Tonight’s entertainment (as well as being served up with chocolate chip cookies!) was brought to us in the form of ‘A Quiet Night Out’ - a regular folk session of extraordinary quality that has started to gather momentum on it’s bounce from venue to venue in the city centre - all thanks to the good old-fashioned forward thinking of Forecast promotions, who did themselves proud once more.
The ‘open-mic’ informality of this travelling showcase did nothing to compromise the diversity of sheer talent on display, with a line up driven as much by mutual respect as audience appreciation. The Bay Horse offers an intimate setting that is perfectly suited to the kind of improvised jam session from which folkies get their kicks.
I descended the stairs of this long-forgotten, recently re-opened pub in time to catch the beginning of a beguiling set from Manchester performer NANCY ELIZABETH CUNLIFFE.
Switching her attention from minature harp to guitar, her unassuming delivery let the music breathe in full as it washed over and through the hearts of those present. After fingerpicking her way through a lovely rendition of ‘Battle Over The War’, she treated us to the delights of songs such as ‘Waiting For Cars’ and ‘Two Shoulders’, a number she sang unaccompanied which showcased her clear and compelling singing voice. Her finale, ‘The Moving Sand’ was delicately awash with the harp’s loveliness: this enchanting performance was encouraged and then applauded as it came to its natural conclusion.
DAWN LANDES is a New Yorker who followed up with a lullaby opening to a set twanged through delay pedals and spiced with distortion. I’m wondering when was the last time I heard an acoustic guitar distorted, no doubt with jaw dropping as I muse, as she warmed herself into a straight-up country delivery with strong sexual undercurrents. Killer lines like ‘Your eyes were made for seeing things’ and ‘Your dirty hands in make believe jars’ were gorgeously indicative of her slightly drawled and incisive narrative, which seemed on a constant probing hunt for secret truth.
‘Straight Lines’ brought forth resounding applause, and ‘Dark Clouds All Around’ surrendered to the bossa-nova beat. That seminal episode of ‘The Flumps’ never sprang so beautifully to mind as it did now, all wet parades and Chinese dresses. ‘Caroline’ was an ode to a right little hellraiser, as her experimental lyricism came to the fore. To the tap-tapping of a tambourine from one of the drummers present, she finished with the mantra-laden ‘Bodyguard’ and a sweet soulful number that drew forth ever warming appreciation in this pin-dropping atmosphere of breaths held in near-awe. Thank You!!
FIONN REGAN had checked the scenario more than once from the fire exit/dressing room door to the rear of this candlelit basement, perhaps to check that there were still a few biscuits left. Dawn Landes remained stage front to ease the South Dubliner through potential fright on blues harp, as the Bella Union prodigy opened somewhat sorrowfully with ‘Hey Rabbit’. Like a sixties icon, with the legend ‘FR’ daubed onto his two acoustic guitars, the waistcoated storyteller proceeded to wow a captive audience with a stunning yet easy delivery, the set completely open to suggestion. Not a ‘Judas’ cry here, though this ultra-cool audience would not have missed the cue, or a beat of this
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‘The Underwood Typewriter’ was mind blowing, and I felt my held breath bursting through my lungs despite the accompaniment: drums played without sticks, only mitts. The eroticism was full and flourishing as the fingerpicked descent through classical scales reached the pit of my stomach. ‘Put A Penny In The Slot’ slayed me completely: it was just stunning! It stood alone as a testament to the power of acoustic music, all canine taxidermy and seaside resorts closed down for winter.
‘Abacus’ was requested by a female member of this closely-knit audience, who declined graciously when invited to sing the refrain, ahh, bless! Serious again, the squeak of the frets reigned supreme as the lad recounted his post-rave knockout victory during a backs-to-the-wall bout with an ostrich (I’d have liked to see him tangle with the local Llamas!), before dedicating ‘Catacombs’ to the KO’d bird. Priceless!
‘The End Of History’ was also brought to us on the wings of a dove, as the omnipresence of his skyline glance looked downwards from a great height, and not out of an aeroplane window either. I think he finished with ‘Starry Atlas Mountains’, but I cannot be sure as I had long since been lifted out of myself and projected elsewhere, floating blissfully (despite one of me mam’s dinners anchoring me during earlier moments when my feet threatened to leave the ground! Heaven only knows where I’d be now if I’d have sauntered down with only my habitual Sunday fish finger butty inside me!).
I am no aficionado when it comes to folk (You bloody well guessed it too didn’t ya!!). Well then, count me as one of the converted who has been moved by the genre’s ethereal power if you will – this open mind led me not into an open sewer, but paved the road to a moving, magical world of beauty where the compelling lure of this jam couldn’t fail to suck me gently in. This was a class night out in a wonderfully intimate setting; one I was glad not to miss!
http://www.myspace.com/fionnregan
http://www.myspace.com/dawnlandes
http://www.myspace.com/nancyelizabethcunliffe
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