Rob Sproul-Cran, Nyk Stoddart, Ian Sclater, Aaron Lowen Berger, LindsaySugden, Jym Ponter, Ghostboy, Daniel Vzeu, Ross Neilson, Eddie and Chris(debut), Aaron Wright & Alan Ross, Hannah O’Reilly.

World’s End Pi$$-Up, 10/1/08.David O’Hara, Kevin O’Rourke, Kev’s mate Sam, Bill Philip, Freeloadin’ Frank, Scott Renton, Hannah O’Reilly and her husband Ben.

Another great session from some of the finest wits in the unamplified Edinburgh drinking scene, and topics such as Beethoven, poker and Presbyterianism had the pub ringing to the throng of heartily raised voices and occasionally strong opinions. Magnificent- it must have gone on for nearly forty minutes. Some people even took their coats off. Apologies from Rob Sproul-Cran, who was strangely ‘aff the drink’.

Immediately prior to this, some of the assembled went to the Canons’ Gait for an evening of musical interruption to their drinking. Sproul-Cran was there, hosting the sesh, and even showing the massed alkies how to kickoff any such gathering, with his well known lilt, You Should Be Mine. I Stupidly referred to Rob as ‘the King of Falsetto’ at The Blue Blazer last week- which, compared to myself, is a moniker attributable to 99% of the population.

Anyway,the 3 song sets got under way with Nyk Stoddart taking to the stage in his new Pete Doherty-esque trilby. Assuming this is as far as the impression goes, and that he’s not got a harem of supermodels listening to Chas N Dave in his flat, it was with an open mind that we listened to Radiohead parody TV Leg (‘picking at scabs on my arms?!), the sparse telling-off of a pi$$ed-off lover (Don’t Try), and his current crowd-pleaser, Scarecrow Man, where he compares himself to Elmore James,and ‘brings it on home to you’. As ever, intense, but Nyk demands, and gets, the full attention of the room.

Ian Sclater also keeps the crowd watchful- I notice Ian has a distinctive’stare’ when he sings, he looks right at each member of the audience (even if to him it’s all the red blur of the Amsterdam light that currently flavours the stage!), and exhibits a real ‘up and at ’em’ approach to performing. The songs tonight, Isabella (the well-kent tale of falling in love in/with a Spanish town), Talk To Somebody (free counseling for anyone that needs it), and Emerald City (‘somebody’s making a killing out of you’, about the green zone, and exploitation within the rebuilding in Iraq) are uncomplicated, punchy, memorable singalongs.

I’d not seen Aaron Lowenberger before, but had heard a lot of good things(eg tonight he was introduced as the ‘sh!t hot’ Aaron Lowen Berger). This New Jersey Dado Prso-lookalike doesn’t disappoint, giving us an excellent Bert Jansch-y instrumental. Just the one song tonight, but he’ll be doing the featured slot on January 31st, so a real chance to show the masses what he can do looms.

One person whose abilities we know all about is Lindsay Sugden. The Publicity Officer and T-Shirt Designer gave us three that she’s playing a lot just now: that one about ‘let me see an epiphany’, Beyond These Walls,and the song that I believe is called Time Stands Still. Ably supported by Karen ‘Indigo Rose’ Austin on glock and vocals, the combination of wispy lyrics on abstract matters, the parallel existence vocal (akin to Philadelphia band Espers), and wonderfully complex tunes and structures,are a winner as usual.

Nice to see Jym Ponter back on the OOTB stage, headphones seemingly surgically removed from round his neck. Sounds like Kurt Cobain, looks like he could have been in the Jefferson Airplane, and the songs themselves are a relentless rural rollercoaster, sort of like The Band play The Sex Pistols. If Jym Ponter told you the names of his songs, he wouldn’t be Jym Ponter, but I have to say I’ve always been a fan of the manic number with the self-contradictory refrain of ‘naw, naw, naw, naw,naw, naw, na-aw, yeah’, and spiky ruminations on a 3-fronged pork. The second number was a bit more poppy, and (sorry to keep coming out with these sh*t dichotomous analogies) evoked Charles Manson impersonating Liam Gallagher. The third felt like The Mutiny On The Bounty set to music.Great stuff.

Next up was Gary ‘Ghostboy’ Riley, evincing his nihilistic ‘no working’ persona by telling us the only New Year’s Resolution he was making this year was not to make any resolutions,  and he gave us a few from his canon, starting with the very optimistic The One, which could maybe benefit from one or two more adventurous rhymes, but is definitely an upbeat, catchy number. Next up was What You Gonna Do- probably his best-known, and in my opinion, best song, and he finished with another powerful number for which Ken Loach could do the video- When We Were Young, a telling journey through childhood reveries.

Running late for his mates was Daniel Vzeu, but with the aid of a few carefully-worded texts, he was able to stick around for a double squash.Continuing to get away with his ode to a VERY young lady (featuring the oft-heard Sheriff Court line ‘I can’t believe she’s so young’), his first song is typical Vzeu, featuring jazzy runs on the guitar,tonsil-threateningly powerful vocal, and a pithy, swaggering lyric about this over-active love life. A different angle at the ’17’ concept from Janis Ian’s, you might say. The second number, which he was easily persuaded to stick around for, was a funkier number, largely about how enjoyable it is for he and his lady to ‘spend all day in bed with nothing on’…

I [Scott Renton] then won the raffle, for the first time. Given I’ve been to well over 100 OOTBs, this is somewhat surprising. I may frame the Maltesers, rather than eat them.

Noted for having the most impressive-looking guitar on the circuit, Ross Neilson does very polished, brooding songs, through an unexpected sort of London accent, which belies his Alloa roots brilliantly. His first number(Anytime My Faith Decides?) reminded me of Urban Hymns-era Verve (or The Verve as they’d renamed themselves under duress), before moving onto a staccato, downbeat piece, for which the refrain was, I think ‘wake up!’,and finally picking up with a more gung-ho piece (Barricade Your Soul?).Ross’s songs are very professional sounding, and nicely executed; I occasionally feel a lyric which spoke more directly to the listener might be nice, but you can’t doubt the quality.

An enjoyable debut followed, from Eddie and Chris, a sort of ‘Little &Large’ combo who dealt out excellent tunes (titles I have here are Forecast, and Heart Of My Existence), which had a very engaging presence about them, perhaps akin to Snow Patrol or Kings Of Convenience, in that their specialty appeared to be quite intense romanticism, backed up with thought-provoking lyrics (‘gently swinging on her chair… tries to please me, that only makes me feel uneasy’). Definite presence about them, and we’ll be looking forward to seeing and hearing more.

Boasting the Dickensian scarf and jacket combo (quoth David O’Hara:’please sir, can I have a squashee?’), graveyard-shift fan Aaron Wright took to the stage alongside t-shirt clad, harmonica-tooting accomplice Alan Ross. Following a witty opening (‘here are some songs that don’t normally go down very well), the lads fired into a highly melodic track about ‘it’s not the tongue, it’s the heart that lies’, before heading straight into lonesome, and not-at-all-crowded, wild west territory with the sort of cowboy number that you could easily imagine Kris Kristofferson singing, with a soaring moothie over the top. ‘I was a young man when I Left your home’, meanwhile, was typical Aaron, with the dynamics in all the Wright places.

Squashing in for a quick last one was songstress turned tradeswoman Hannah O’Reilly. We know what to expect from Hannah, and Adam and Eve was delivered with the usual heap of sass (‘Adam always seems like a pu$$y tome!’) and confidence. Nice, unexpected end to the night.

Compere: Rob Sproul-Cran Sound: David O’Hara Review: Scott Renton

OOTB 282 January 3rd 2008

Darren Thornberry, Ian Sclater, Nyk Stoddart, Nick Smith, Aaron Lowenberger, Carolyn Scott, Yogi, David Preston, Gavin Taylor (debut), P Gondo.

Darren Thornberry

Darren coaxes the scared child that is 2008 out from under the New Year duvet with the pleading and evocative ‘This thing I do.’ Self-described as ‘a little melancholy tune,’ its actually more gripping than that, with images of runaway trains and such striking out from lines such as ‘the brakes are shot, and so are my chances with you.’ ‘Hovering’ combines open and highly fretted notes to great effect, and as he sings ‘you hover in this room,’ I can almost see the bare shafts of light coming straight from the zinging notes. Darren’s third was also beautiful, but sabotage by my pen running out. If he plays it next week I’ll (because chances are it will be me writing the review) be extra nice about it.

Ian Sclater

‘She paints landscapes’ is highly allegorical (one assumes, with lines like ‘she wants to paint me’), but hits home with revealing admissions of ‘I’ll be her jealous lover any time.’ ‘Talk to somebody’ is a counselling session as melodic instruction , ‘Do you still hear their voice inside your head. If only all psychiatrists were this tuneful or catchy, as vigorous audience participation on the choruses attests. Ian starting the ‘Season Song’ a cappella is both brave and effective, immediately establishing him in a long tradition of folk storytellers. The pagan theme develops with the personification of our times of year as autumn cries ‘dry leaf tears’ and ‘the golden sun became a wedding ring’. He should be official troubadour to the Beltane Festival.

Nyk Stoddart

Hell yeah. If you’re not some chiselled god, go the other way , Stoddart looks frankly brilliant wearing a plastic police helmet like a skew-wif trilby as he launches into ‘Scarecrow Man’. A signature piece, he becomes the song, and you have to love someone who stands on his tiptoes to reach the high notes. ‘Misty Blue’ is quiet, driving and atmospheric, ‘fog rolls over the hills’. A bit like Sigur Ros! if Sigur Ros were anything like Nyk’s crazed bluesman onstage, and not just a soggy sack of tatties. His last actually manages to sound like the musical embodiment of going Cold Turkey. I’m not sure that’s the intention, but with lines like ‘I need to get my kicks, he said like a petulant child,’ it is an audience favourite.

Nick Splinter Smith

Continues the aural assault, with a tale of ‘Californian dream lands’ and other such drug-fuelled nightmares. Masterful changes of timbre and a 12string that’s just out of tune enough to create a phasing effect that I, for one, loved. Nick performs with energy and a real menace, looking genuinely demonic in the harsh red stage lighting. Easy Listening just soiled itself and ran home crying. ‘Let your ego’, or something along those lines, is berating and powerful , ‘the dogs of war are snapping at your heels.’ I’m not sure whose heels, but this is almost Wildman-reggae, and pretty entertaining. Finishes with a harmonica blues, in which Nick’s subject is ‘wondering the best friend to hit for a loan.’ And when he let’s rip! ‘A Night on the Bare Mountain’ can’t touch this guy.

Aaron ‘Lowlife Bam Burger’ Lowenberger

The Pride of New Jersey â„¢ opens with ‘Nothing to do’, a song inspired by the question, ‘What do I do without my girlfriend?’ Happily, it isn’t the musical equivalent of the obvious answer , m@sturb@tion. It’s more like ‘Wish You Were Here’, except with more foot-tapping goodness. ‘Solitude’ (man, this guy clearly does spend a lot of time on his own) Actually, that’s backed up by the shit hot guitar playing, evoking Davy Graham, with heavy dollops of John Martyn (I can see the dope haze and hear the incoherent gravel slurrings in my head), topped off with Bert Jansch finger-picking, it is executed with fearlessness and flair. ‘Lost/Last Man’s Jig’ (can’t read my own handwriting, apologies) could come straight from the Isles. It is stomping and flawless , this guy raises the bar for the evening. I want more.

Carolyn Anona Scott ‘Carried on the winds of sound’ is equal parts lyric and description for her first. Her open guitar is so resonant that I thought it was a 12 string (and was duly ridiculed for it later in the evening). ‘See You’ is driven by a fog-horn bass D drone, and has the power to dim the lights inside my head, as the lines ‘You float like smoke on the wind’ and ‘Why are you always running from me?’ transport me. It’s great to see Carolyn a bit more at Ootb again, and it has to say something that her performance overpowers the fact that any meeting with a guitar tuner may have been an unhappy one, as she sings that there are ‘stones on my shoulders the world can’t see,’ in her last of the night.

Yogi (squashee)

A typically ardent call to arms, Yogi’s songs don’t so much highlight the ills of society as beat them to bloody pulp with a rolling pin covered in spikes , ‘Take control, sanity is mine!’ Who would argue?

David Preston

His chords are open but palm muted, as he unleashes an effortlessly cement-mixer voice. He hides under a hoodie but projects to the back of the room. ‘Error 404’ is an affectionate ode of sorts to computers, expressing the frustration we are all too familiar with. It’s like Snow Patrol but way more biting and acerbic. ‘Brand New Day’ is jolly and lilting. Short and sweet, but David, now unveiled from the shadows of the hoodie, still has time to roar. Good stuff.

Gavin Taylor

Starts with fine blues that a voice and guitar that are truly cutting , the guitar for the staccato riffing, the voice for the sheer impact. When he sings that he has to ‘keep this devil from my door tonight,’ you believe him. Straying more into ballads for his second, it is a harsh and perhaps honest confession of a man at the end of his relationship tether , ‘I’m staying with you because you need me and nothing more.’ Like his first, this one displays a voice that doesn’t have to be put on , he doesn’t have to try to sound like he sings the blues, he just does. Puts some others to shame, to be honest. ‘Take it to the river’ takes it not into Al Green territory, but more country. Well, power country. I mean, more sort of ballads again , we’re not talking line dancing here, people. This may have been Gavin’s first OOTB, in which case, welcome. Otherwise, I hope we’ll see more of this.

P Gondo

The fact that he changes his name (Gondu) on the back of a typo (of sorts) says a lot about this man’s openness to styles, branding, and musical output. Never was that demonstrated so much as tonight. ‘The Medicine Girl’ kicks things off as performance poetry, which is attention grabbing to say the least. Quickly moving into Hendrix-style as guitar mimics his vocal melody. It’s all fairly obscure and one wonders if he is a fan of Nyk Stoddart. ‘Sofa’, so good. The lyrics work up a notch in terms of general weirdness and unintelligibility, with such gems as ‘basketcase on a steamboat’ and ‘I’ve got head lice’. By the time we reach Gondo’s final, I’m just scribbling question marks on my notebook, which must at least mean that its all very stimulating. The last is spoken word poetry, except that there’s an impromptu and dishevelled jam between some bongos and Gondo’s guitar going on in the background. Brave, original and nothing if not challenging. This may just be the most important stuff of the night, regardless of whether you can actually listen to it or not.

Review: Rob Sproul-Cran

OOTB 280 December 6 2007

Carolyn Scott, Ghost Boy, Paul Gladwell, Echo, Ross Neilson, Tone, Nyk Stoddart, David O’Hara.

Our review was two-fold this week, as Rob Sproul-Cran picked off the first few acts, and a brave Nyk Stoddart was inducted to the OOTB review fold after the first break. Enjoy!

Carolyn Scott
Our compere for the night kicks things off with some very fine tunes. She mixes finger-picking and strumming fluently. The fact that she doesn’t feel the need to affect any other accent than her own speaks volumes, and is extremely effective. Moving on to a tale of torn love, separated by circumstance, it is a welcome departure from the tried and tested ‘I hate you now! I got dumped!.I ran off with your brother’s friend’s cousin’s dog!’ This is trickier territory to navigate, but Carolyn manages just fine. Her final talks of ‘going home for Christmas’, but not in the saccharine, Cliff Richard style one might fear. Rather than the soft focus treatment, we get a knowing depiction of being ‘crowded by nostalgia’ and a pleasant return to familiarity, though to ‘friends I barely even know’.

Ghost Boy
‘One’ is carried by a gravely voice that gives depth to quite cheery lyrics. It all feels quite familiar, though I can’t decide whether that is a matter of originality or just tapping in to common truths. His second retains a religious undercurrent with lines such as ‘Oh Lord, let me breathe’. Nice chords prevent Ghost Boy from ‘drowning in silence’.
Actually, he needn’t worry , a mobile phone ringing displaces any threatening silence. Funny thing is, it’s his own. I would love to say that’s the first time I’ve seen that happen, but it’s not. ‘Falling Down’
is neither a Muse nor Duran Duran song, nor a Michael Douglas film, but another solemn tale from Ghost Boy! until his phone goes again.

Paul Gladwell
‘Easy Street’ derides those who take all for granted and drift through life unfulfilled as a result. It’s ‘heaven or bust’, as everything must be perfect or nothing. This is clearly from experience, and benefits from some really interesting thumb-strumming. Next, Paul takes the proverbial and turns it into a song. We start out with love as a card game, and meander through great references in a new context. The stand-out line has to be ‘you are my flour, when I’ve got no dough!’ Genius. ‘Truth or Dare’
sees Paul liberated with a plectrum, and unleashes his satire as a more biting and earnest Jarvis Coker, were it possible.

I pass now to our second reviewer for the night, Nyk (with a Y) Stoddart.

Echo
‘You Can Use It’: Of groovy hair & leather jacket, ramshackly radiance abounds with a plaintive reggae thing about the music ‘taking control’
with some fantastic dark, chordy chords with some latino influence.
‘Waiting In Vain’: is a Bob Marley cover (boo! Hiss!) with some percussive elements & a vocal which matches its naturalistic elements.
‘Better To Have Loved’: a mournful ballad about accepting pain without self-damage-which transmutes to & fro into a rocky ballad utilizing skeletal chords with some flying descending bass notes.

Ross Neilson
Despite suffering from a bad cold Ross decides to try out some new stuff.
As is sometimes the case, his vocals only seem to benefit from his temporary affliction, giving them a more gritty realistic quality. ‘Shadow In Night Falls’ has such emotive singing , with lines like ‘Lines are drawn when you decide to steal her’ & the mention of a ‘fragile tear’; it has a lilt that pleases the ear. ‘Junie Come Home’ has Neil Young-ish chordings & ‘Stereolite’ is a catchy driving song , it’s good when a song tells a story.

Tone
With what sounded like new strings there was some great fingerpicking reminiscent of Paul Simon. ‘Feels Like I Told A Lie’ has much hummage & a rippling, cascading tone flowing like a river across the desert. ‘You Don’t Want To Be Alive’ has some mellifluous rippling guitar with some melodic hootage. All the songs benefit from that melodic catchy edge that keeps an audience interested.

(Dave O’Hara takes over review for the next one[- everyone take note, this is a definite first!])

Nyk
‘Scarecrow Man’ , Heavy Strumming [cheers Dave!!] ‘Lollipop Lady’ Dedicated to Wayne Rooney. He states that its not his best set tonight – being beerful as is sometimes the case with this chap.

(Nyk returns)

Dave O’Hara
And a very good end to the evening it was too! Flaming of cap, Dave O’Hara starts with ‘Song Before The 2nd One’, which is like sunsets boiling in the desert haze of tequila evenings reflecting on distant sorrows.
‘Arabian Nights’ is a signature piece for Dave with some fantastic runs & ruminating notes while ‘Flamenco Thing’ gets the handclaps going.

Compere: Carolyn Scott
Review: Rob Sproul-Cran, Nyk Stoddart and Dave O’Hara
Sound: Malcolm McLean

Events guy Rob Sproul-Cran scribed up last week’s action masterfully; gon
yersel, Rob!

OOTB 279
========
Sparrahawk, Tim Allen, Freeloadin Frank, Aaron Lowen Bemer, Lewis
Campbell, Starship, Ghostboy, Davy Watson, Tony, Ross Baird, Aaron Wright.

Sparrahawk
The right honourable Spamborskee, tonight driving proceedings, opens them
too with a set on behalf of his full band, Sparrahawk. Opens with
‘Seagulls’, which I’m more used to hearing unplugged at ear-shredding
close quarters. With the OOTB PA, Spam could afford to let his facial
muscles do the work – anyone with more animated eyebrows, please let me
know. The next is unaccompanied, and Spam makes the most of not being
guitar-bound to strut around the performance area. A masterclass in
compelling musicianship, you cannot look at anything else in the room when
he plays. A red light on the stage also adds menace to this, a celebration
of a misspent youth, rapped in poignance. “Get it up ya while yer young!”
–‘Carpe Diem’ has never been said so well. He finishes with a tale of a
‘Secret Squirrel’, which may or may not be a euphemism.

Tim Allen
‘You Fly, You Dream, You Cry’ introduces a beautiful tone in both guitar
and voice. Opens with muted syncopation but settles into American alt rock
of Counting Crows ilk, only without 17 instruments. More instruments could
be handy – Tim seems most at ease when not juggling guitar and vox at the
same time. A real lighters-aloft number. ‘She Tells You That She Loves
You’ is a biting Lou Reed-esque tale of betrayed love. I should have been
high to truly appreciate the chilled out angst, but with lines like “she
smiles and watches you bleed”, not sure I could have coped. Pretty sore
stuff – hope it’s not autobiographical. ‘Bullies of the World’ is a
cautionary tale, that laments the state we are already in. Tim’s voice
croaks satisfyingly, but the song could do with more drive, to hammer home
the point, rather than have us seek it out.

Freeloadin Frank
‘By The Rubble In Palestine’ bastardises ‘Rivers Of Babylon’ to great
effect. Tells the sorry tale of the West Bank. Frank’s far-from-dulcet
tones bring immediacy to a subject he clearly cares about a great deal. I
for one am just glad we can hear this stuff – if in the US, the
anti-semitism police would stop it in a second. This sh1t’s important –
thank you Frank. On a lighter note, ‘I Wanna Be A Guru’ extols the many
virtues of having one’s own ashram, most notably the “20st groupies”. Come
on – we’ve all thought about it. Right? Finishes with the best
should-have-been-in-the-soundtrack song of the night – all the versions of
the film would have been better for it. An ode to the purest love there
is: that between a girl and a 100ft gorilla. ‘Climbing up the Empire State
Building’ is catchy as hell – it’s always a good sign when the audience
sing along.

Aaron Lowen Bemer
Apologies if the name’s not right – it’s even sillier than mine. Aaron
does instrumentals, which means they have to pretty damn good to sustain
interest with no vox. Luckily, they are. Beautiful flourishes that
intrigue but don’t detract. The chords are complex and run up and down the
fretboard; a rock-steady beat maintains structure. Reminded me of Davy
Graham’s ‘Angie’ in the best way. ‘Waiting For You, Waiting For Me’. Opens
on a drone worthy of a double bass. His tone and volume control is great.
A comforting feeling of familiarity to it, but it still keeps me
interested.
His last shows off brave and flowing technique, combining full notes and
harmonics at will. It looks fairly easy. It’s not. Fast and fluid, it
builds as we go. If John Martyn played (perish the thought) Snow Patrol,
this would be the outcome. This guy will be pimped for accompaniments
before he knows it. I just hope he finds the time to do his own stuff too.

Lewis Campbell
“I’ve never done this before”, I think I heard him saying. I don’t believe
him – this guy is accomplished and, if not actually, gives the impression
of being totally at ease on stage. His first, about a break-up, builds on
a fine tenor voice to cut abruptly and effectively to spoken, then back.
It grabs you by the throat for attention. His second, about “some ugly
buildings”, portrays love found against a community lost, as urban
regeneration sweeps all before it. He has a fearless high voice, which can
only improve with more practice. ‘There May Be Trouble Ahead’ – I’m sure
he gets this a lot, but it’s not the opening line to a Morecambe and Wise
classic, rather a brooding tale. The spoken word he weaves into the set
again surfaces, but as always is delivered as well as his singing – it’s
not an afterthought. One of my standout favourites of the night. Cracking.

Starship
‘Scarecrow Man’ I always thought this was called ‘Skeletor Man’, and I
must say I’m mildly disappointed to find it’s not [me too- has Stoddart
changed his song’s names as well as his own????]. Nyk Stoddart doesn’t do
subtle (you should see the colour of his myspace), at least not in
delivery. I’m sure there are a few lyrics intricacies that I’m yet to
grasp, but for now I’m washed along by this hard blues with a twist…
Speaking of which, ‘Bad Blues’ rails against the “same old crap on TV
again” in a music-fuelled mania. As he careers around the stage and more,
Nyk proves once again that, regardless of whether you like his stuff, it’s
all about performing songs, not just playing them.

Ghost Boy
‘Where You Going With That Gun?’ is slow indie that talks of “too many
people killing, too many dying” and the sobering tale of a friend losing
their way in spectacular fashion. He confirms what I suspected, saying at
the end “but it’s true!”, and in doing so seems to miss the point that if
the song doesn’t speak for itself, a footnote won’t help. The authenticity
of the message is lost in delivery. A new one now, which sounds like a
slow ‘Girl From Mars’. I for one wouldn’t mind Ash axe-girl Charlotte
Hatherley adding some harmonies and sex-appeal as he sings “I’ve fallen
down again”. In his third, there are catchy licks, but a meatier sound and
a steady beat would elevate this one. I have never warmed to Ghost Boy’s
onstage persona, but then neither have I had the courtesy to get to know
him before writing this.

Yogi
‘Krakatoa’- utterly undaunted by hecklers, even if they are of the
pleasant OOTB kind. This angry song mixes palm muting with the brick wall
of a relationship to great effect. Drives along like a polar bear on a
Harley.

Tony
An unassuming presence who introduces himself with nice finger-picking on
‘Feel No Need’. It’s good enough to sustain interest on its own, and then
the vocals come in. A great voice, talking of a jealous man. Creepy but
soothing. A new one, think he said first time that night, is a mobile
phone advert classic. A stupidly catchy falsetto lick, sung in a high
throated voice like I’ve never heard. Happy strumming and accomplished
changes of tempo and timbre make a beautiful package. To be honest though,
he can relax – Orange et al will only use the first 20 seconds and still
pay him silly money for it.‘On the Run’ is a Clapton-esque minor blues. It
could do with high vox harmony, but lifts instantly with the harmonica. By
the end it is knee-slapping vitriol. Most satisfying. Altogether, bit of a
gem. I would buy his album. Simple.

Davy Watson
Segues neatly from drunken heckler to rambling blues man. Ably joined by
Aaron Lowen Bemer, this one’s minor with lots of augmented chords (they’re
the ones that sound like a raised eyebrow). Drudgery in lyrical content is
carried by exuberance and on-stage interaction. “I’m a shambles” says
Davy, not as lyric, more just as a comment on his own state. ‘Catch The
Foxes’ sees Spam join Davy for a top notch rendition, when it gets going.
There’s a lot of momentum in runaway trains. Lastly, Davy and Spam impro
over a slide riff from Davy, while Spam takes about two seconds to decide
on lyrics and launches into them. Davy’s moothie adds to Spam’s tornado,
and the whole thing is carried along entirely on the confidence of the two
performers. Who needs to write songs beforehand?

Ross Baird
mmm… Nice vest. Sorry, was distracted by Ross’s fetching threads. Hailing
> from that musical hotbed of (I believe) Iona, Ross produces a very tidy
package of vox and guitar. He has the control expected of a guitar tutor,
which he is, but a presence that is far from a given. When Darren
Thorn-logan-blackberry joins on harmony vox, things get sublime. Davy
Watson is making funny noises of excitement in the corner, and while I
can’t quite match his Barbarella impression, I do have goosebumps. Song of
the night – no doubt. I can’t remember the name, I was too busy listening.
‘Ode to Colum’s Jig’ lies down and drone on bass strings then lets the
melody shine through with some very fine guitar playing indeed. A
headliner before very long at all, I think. I hope.

Aaron Wright
Second Aaron of the night, though it doesn’t seem to bother him, he plays
‘Teardrops’. It features high tenor singing “I’ll never heed the signs”.
Alan on harmonica (must have jammed on stage with at least 500 Edinburgh
musicians – about as ubiquitous as a plectrum) adds to a nice arrangement.
‘Trampoline’ I haven’t heard this in a while, but as Aaron is no doubt
aware, this is his ‘Creep’. In the future, he won’t be aloud to leave the
stadium without encoring with this. He sings of having “nowhere to fall.”
Crowd-surfing will probably take care of that worry. It is a great melody
– I’m still singing it.

Compere: ACL Spamborskee
Review: Rob Sproul-Cran
Sound: O’Hara???

OOTB 278 November 22 2007

Finally, Daniel Davis gave his toupee’s worth on last week’s proceedings in an interestingly coiffured style. Did he feel more Vidal Sassoon or Sweeney Todd? Read on and find out.

Rob Sproul-Cran, Susanna MacDonald, Nyk Stoddart, Chris Kaufman (debut), Calum Carlyle, Ben Young, Daniel Vzeu, Electric White Boy, Nick Smith, Ton (debut), Jim Tudor (debut), Ross Neilson, Stephen Harrison (debut).

‘Twas a winter’s night and all honour to those braving the cold to bring their wares to the music marketplace that is OOTB. After the last few reviews I’m puzzled as to how I could be equally surreal… but on proud display tonight were all manner of beautiful barnets the likes of which may never be seen in this town again. That said, I will at least try to mention the songs.

Rob Sproul-Cran

Our newly appointed master of events on the OOTB committee brings dreadlocks to the connoisseur of coiffeur.

Perhaps he didn’t look at the rota but never, and I mean never wander nonchalantly up to the reviewer and say ‘I wish I’d put some thought into what I’m going to play’. If you are as talented as Rob then maybe you can get away with digging out your greatest hits. He starts with ‘She Steals Away’ which starts with parallel 9ths which remind me of ‘What I Am’ by Edie Brickell. All this falsetto stuff is hard to achieve first song of the night, and would have been better after something simpler as a warm-up first, but it’s a great song nonetheless. Then he plays ‘The Father’ , a gripping if chilling spoken number which could be described either as touching or creepy (if you don’t know it, it involves scalpels and eyebrows and I’ll leave the rest to your imagination). As if to engender even more confidence, he then announces ‘a lively one to counterbalance the drudgery we’ve just witnessed’. He may have a point, perhaps we should stipulate that the first performer must play all happy songs! Lastly his best of the night, ‘One Day Soon’, a slightly jazzy number with considerable vibe in the accompaniment that could be Jack Johnston.

Susanna McDonald

Susanna MacDonald in 2005

Her first is inspired by a Noel Coward poem ‘Remembered Laughter’ which was found with his dead body. Susanna’s songwriting is musically sophisticated, and this song not an immediate crowd pleaser. It appeared to start in 5/8 and then lapse into 6/8, although at times indistinct. I think anything in 5/8 is making a point and should be consistent. This was its first public outing and I think I need a few listens to decide on this one, but I’m expecting it to grow on me as the performance gets more confident. Her second is ‘The Ba Ba Song’ which is more challenging lyrically but musically simple , this one gets the audience singing along.
She is joined for ‘I am Everybody Else’ by John Farrell, who always adds a touch of class with his exceptional playing. The introduction reminds me of ‘Drowning Man’ by The Cure. It is rhythmically driving and gradually builds , yeah, go ahead, scream- I think the speakers can take it. This is a woman in full flow, frenetic and forceful.

Nyk Stoddart

Some say the next performer has shaved off his hair and the straggles that emerge around his shoulders are in fact hair extensions attached to his pork pie hat. All we know is he’s called Stigg Stoddart, sorry make that Nyk Stoddart.

‘Misty Blue’ should really be listened to through the prism of a drug-induced haze. Unfortunately I’m sober as a judge. It is all swirling strumming and wandering chords, eventually it sort of stops rather than finishes. It is curiously evocative and effective. Next up is ‘Closer to Your Own!’ Lyrically I think this is about an act giving the performer pleasure whilst giving none to anyone else, at certain points, it could stand for the song as well [to illustrate the point?]! Still it was good to hear some new material.

Chris Kaufmann

Chris boasts a short back ‘n’ sides: ‘a proper haircut’ as my ageing father would say.

Come now, not the ‘I don’t have any names for my songs’ argument again. Go on, treat your audience with some respect , we’ve come here to listen to you and to be entertained, please think about us! Rant over.

His first song, which I will call ‘I Wanna Feel Your Body’ was somewhat marred by his nerves , starting three times and eventually giving up as he forgot the words. A pity, because what we did hear was actually rather good. The best cure for nerves is to just keep coming, you’ll definitely find a receptive audience here, but with the romantic material best bring some girl friends along. His second which I shall call ‘Before She Leaves’
also showed a lot of promise. For me, the guitar was too aggressive for the song and improved markedly when you got quieter towards the end.

Hmm, if one song is a squashee, what is two songs , a squishy perhaps?

Calum Carlyle

Calum has a tidy greased back affair with a hint of spikiness.

‘Usually I know what I’m going to sing’. Is this the theme of the night?
Aaargh. Honestly we didn’t need to hear that. Just pretend that it’s all planned and intended. We’ll thank you for it.

His first is a blues number, ‘I Belive In Rock and Roll’. OK, the title sounds a little cheesy, but Calum can really do blues. The second is a song about coleslaw , that’s right, no mis-print! The guitar work betrays Calum’s forays into mandolin playing with melody picked on the lower notes with lots of open strings above. I’m almost tempted to go to Thurso to sample the vegetarian delights “made by angels”.
His last is ‘The Sound Of Falling In Love At First Sight’ with a Jose Gonzalez-style guitar. If you must do drop-tuned guitar, you must do it like this. A real gem. Calum is quite the musical chameleon, three songs in three very different styles lyrically, musically, and vocally, but always managing to sound original and authentic.

Ben Young

Ben has lost the shaved extravagance of a political protester and since growing his curls looks more like Frodo than ever.

He performs a squashee of a new song to me , ‘Battle of the Bands’ written after his little brother didn’t win such a contest and ‘It was wrong!’ Ah, heaven. I love this stuff. Ben always manages to write songs about subjects ignored by others, quirky, original and brilliant as always.

Daniel Vzeu

Daniel sports a trendy messed up affair, bound to attract the girls , if only there were any in the audience.

Another squishee! first up, ‘The Girl And The Biscuit’. Crumbs! Daniel has an inexhaustable supply of songs about relationships. I’m not sure if I’m more concerned about the number of break-ups or about love songs involving
17 year-olds, or perhaps I’m just jealous. It has a tender, rocking accompaniment. The second is ‘Human After All’ which is back to his scat singing ‘diddly oop da dow’. He says it’s not finished and that half the words were made up. Presumably when it is finished all the words will be made up, if you get my drift. Quality as usual.

Electric White Boy

The acoustic white boy has had a trim, loosing his Neil from the Young Ones style, now adopting thoroughly sophisticated flowing locks which, only lacking for some flouncy attire, make him look extremely like Oscar Wilde.

‘Hold Fast’ sounds somewhat Led Zeppelin to me both guitar-wise and vocally. It’s a good impression, but I feel like I’m hearing an impersonation. ‘What’s A Boy Gotta Do’ is a blues number but starts with what I can only call a recitative. It has slightly odd chords , not sure the E works in the key. It also sounds like a cover. I’m impatient – you have all the chops and a good vocal range but I feel that we’re yet to hear your true voice.

Nick Smith

Nick is our compere for the night and thus beyond reproach.

‘Do You Want A Piece Of Me?’ witty and acid lyrics delivered flawlessly.
As our MC, he allows himself the indulgence of a cover ‘Jealous Man’ by Hoyt Axton.

Ton

A neat crop.

Ton(e?) delivers picking loveliness admired by all. With somewhat angrier lyrics than accompaniment, I thought it could do with a little more grit or growl vocally. The second song features even faster finger-picking- many oohs and ahs from the appreciative audience. Ton is a very good player needing just a bit more confidence performance-wise.

Jim Tudor

Jim has a hairstyle that last saw favour when white suits and platforms were de rigueur… yes, tonight he has the full Leo Sayer.

I’ve not seen Jim before, but I can only describe the sound as Billy Brag does love songs. ‘When the sun runs out of time we’ve got 8 minutes to flee’ makes you think. ‘The Doctor’ is a diatribe against doctors and plastic surgeons; mind you my neighbour thought the first verse was about a dodgy gynaecologist. In fact it was about a dentist, just shows how wrong you can be.

Ross Neilson

Ross Neilson was topped with a woolly hat.

He starts with ‘Summer Wave’, ‘cos it’s cold outside. He has a big guitar , some kind of Gibson dreadnaught by the looks of it, and his playing is rich and resonant. The second is ‘Shadow When Night Falls’ a good one that really suits his playing and vocal delivery. The third is harder and political. A well-rounded set from Ross who is also growing in confidence and stature week by week. One to watch.

Stephen Harrison

Stephen is a new performer to me, but he has the air of someone who has been doing this for a long time. The first is ‘Girl Come Home’. Oddly, he plays an electric DI’d but it works well with the material, his voice deep over the jangling chords. ‘Tomorrow’ has interesting voicings with lots of open strings, and the third ‘Who are they?’ has rhythmic strummings and again interesting chords. It’s as if he ignores standard chords, but always experiments on the neck to find some sonority with which he’s happy. It’s also obvious that he knows his way around a fretboard by the absolutely minimal movement between chords. Good songsmith too, by the way.

Nick Smith

Back for seconds, Nick treats us to ‘Deepest Blue’. It’s the sort of song that makes Graeme Mearns sound like an optimist!

Compere: Nick Smith
Sound: David O’Hara & Jim Whyte
Review: Daniel Davis

Out of the Bedroom 277- 15th November, 2007

Last week was full of originals- here’s what happened.

OOTB 277
=========
Nyk Stoddart, Rosie Bell, Freeloading Frank, Hannah O’Reilly, Simon Kempston & Rosie Hunter (featured), Angus Coull, Chris Mossop, David O’Hara, Steven Carey, P Gondu.

A dog is not a dog. A house is not a house. After Calum Duchamp raised the Dada bar in this missive last week, there was a feeling (Electric White Boy, and your Gonzo journalism, this means you!) that perhaps we could start a new period of Post-Surrealism, recalling the styles embraced by John Magritte in his legendary “white jaguar” reviews, which were reined in by Norman Rosenberg, who questioned where this particular art form was headed. I toyed with this idea- making the review utterly abstruse and intractable, but opted against it (although you may disagree!), because Calum accepts no imitations. At times, the review may err towards surreal, not by design, but because the music itself was, on occasion, quite far out there…

Take for example, Mr Nyk Stoddart, a man whose very name prompts
questions- “Y?” indeed. I spoke to Nyk briefly after his set, and he claims that he gives his songs names like Skeletor Man because he’s challenging the standard aesthetic: “It’s the punk in me!” he said. “But you’re blatantly a hippy,” was my response. “That’s because I’m anti-anti-establishment”. Touche. After a long conversation about the Masters of the Universe toys and a quick look at his music (Fake Jazz was a wonderful re-reading of  Hendrix’s Woodstock performance, with acerbic quips against fretboard strainers; Skeletor Man featured a bunch of his inimitible vocal athletics), we decided that Nyk was a fine exponent of Post-Mortemism; expect a song by this title to exist by the time you read this. Our compere, Rob Sproul-Cran, referred to Nyk’s performance as
“sublime”- and I suppose if you take Kant’s definition- beauty contained in a boundless object- then I’m sure everyone would concur.

Next up was Rosie Bell, who clearly engineered a slot after Nyk to assert her “mainstream” side. If  Nyk’s a punk, then Rosie is decidedly New Wave- giving us the kind of keyboard noises Gary Numan used to batter out in the early 1980s, but with far pithier lyrics. Indeed, if Rosie’s friends are electric, it might explain the “screams and shouts from the girls allowed(/loud?)”, shocked and soaked from playing their part in the City Of Alcohol. She follows it up with a cautionary tale (which I’ve only heard her read before)- Don’t Sh*g The Man On Lead Guitar. Likes a list song does Rosie, and she rattles off all the instrument-players it’s ok to get involved with (“baby wipes to the man on pipes????”), before ravaging the egos of guitarists everywhere. She finishes her three songs with her current favourite, the sparse Dead Cool, Dead Hard number, which praises loads of pre-, mid- and post- punks, giving special props to a certain Lou Reed.

Freeloadin' Frank 18 December 2003

Rosie actually stayed up to duet with another underground legend, Freeloading Frank Titterton. I’m not sure if F n’ C was written collaboratively, but it was memorably performed so. It’s hard to tell:
“Edinburgh Fringe/ awash with c*nt and m*nge”, seemed pure Frank, but “If you get a shock/when you see a c*ck/you are simply showing off your age”- that rings Bell. Totally X-rated, and unreviewable without the aid of a shift key; marvellous. Rosie then left Frank to play (unquestionably) two of his own classics, I Wanna Be A Guru, which nicely lampoons the likes of George Harrison’s Maharishi pal (“transfer money from you to me”), and the classic Scully (“don’t believe in ghosts or satanic toast”). John Barclay mentioned a similarity between Frank and WC Fields, who used words because he liked the feel of them- true, but I think Frank quite enjoys the meanings imbued as well….

To complete a first period of true originals, Hannah O’Reilly was next to the stage. She’s back in Edinburgh for the foreseeable, and has been writing new songs to boot. Nothing I’d heard before in her set: Foolish, Faith and Dimes. Foolish- which reminded me a lot of the angsty ambience of one of her older favourites, Strange Friend- was about being a fool for someone, but not letting them break your heart, and left me wondering if this was about the city she can’t give up. Faith, written and delivered with the flu, fell into Hannah’s other camp, the laid back side; loved the wee play on words, “Faith- I’ve never been there/ Faith- the final frontier”. Hannah closed with Dimes, a song she says she loves performing because she gets to say the word “m*therf*cker” in it- what’s with all the profanity tonight??! A nice rebuff to anyone that tries to buy her affection, she doesn’t want your “business, nickels, dimes”. Not one to take busking on the streets of New York then! She’s still churning out the hits though, which is great to see.

If we’d seen bits of Surrealism, and distinct Abstract Expressionism in the course of tonight’s set, we were taken back to The Scottish Enlightenment by tonight’s featured act, Simon Kempston & Rosie Hunter. We don’t see as much of Simon round here as we used to, but there’s no doubt he’s been busy working on new material; the very introspective style (though never ‘shy’ as such) has become a lot more direct, and while it’s more Donovan-tinged folk than jazz these days, it’s still highly suited to the late-night barroom ambience. This highly structured set tackled a diverse range of subjects, from James IV’s raising of the royal fleet at Newhaven (Ladies’ Lookout), through the port of Rosyth (To See The Lights)  to the freeing of the Baltic States (a recent holiday destination) (We Formed A Barricade). The tunes are strong and distinctive- see the Bert Jansch-like Carefree Prisoner- and the lyrics are highly thought-provoking (his musing on Scotland’s sectarian struggle is detached, and
non-judgemental- “do they march in war, or do they march in peace?”, “Christian sentiment feeds this angry crowd”). Simon was backed by Rosie, a classical violin player making a foray into folk with Simon (and his band, The Statements), and her wistful counter-melodies supported the songs nicely, giving a whole new level of atmosphere to them. Highly engaging set, and nice to see the room good and busy while it was on!

Keyboard wizard Angus Coull has been along a few times recently, and I felt that tonight was the best I’d seen him. He started with Nothing Is Going My Way- which starts off in Beethoven territory and moves effortlessly into New Order, presumably picking up Kratfwerk and Joy Division on the way, in senitment and sound. This was well backed up in the second number, which was very bleak: “she was your mistress/ you always knew and so did your wife/ where is she now/ under the raging sea”- Ian Curtis would have no qualms whatsoever about performing lyrics such as these. Angus maintained the bleak, visceral lyrics in the closing number, which featured such lines as “I’m tired and I’m lonely, my life is over, it was killed by you only”, although in this case, the upbeat, jaunty nature of the tune, with nice little flourishes, belies the feeling. Deep, dark, and engaging stuff.

Poor Chris Mossop bewailed the number of times he’s been reviewed as a debutant at OOTB- I can only assume this is because his appearances are well-spaced in frequency, and there are a lot of reviewers doing the job, as this is the fifth or sixth time I’ve seen him. Chris has a deep, soulful voice, which is similar to (though not necessarily influenced by) the likes of Billy Joe Armstrong or John Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls, and his songs tonight would fit in quite well across the pond. It’s all very listenable, generally up-tempo stuff- even when (in the case of the first song, about the Iraq war), the subject is quite bleak. The last two numbers dealt with relationships (“I can’t believe I’ve met someone like you”, “I don’t want to be second best”), and while the subject matter may be a well-trodden path, Chris kept the attention of the audience with a nice range of movement on the guitar.

Another terrific artist whose profile suffers a bit  because he appears at the Canons Gait once every six months is Andy Northall. Andy’s got a real knack for shutting the room up with expert guitar picking, and this was brilliantly in evidence tonight with a quality instrumental squashee that put me in mind of Dick Gaughan. We need to see a longer set from Andy, and I don’t just mean three songs!

Tonight’s raffle win went to Nicole, who picked up a box of revels. Let’s hope she had fun looking for the orange one.

You know when David O’Hara means business. That’s when he turns up with nylon six-string, not saying things like “the calluses in my fingers are a bit  shallow just now”. Dave was straight to work doing a bizarre Christine Keeler impersonation with a chair before propping his foot on it in true John Williams style. Tonight’s numbers justified the special effort- he opened with Let’s See How It Goes Op.34, “The Only Joking, I Know Exactly What I’m Doing Waltz”, a bleak, brooding number, fresh out of an Eastern European romance soundtrack. Arabian Nights has become Dave’s most lauded piece, it’s his own equivalent of Tom Waits’ Tango Till They’re Sore; not a note out of place, and Big Jim added a power of atmosphere from the mixing desk. Dave ended with a Cossack-esque number- if this was in support of the Russian football team’s efforts on Saturday, though, we now know it was in vain…

Simon Kempston’s partner in Southbound Sessions, Steven Carey, was along tonight, and it was good to see a hat-trick of new songs from him. Steven’s an expert at combining fairly simple melodies with confessional lyrics and an absolutely soaring vocal, so while the songs tonight didn’t represent a huge departure from his usual fare, they couldn’t have been the work of anybody else. No idea what the titles were (I’ll take a stab at You Couldn’t Be Any Easier To Like, Great White Shark and Leave This Party), but they engaged in areas of relationships, the state of the world (“the news is twice as vulgar as p*rn”), and, inkeeping with tonight’s seedy tour of the gutter, reasons for going to a party, “to be a total *rse” and pick someone up, because “I’m not in the mood to be a gentleman”.

Finally, to take us back into unusual, Syd Barrett territory was someone we hadn’t seen in ages: P Gondu. P used to play here under the Tom Waits-inspired moniker of Eyeball Kid, and it’s always great to see someone we thought we’d lost come back to the fold. Three songs tonight, Don’t Share Your Doubt, Wait A While and a cover of the Lemonheads’ Into Your Arms (hell, it was the last song of the night, we were hardly gonna stop him!). Mr Gondu would be the first to agree his delivery is unconventional- heading down post-Psychedelic Jennifer Gentle territory, but the songs themselves aren’t so unconventional: Don’t Share Your Doubt was a Johnny Cash-style tune, with a couple of really emotive minors, and Wait A While was similarly countrified, especially in lyrics which complained of “just another broken heart”. Good to get the crowd joining in on the Dando number at the end, and nice to see the one-time Eyeball Kid still doing his stuff.

Compere: Rob Sproul-Cran
Sound: David O’Hara and James Whyte
Review: Scott Renton
Raffle: John Barclay