The last time I played at The Railway I was greeted with a warm, supportive and listening crowd. A community of music lovers that seem to have an understanding and respect to really give attention to the band or musician playing. (which can be often lost in pubs) It was really appreciated. There was a kind of intensity about the atmosphere, which somehow meant the songs connected more. I think i may have gained a few more listeners. I had some great compliments and shifted a few CD’s – a great start to my five days with Bruntnell. Emily Barker and her band were up after me followed by Pete and his murder of crows. Emily sounds great, worth checking out.
Pete played a superb set of new and old, the highlight for me was his new song “black window” (i think it was called.) Dave and Danny coloured in the sound to perfection.
I’m liking this live blogging thing, don’t want to get carried away though. Not sure what else to write. May need some sugestions of the kind of things you would want to know about. London beckons. Speak soon. Jim
AMERICANA UK REVIEW -
Peter Bruntnell Band + Emily Barker & Red Clay Halo + Jim Jones – Railway Inn, Winchester – 10th March 2009-
Review by Mike Plumbley
Tonight was a classic gig from beginning to end. I like to get to the Railway early be sure to catch the opening act, tuck myself in close to the stage in this haven from the blare of soulless beer joints, among a tight knit crowd out for a night of great music. And this trio of acts in from the road bring it on in style.
Jim Jones, like Peter Bruntnell and band, is up from Devon. The songs are deep and heartfelt, he’s unrushed in uncoiling them and they sink right in on a first listening. A song or so in, he’s joined by Dave Little, who plugs in an electric guitar and adds a haunting line to The Road To You. I’m stood there, cradling my cheap Mexican beer, listening to the guitar work and song thinking of how Ray Wylie Hubbard once described Terry Buffalo Ware’s playing as ‘tearing off little fragments of his soul to colour the songs.’ Phew, the bar was set and it never fell. The song of Jim Jones that convinced me to part with my folding stuff was Evelyn. A good friend had a bad time of it last year, her name is Evelyn. I think she’ll love the song as much as I love the new album Daylight and Stars, recalling as it does the tone and swell of this great opening set.
It took a bit of sound checking to sort out Emily Barker and Red Clay Halo. There was fiddle, flute, accordion, cello and Emily Barker’s guitar and the sound guy got it spot on as far as I can tell. ‘The bottom was low and the treble’s clear’ as Townes would have said. Emily Barker is an Australian who’s been here for a while, but I hadn’t realised she and the Red Clay Halo did the theme to the ‘Wallander’ detective series.
The classical ambience of the girls lent itself to Emily’s gentle voice and the music and singing was evocative of the song of the Sirens that bewitches the hobo in the Cohen’s ‘Brother Where Art Thou’. The combination of flute with fiddle and cello really worked with Emily Barker’s vocal, it was all subtle and superbly sung and played.
As complement to the final act, both opening sets were perfect and as the Peter Bruntnell Band moved onto the stage, I began to think back to a time when I spent time more time in the Metropolis than I do now. I’m thinking of the night a young unknown songwriter called Slaid Cleaves from New Hampshire opened at the Borderline, followed by Carrie Newcomer and her band, ably helped out by Terry Buffalo Ware before that ‘dangerous spirit’ Ray Wylie Hubbard took the stage and poured out that Oklahoma hoodoo rhythm he carries with him deep from the heart of Texas.
There was a symmetry about that evening which was being repeated right before me tonight. The Peter Bruntnell Band are a trio, a dangerously spirited trio who began with an almost raga like riff that resounded off the walls. I am in awe of it from the opening bars right to the end of the night. The way Dave Little opens up the heart of Peter Bruntnell’s songs with his lead guitar licks and touches of Indian harmonium and how Danny Williams’ double bass lines tug against the syllables and underpin the vocal with gorgeous deep mellow bowed notes.
There is just a natural sense of energy about this band and Peter Bruntnell’s songs shine, his laconic sense of story, time and space fits it all like a glove. I know next to nothing about him, save he comes up from Devon and shares his songwriting with a transatlantic soul brother called Bill Ritchie.
What he and his band bring to this small back bar is a kind of gem plucked out of the ether: beautifully crafted songs, performed with a passion and honed and coloured by the road dirt on them. Were she not up in the metropolis my daughter would have flipped tonight to have heard Peter Bruntnell sing ‘Close of Winter’ and ‘Sea of Japan’ from the latest album, ‘Peter and The Murder of the Crows’. He sang them with an aching grace that had stunned her the first time she heard them.
Amongst the set, ‘John’ remains for me one of those turns in the road that leads to the unexpected. Peter Bruntnell explains that he wrote it after watching the Johnny Cash biopic ‘Walk The Line’. influenced by a tale “which may not be true but it’s a good story . . . Elvis wrote love letters to June Carter and Johnny found them and threw them in the river . . .”. A cracking story and a belting song, which has that kind of Sun Studio, Memphis backbeat to it that makes you want to head straight back to Tennessee.
It was a gem of a set, littered with pearls and very little chat; the songs, as they say, said it all. Unexpected was the encore of a Roy Harper song about autumn and a final couple of classic song from the Bruntnell back catalgue. The hour was late and, long overdue, I took home a copy of Ghost In A Spitfire.
I miss a lot of trains, but then I catch some blinders too. Like the dangerous spirits in from the road tonight.
