And now for something completely different.
Martin Harley goes Weissenborn-less |
The blues is often described as a simple musical form, but it still
manages to be multi-faceted. So here we
are tonight with Martin Harley and Daniel Kimbro, an unlikely duo hailing from
Woking and Tennessee respectively, and playing Weissenborn lap steel guitar and
stonkingly big double bass. It’s about as
far away from yer average blues rocker as it’s possible to get – but it works.
On the opening ‘Cardboard King’ Harley demonstrates a delicate touch on
his lap steel, while Kimbro bows his bass, giving the song a deep and eerie
undertow. That may all sound a bit
worthy, but the reality is anything but, as they go on to deliver a variety of
material with an air of laconic wit. Their
combined sound is terrific on a jazzy reading of Muddy’s ‘I Can’t Be Satisfied’,
and if they veer uncomfortably close to gypsy jazz on Harley’s own ‘Drumroll
for Somersaults’ then thankfully that’s a one-off. (If you like gypsy jazz then good luck to
you, but I’ve never been a fan.)
‘Automatic Life’ is a good tune though, and stands up well next to a
lovely version of Leadbelly’s ‘Goodnight Irene’, on which Harley executes a
suitably woozy vocal. But on the rattling
‘Money Don’t Matter’ they also show that they can swing plenty, coloured with some
spot on vocal harmonies over the top of the rhythm.
These two li’l ol’ wine drinkers come across just as simpatico as Ian
Siegal and Jimbo Mathus, if without the same degree of ragged charm. They bounce off each other to create great
rhythmic patterns on ‘Chocolate Jesus’ – following an introductory snatch of ‘Eye
Of The Tiger’, just to underline that they don’t take themselves too seriously.
‘Blues At My Window’ starts off seriously slow before bursting into
sudden attack mode, coming off like Tom Waits pouring himself in the door from
the pub and then crashing around the kitchen. But set closer ‘Honey Bee’ buzzes
along brightly in classic acoustic blues territory.
They encore with the similarly charming ‘Love In The Afternoon’, before
tackling the venerable ‘Nobody’s Fault But Mine’, on which it has to be said
they teeter on the edge of self-indulgence with some extended soloing that
might have been better placed earlier in their set. But that doesn’t alter the sense that these
guys offer some distinct and different pleasures.
Gary Martin blows that thing |
The Neil Warden/Gary Martin Trio – and guys, you really have got to get
yourselves a better name than that – provide suitably imaginative support. For a start Neil Warden is also toting a
Weissenborn lap steel – like buses, they evidently all come along at once – and
with Martin on harp and vocals and Jim Walker on drums their take on ‘Goin’
Down South’ is subtle, supple, and rhythmic.
Their variation on Muddy Waters’ ‘I’m Ready’ is measured and restrained,
with heavy reverb on Warden’s guitar and Walker using brushes on drums, and the
mood extends into the smoky New Orleans jazz feel of ‘Sexy Black Dress’, on
which they’re joined by John Burgess on clarinet, duetting neatly with Martin’s
harp.
Neil Warden goes Weissenborn |
When Warden goes electric on ‘Red Hot Mama’ they really start swinging
though, with the guitar and drums locked into an addictive groove while Martin
gets busy with a Hornet mic for both his harp and vocals. ‘The Dream’ is a slower affair, with Warden
reverting to lap steel and working up a spooky level of reverb in the manner
of Link Wray on ‘Rumble’.
They finish up with a couple of songs harking back to Martin and
Warden’s past endeavours with the late Tam White. They work up a funky head of steam on ‘Working
Class White Boy’, Martin selling the song with a punchy vocal, and then close
with the brooding slow stomper of ‘Stonemason’s Blues’, a belter of a song
showing off White’s quality as a writer.
I don’t know if Warden, Martin and Walker plan to make this a regular
thing, but this was certainly an entertaining and interesting diversion from
the norm.
Glasgow’s Gus Munro opens the evening, playing solo on electric guitar,
and also conjuring up a singular sound. Making
use of echo he layers guitar sounds nicely, with slide as the cherry on top.
Singing repeated refrains in his slightly vulnerable voice he goes for a hypnotic
vibe at times, to good effect on his ‘Fossil Grove’, inspired by Big George
Watt’s song of the same name. But he
also gies it laldy on ‘Leaving Trunk Blues’, with some hammering rhythm guitar
to complement a slice of falsetto vocal.
Like the acts to follow, he does a good job of exploring a road less
travelled.