Jimmy Stewart @ NorfolkBasement 12/06/08

Sat 14th Jun, 2008 in Gig Reviews

Check out the Photos HERE

” someday we’ll get married in the country with no shoes on…”

Clinkerfield front-man Jimmy Stewart began slowly and perhaps nervously, as the Thursday night audience skulked on the cave-like periphery- playing Gallager, lounging in chairs, trying to decide how the night would go, and whether it would be worth a hangover at work the next day. He began with a song about digging a hole- just to see how far he can dig, and the polite applause did little to spur Stewart’s confidence. Wondering what to play next, he shuffled through what looked like a set list, but turned out to be lyrics scribbled in tiny writing on pages of grubby A4 spread on the ground by his feet. A medicinal shot of tequila imbued him with more confidence and as he played A House is Not a Home the audience were reeled into the unfolding story, drawn closer by his beautiful voice and captivated, watching him coax intricate melodies from his guitar, with seeming little effort. With one boot, he tapped a tambourine for emphasis.

Stewart’s songs are not about earth shattering events or weighty philosophical musings, they are simple slices of a life expressed with a poignancy and a lack of affectation that makes them resonate with the experiences of anyone who catches a line or two. After playing a pirate song, he explained, a little sheepishly, that he was going through a bit of a pirate phase at the moment, and that the song would have made more sense if he was backed by a band of pirates. For a one-man pirate band, he did a convincing job, and the audience seemed to understand the allure of a pirate ditty, so there was really no need to explain. Idle conversation ceased among the onlookers as he sang about the running/walking/dancing journey to making a commitment to just one person in Someday We’ll get Married and he held their full attention for the remainder of the set.

It might sound like Stewart is peddling sad-drunk-man truckin’ songs, and perhaps they could go that way -given a blues harp, a flanny shirt, a cowboy hat, and another couple of acoustic guitars played in unison. Alone however, Stewart’s performance was more like an impromptu bourbon-inspired sing-along, where everyone frees a tear or two, shares a laugh and develops a new respect for – œfolk’ music; A respect, mind you, that rarely lasts past the next folk-singer you see, who stacks cliché upon cliché mixing them up with the wooden spoon of prejudice and serves to make you realise just how good Stewart is; too late alas, since he’s gone home. Luckily, he likes WA and plans to bring his whole band back sometime soon.

The Norfolk Basement had filled up by the end of the set, and the audience chattered their way through the next folk-singing duo whilst waiting to see who the Kill Devil Hills would line up for tonight’s performance. Beginning with a couple of their best dark and dirgy songs, the Kill Devils grabbed hold of the mood left behind by Paul Mcarthy, and drove it out of the city and onto the farm where they had the audience stomping along with acoustic guitar, fiddle and blues harp and clearly deciding that spending Friday hung-over would be worth it after all.