedy sequence involving 2 arm-waving musicians, 3 mikes and 4 gadgets made from coffee cups held together by gaffer tape. Chaplin would have been proud. A stunning achievement.
To end the show the band invited Watson back on to join them. He played a recording of the natural sounds of the Cromarty landscape as background to Gallowhill, one of Lau's oldest tunes. Hauntingly beautiful.
And after that there's only one question - what's next?
It also meant an unusual support act, sonic but not musical. Chris Watson, artist in residence at KP, had made nighttime recordings of a beach on The Wash, in eastern England, and compressed them into a 25 minute sound sequence. He spent 10 minutes explaining what we were about to hear - thousands upon thousands of birds feeding on a fast diminishing beach as the tide came in leading to their sudden mass departure - and left us to it, lights dimmed to stimulate the aural presence. An interesting experience, both relaxing and almost scary at times. It's probably just me being weird, and a reflection of having watched way too many Scandinoir dramas, but I kept thinking of being trapped in a dark basement and having to work out where I was from the sounds outside! And don't get me started on Hitchcock movies...
'Lau Unplugged' suggests a return to a decade ago, when the trio first appeared with just the basics of accordion, fiddle, guitar and Drever's voice. But this is Lau and there's no looking back, they are always looking to progress and advance, both musically and performance wise. While those acoustic basics were there, they were augmented by a light sprinkling of electronica ("almost unplugged" as Martin put it), and have added a whole new dimension to their performance. More of which in a moment.
Anyone who has read these pages in the past will know I am a near-evangelical Lau fan, as evidenced in posts like this and this and this and this amongst others. So can we take it as read that the standard of musicianship and singing and arrangements and musical imagination is as high as ever? The opening number swiftly established all that, with empathetic ensemble playing where the melody constantly switched from instrument to instrument. Because I want to concentrate on what makes this show different to all their previous efforts.
There's always been a visual element to Lau. In the earliest days it was mostly concern for Martin Green as, in his more excitable moments, it appeared increasingly likely that he and chair were going to part company. The introduction of various electronic gadgets brought movement of a different kind as they tended to demands of these new friends, culminating in Macbeth's witches gathering round the sonic cauldron they named Morag. And then there have been acoustic sets with all three gathered around one mike.
To 'visual' we must now add 'theatrical'. After some shorter opening numbers the band launched into what turned into a continuous piece of almost 45 minutes, working through identifiable fragments from the back catalogue and into newer material. In doing so they made full use of the stage, moving from the seats on the raised platform into all corners, moving mike stands, tending to the giant cassette player and full of surprises. There was a wonderful comedy sequence involving 2 arm-waving musicians, 3 mikes and 4 gadgets made from coffee cups held together by gaffer tape. Chaplin would have been proud. A stunning achievement.
To end the show the band invited Watson back on to join them. He played a recording of the natural sounds of the Cromarty landscape as background to Gallowhill, one of Lau's oldest tunes. Hauntingly beautiful.
And after that there's only one question - what's next?
Thursday 16 January 2020
Christy Moore, Vicar Street, Dublin
Ireland's Greatest Living Musician (as voted for in 2007, and what's changed since?) and an expectant, knowledgeable home crowd, a recipe for a special occasion. 74 years old and showing little sign of slowing down, Moore was onstage without a break for 2 hours and sounding as strong and passionate as ever. He was accompanied by regular co-conspirator and strings virtuoso Declan Sinnot, who worked his way through a shelf load of guitars, plus a guy on fiddle, banjo and mandolin, a percussionist and a backing singer. Together they worked their way through a host of Moore favourites, with some newer material thrown in.
It was straight into the singing for the first three numbers, but none of the oldies he sang needed any introduction to this sold out audience. When he did start talking it was with all the old fluency, thought, humour and political conviction, while also demonstrating an effective line in putting down the odd drunken heckler. And it was good to hear an outsider looking in at the blind stupidity of brexhshit.
Sinnott has long been one of Ireland's greatest ever guitarists, and his clever accompaniments and fluid solos complement the stolidity of Moore's approach. The rest of the band were a solid match, including some fiery banjo playing. They were joined by the 'choir' on many of the choruses, invited or otherwise. This was a room full of dedicated Moore fans and he would never get away with missing out Lisdoonvarna.
Rousing stuff, funny, engaging, involving, Moore remains one of the great live acts of the folk world.
Monday 6 January 2020
Edidi Reader, Old Dr Bells Baths
A strange experience personally, going to a gig in the place where I first learned to swim (many, many decades ago...), but they've done a good job of converting the building into an interesting and characterful venue.
Two support acts tonight, both singer/songwriters offering very different approaches to the craft. Wullie Douglas was full of energy, with a decent enough voice and guitar work, clever lyrics and imaginative arrangements. It's a shame he didn't talk more as it would have been interesting to learn something of the background to his material, but he proved a good warm up. Mixed up the tempoes from gentle ballad to something much rockier, some amusing songs (The Loneliest Guy in the World stood out), and a bit of call and response to get the audience involved. An excellent start to the evening.
He was followed by Aaron Wright who had a more distinctive vocal style, but poor diction which made it hard to grasp what the songs were about, and as he too didn't provide much by way of introductions it's not easy to say what they were about. Nice variety of styles, from folk to blues, and smart guitar arrangements. Amusing pleasant, he could do well as a Lewis Capaldi type.
But the sell out crowd was there to see one woman, and her excellent band. Eddi remains a one-off, an eccentric and often hilarious communicator, passionate about her beliefs, an uninhibited mover, unstructured and unpredictable, and possessed of a voice of soaring abilities which she uses in her own unique phrasing. The band line up is the one she's had backing her for several years now, with a mix of folk and pop backgrounds and influences. Accordion, guitars, ukulele, double bass and the excellent Steph Geremia on flute, whistles and vocals (including taking the lead on one number).
Mostly well known material, singalong at times, with a few new numbers thrown into the mix, and the talismanic Perfect to end on. There's no new ground being broken, and there's no need for it. Reader is as near perfect as she needs to be.
Two support acts tonight, both singer/songwriters offering very different approaches to the craft. Wullie Douglas was full of energy, with a decent enough voice and guitar work, clever lyrics and imaginative arrangements. It's a shame he didn't talk more as it would have been interesting to learn something of the background to his material, but he proved a good warm up. Mixed up the tempoes from gentle ballad to something much rockier, some amusing songs (The Loneliest Guy in the World stood out), and a bit of call and response to get the audience involved. An excellent start to the evening.
He was followed by Aaron Wright who had a more distinctive vocal style, but poor diction which made it hard to grasp what the songs were about, and as he too didn't provide much by way of introductions it's not easy to say what they were about. Nice variety of styles, from folk to blues, and smart guitar arrangements. Amusing pleasant, he could do well as a Lewis Capaldi type.
But the sell out crowd was there to see one woman, and her excellent band. Eddi remains a one-off, an eccentric and often hilarious communicator, passionate about her beliefs, an uninhibited mover, unstructured and unpredictable, and possessed of a voice of soaring abilities which she uses in her own unique phrasing. The band line up is the one she's had backing her for several years now, with a mix of folk and pop backgrounds and influences. Accordion, guitars, ukulele, double bass and the excellent Steph Geremia on flute, whistles and vocals (including taking the lead on one number).
Mostly well known material, singalong at times, with a few new numbers thrown into the mix, and the talismanic Perfect to end on. There's no new ground being broken, and there's no need for it. Reader is as near perfect as she needs to be.
Sunday 5 January 2020
Dean Owens and the Southerners, Traverse
Owens now traditional end of year gig in the Traverse, complete with traditional sell out crowd. This year he was accompanied by the Southerners, with Jim Maving on guitar and mandolin and Tom Collison on keyboard and electric bass (sometimes both at once, most impressive!). They were joined for a few numbers by one of Dean's regular partners, Amy Geddes fiddling as fine as ever and adding her excellent vocal talents.
While the set list was packed with many of Owens' best known material there was also some more recent material from his Buffalo Blood collaboration (giving Dean a chance to show what a fine whistler he is) and an excellent interpretation of a Gerry Rafferty classic. Vocally he remains as interesting as ever, proves himself to be a good storyteller between numbers, and has a laugh with his home crowd. The night ended with the crowd joining him in Raining in Glasgow to close an evening that could easily have gone on another hour. Roll on next December.
Persona Non Grata, French Film Festival, Dominion
Fortyish and frustrated in their ambitions, José (Nicolas Duvauchelle) and Maxime (Raphaël Personnaz) hire Moise (Roschdy Zem) to kill their boss Eddy so they can take over the company and live the lives they feel entitled to. Pay the murder off and they have the control they desire and an easy life ahead of them.
Except that, unfamiliar with the criminal world, they have grossly underestimated Moise's intelligence and abilities. When he starts turning up at their offices and ordering people about there's not a lot the guilty pair are able to do about it. With Moise dating, and manipulating, Eddy's teenage daughter the situation gets ever more complicated and the efforts of José and Maxime to buy off the hitman only dig them into an increasingly deeper hole. Something has to give...
Zem also directed and it's his character who is the most interesting and convincing. He's callous, violent and evil, but in such an open manner that he's almost likeable. Certainly more than the hapless and twisted couple who hired him, and don't always feel like three dimensional characters. However the tension is well constructed, scene by scene, with some oddball comedy thrown in for light relief (Moise gets his patsies to finance the career of an appallingly bad rapper at one point), and it's enjoyable in a predictable way. PNG is no classic, but has enough in it to provide an entertaining ninety minutes.
Except that, unfamiliar with the criminal world, they have grossly underestimated Moise's intelligence and abilities. When he starts turning up at their offices and ordering people about there's not a lot the guilty pair are able to do about it. With Moise dating, and manipulating, Eddy's teenage daughter the situation gets ever more complicated and the efforts of José and Maxime to buy off the hitman only dig them into an increasingly deeper hole. Something has to give...
Zem also directed and it's his character who is the most interesting and convincing. He's callous, violent and evil, but in such an open manner that he's almost likeable. Certainly more than the hapless and twisted couple who hired him, and don't always feel like three dimensional characters. However the tension is well constructed, scene by scene, with some oddball comedy thrown in for light relief (Moise gets his patsies to finance the career of an appallingly bad rapper at one point), and it's enjoyable in a predictable way. PNG is no classic, but has enough in it to provide an entertaining ninety minutes.
Wednesday 1 January 2020
Le Brio, French Film Festival, Dominion
Neila (Caméla Jordana) is young working class Arab woman who sees gaining a law degree as her way out of the depressing Paris suburb she's being brought up in. But her first day at university is ruined when Professor Mazard (Daniel Auteuil) publicly attacks her in racist, misogynistic rant. He finds himself in trouble with his boss when a video of the incident goes viral. To make amends he must find a way of building a relationship with Neila to prove he's not the racist the world sees him as (even though he is), so he ingratiates himself to give her training in rhetoric and become a competitive debater.
The storyline is largely predictable - she takes time to adapt to his 'tough love' methods of tuition, but comes to respect him and becomes the university's star debater. When she finds out about Mazard's motivation for taking her on they fall out, but a form of reconciliation brings closure. A familiar tale, but the dialogue, acting and chemistry between the two leads makes this a far better movie than the above suggests. Mazard's methods offer plenty of opportunity for comedy, there are some interesting sub plots going on. Although the ending is a bit too-good-to-be-true the characters remain honest. Neila knows that their friendship is superficial and Auteuil does a wonderful job of ensuring Mazard stays unlikable - he'll always be a bit of a prick.
The storyline is largely predictable - she takes time to adapt to his 'tough love' methods of tuition, but comes to respect him and becomes the university's star debater. When she finds out about Mazard's motivation for taking her on they fall out, but a form of reconciliation brings closure. A familiar tale, but the dialogue, acting and chemistry between the two leads makes this a far better movie than the above suggests. Mazard's methods offer plenty of opportunity for comedy, there are some interesting sub plots going on. Although the ending is a bit too-good-to-be-true the characters remain honest. Neila knows that their friendship is superficial and Auteuil does a wonderful job of ensuring Mazard stays unlikable - he'll always be a bit of a prick.
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