If I ever became a singer-songwriter (don't worry, being unable to sing and rubbish at rhymes it seems highly unlikely), I wouldn't want to get too famous. I wouldn't want to play cold, hollow stadiums or large capacity venues that smell of flat beer, vomit and piss (to uninterested, 'entertain me!' audiences who largely smell the same). I'd much prefer it if I developed a strong, loyal fanbase that was just big enough to allow me to pick and choose high quality muso-friendly venues where respectful, seated audiences hung on my every note without a glass in their hand.
For the next three weeks, I'll be visiting Manchester's Royal Northern College of Music, which is just that sort of venue, to see three just-successful-enough singer songwriters ply their trade to people who actually want to listen. The first of these was last Friday night, the UK's best contemporary female lyricist and performer, Thea Gilmore.
With a set largely made up from her current album, Murphy's Heart, plus selected treats from her back catalogue, Thea and band gave this show all they had - and the RNCM rewarded them with some of the best acoustics I've ever heard. No wonder Thea chose to end the show with a solo acapella song rather than a barnstorming rocker, there's not many venues where such a decision would be prudent, but here it sent us home with tears in our eyes. After another soul-destroying week at the pit-face (with no Chilean rescue parties in sight), it was just what I needed.
UPDATE... I just realised this is my 1000th post on Sunset Over Slawit.
Wow.
And they said I'd never achieve anything!
