And as before, a Frank Turner show is followed in pretty short order by… a Gaz Brookfield show! Rach and I had a lengthy and in-depth conversation about Frank and Gaz’ evident similarities on the way back from Saturday’s show, my conclusion being that considering their remarkably similar backgrounds (members of former punk bands – who, despite their best efforts and hard graft, never cracked it – turned solo folk-influenced performers) and usual subject matter (staying true to their punk protest roots whilst also drawing from their own life experiences), it’s pretty much a given that there would be musical and thematic similarities. Gaz even acknowledges this fact on his song “Frank And Sam”; however for me Gaz deftly walks that fine line between influence and plagiarism, his own individuality and voice shining through. I’ve certainly got room for both of ‘em in my life, record collection and gig itinerary, me!
This
also being a full band show, there was another incentive (if one be
needed) to attend this gig. So I trundled up the hill early doors under
foreboding skies, hitting the venue for a chat with
“Songs Of Praise” promoters Dave and Ed, fellow veteran gig-goer Stuart
Langsbury, and a few words with Gaz himself, minding the merch stand,
before opener Luke DeSciscio at 9. A raffish tousled gypsy-looking young
chap with a tremulous, haunting voice, straddling
the octaves between soprano and often atonal falsetto, his songs were
minimal guitar embellishments for his talented vocal gymnastics and
softly spoken, often trance-like delivery, as he weaved an eerie,
melancholic atmosphere, which I enjoyed despite the
lack of real hooky tuneage.
By
complete contrast, Lonely Tourist, next up, was all about the tunes and
the banter. Oh, the banter; “I’ll try to make this a referendum-free
zone,” announced the expat Scot, “let’s face it, if
[the vote is] yes, well it’s not you, it’s us, and if it’s no, then
things will have to change!” The erstwhile Mr. Tierney’s short snappy
banter was intermixed with short snappy tunes delivered at a hectic,
rollicking pace, quipping along as he went (“a mad
shagger for President! That’s the kind of country I’d like to live
in!” and “what’s with the dry ice, is Kate Bush on next or what?”). “I
Am A Fly”, which (deliberately?) appropriated the hook from Wire’s “I Am
The Fly”, and the excellently received “The
Ballad Of Paul Tierney” about his journeyman footballer namesake, were
highlights of another entertaining set from the Bristol domiciled Scot
who, as Ed remarked afterwards, “we might have to deport tomorrow!”
Things
cracked on apace, and barely 10 minutes later Gaz and his 5-piece band
were hooked up onstage and ready to rock, in front of a thankfully full
and enthusiastic house. They were in no mood
to fuck about; straight into the ramshackle rollercoaster ride of the
double salvo of “Limelight” and “Land Pirate’s Life”, the crowd already
rocking and singing along, and Gaz feeding off their/our enthusiasm.
This was a damn hot one, the packed house really
cranking up the heat, Gaz remarking on both this and the amazing
Thursday night turnout on a number of occasions. A couple of numbers in,
the differences between Gaz and Frank Turner were becoming evident; Gaz
drawing more from the folkier aspect of his sound,
particularly in a full band setting, with Ben Wain a focal point
throughout with some virtuoso and frantic violin sawing (Gaz remarking
early doors, “I don’t know about you but I could listen to [Ben] all
night!”). After a huge ovation for the opening line
in “Towns”, “I grew up in Swindon…!”, a cacophonous opening guitar
squall and pounding drumbeat led into a tremendous “Black Dog Day”,
delivered with scary, wide-eyed conviction and startling venom by Gaz,
articulating the gravity of the subject matter perfectly
and even giving the energetic singer reason to pause for breath at its’
conclusion. A savage “Be The Bigger Man” followed, equally dramatic and
fiercely delivered. Gaz was totally in the zone for this mid-set
double, no mistake!
We
needed a sway-along “Under The Table” to lighten and diffuse the mood,
then a solo interlude showcasing a new number “I Can’t Drink Cider
Anymore” highlighting Gaz’ recent pancreas and diabetes
problems, which I could empathise with. A half-spoken, confessional
“Tell It To The Beer” evoked a melancholy mood, but Gaz and the band
roared back to round off a startlingly quick hour set with singalong
versions of “The West Country Song” and a ragged set
closer “Diet Of Banality”, before staying on (“is there any point in us
walking off then coming back on again? No? Then we won’t bother…”) for
encore “Thin”, another rousing singalong to close out another tremendous
set from this earnest, punk/ folk influenced
hard-working balladeer and his fine band.
Said
my goodbyes and left, driving home under sheet lightning-lit skies, to
ease my aching limbs into bed (I’d been rocking out throughout from my
front row, stage left spot). Aching knees the next
morning, but Gaz was definitely worth it!
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