Matinee.
A Matinee!!
Dropping my fish finger butty and reaching for my keys, I was out the house and on the first bus into town just seconds after discovering that The Basement would be on stage at 6pm, allowing N&D’s big screen to show the World Cup Final. It was a pal that phoned me at twenty to six (Thanks Dave!) - thanks to that call, a lunatic fringe bus driver and a mad dash across the middle of Manchester, I was in the venue for 6.20, with the band yet to grace the stage.
And so were about 30 others. The lad on the door reckoned that there was gonna be fun later, as folk began to arrive after the 7.30pm opening time printed on the tickets only to discover that the band sat on chairs at the bar watching the match! You could feel the hasty regret rising like steam from below, as the clock inched its way towards half six, but there were no more arrivals, and so..
On they shuffled, with the place near empty. Unwashed and unshaven, the cultivation of that ‘Life on the Road’ look saw them decked out in shirts their fathers might have given them. Despite their slacker appearance, these boys-next-door tore through their set as fast as their shuffling concoction of country and blues steeped pop would allow.
There are some lovely songs in their repertoire, and as they bounced in unison to the beat as though still children on their daddy’s knees, their charm was evident.
Lead singer John Mullin threw all kinds of shapes as he belted out those far-away lyrics and bashed his acoustic like the proverbial heartfelt troubador. There is a delightful simplicity about Mark McCausland’s lead guitar work, and Declan McManus laid down the beats with a shuffling brush style that interlocked with Graeme Hassall’s ‘bass for beginners’ style pretty neatly.
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There was a keyboard player too, and the warm Hammond grooves sounded pretty fine, giving the tunes that capacity to send you. This was an album/single showcase for their long-awaited debut long-player ‘Illicit Hugs And Playground Thugs’, and the 10th July release of ‘I Just Caught A Face’ from that album. ‘Summertimes’ sounded gorgeous, pure pop with the Hammond echoing a depth charge to the country riffs. Similarly, ‘When Tomorrow Comes’ kicked its way through the saloon doors with ease. It was easy listening for the soul - and like a tour through the record collections of the pre-line-dance country fans in vaults everywhere, it hit the heartstrings every time pretty much accurately.
‘I Just Caught A Face’ saw a change of pace, an extra gear found, and as they bobbed and weaved to the organ, there were times when they looked to forget themselves. Though nothing like cutting edge, the middle of the road has never been such a comfortable place to be. This does not seek to challenge you, just to draw you slowly in, with an easy, affable charm.
Forty five minutes after their first number, they had gone, with the big screen descending on them. Italy are already in front. Musta been hard for them in such a vacuum, but they can play alright, and their songs are well worth hearing.
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