Arriving a little early, and with it being a bit on the parky side, me and Nads headed straight downstairs for a steaming cup of tea and the most enormous bit of sponge cake from The Nice Green Café. There's been a definite improvement at the CSH café in the last few years - it used to look a bit on the glum side, but nothing a lick of paint and a bit of cheery bunting couldn't fix (and I should know - I am, after all, expert on triangular-shaped-stuff-on-a-string).
Mmmmm. And a nice bit of Anthony Burrill too.
Two acts on the bill - first onstage, Rachel Dadd. I've heard Rachel before, but I've not had the pleasure of seeing her live. She's an odd little creature and at first I couldn't quite work her accent out. It seems this may be because she spends much time living in Japan, so maybe she picked up an inflection. Bristolian mixed with Japanese - not a combo you hear every day. She has a sweet voice, clear and pure - I like it when she's accompanied by a clarinetist, it works well. I've quite a fondness for fairylike creatures sporting odd knitwear too, me.
Just before the main attraction, I catch Howard Local in the foyer. There is a slight altercation, when he threatens to twat me with his iPhone - but it's just high jinks and I live to tell the tale. The Local are Sam Amidon's booker for UK shows and I'm very glad they are. Thanks to them, I've seen Sam three times in the past six weeks. The first time I ever saw Sam play was at a sold-out Bush Hall a few years ago - a dream bill of Thomas Bartlett, David Thomas Broughton and Sam Amidon (and a spot of Nico Muhly). They were spectacular, particularly when they collaborated on one song, with DTB wandering round the audience to sing, creeping up behind me, making me jump by hitting a high note right in my ear. Top.
Fond memories.
Aside from EOTR this year, I also saw Sam perform at a special Sunday screening of Tim Plester's documentary 'The Way Of The Morris' at The Phoenix cinema in Finchley a couple of weeks ago. If you get chance, and are even remotely interested in the rich heritage of folk music in our country and the traditions surrounding it that deserve celebration and keeping alive, then watch this beautifully and lovingly crafted film. Tim Plester is a funny, smart cookie - he's created a lovely paean to the country tradition of Morris dancing, telling a poignant tale of his own family's Morris involvement in the Oxfordshire village of his birth. It's charming, funny, human and not remotely dry or dull. Had me welling up at one point (and I know I wasn't alone). Sam played a live set after the film - think a few of the old folkers in the audience didn't quite see the fun in Sam going a bit Les Dawson on his fiddle at one point, but it tickled me.
Sam's set last night at CSH was the best I've seen him play. He holds me spellbound from the second he takes to the stage. Not just because he's obscenely talented (he plays guitar, fiddle and banjo - all of them superlatively well), but because I know there's a fiercely super-bright mind in that head, and he has a verbal performance to match his musical virtuosity. He goes off on a lengthy monologue about being in the woods late at night, searching for inspiration for writing a book - this tale just builds and builds, and seems a little unhinged, but then he brings it back to earth, it's all so cleverly done and I can't take my eyes off him, compelled to watch, wondering what he'll do or say next.
**NEWSFLASH - WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST WITH A 'WHAT THE FUCK?'**
I was just doing a bit of a nosy round for a nice pic of Sam, or bit of footage of him being brilliant on some instrument or another, when I saw a headline on The Quietus telling me the Jeff Mangum ATP in December has been moved to March next year. I'm most displeased, but will restrain my ire in case someone (Jeff or his family) is in the midst of some awful crisis. I sincerely hope that's not the case.
If, on the other hand, I find out it's cancelled because Mr Mangum has forgotten the chords to 'Two-Headed Boy' and is suffering a spot of stagefright, I'm posting him a mousetrap in a jiffy bag. Or much worse.
**NORMAL SERVICE WILL RESUME SHORTLY**
Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, a big wordwank about Sam Amidon.
His performance is aided by appearances from Chris Vatalaro on drums (very good, nice use of hands and brushes), then some dude who Sam reckons played the organ at Will & Kate's Big Fat Royal Wedding this year (not sure this was true - but the chap could certainly play his tiny keyboard beautifully), and then some bird who turned up at the hall at about 9pm pushing a baby in a pram. Turned out to be bloody voice-of-an-angel Beth Orton (confession time - I frowned severely at pram and child appearing in the hall, thinking "who brings a baby out at this time? Idiots."). I'm treated to two of my favourite songs, 'Wedding Dress' and 'Saro', and my evening is at a perfect end.
Just beautiful.
Leaving the venue, I bump into the very charming Will Pull Up The Roots. The last time I saw him was at Luminaire's funeral and I was much the worse for wear (and booze). This clearly hasn't ruined our friendship, as he gifts me a bit of forthcoming secret gig info which almost has me skipping all the way home. I'm a lucky girl and it was a very lovely evening.
(Postscript: whilst scoffing that cake and drinking the tea, I was pleased to see that Morris dancing classes were taking place in one of the small halls by the café. And as I peeked through the glass door, I see my dear pal Northern Tim with hankies in hand, strutting his Morris stuff. This only made my evening more complete. Having watched the 'Way Of The Morris' documentary so recently, then to see the tradition of Morris dancing being kept alive by a thoroughly good bloke (with the most excellent taste in original 70s denim and suede) made me really happy. Keep up the good Morris work, our Tim - I promise I won't pull your leg about it ever again...because it might have bells on.)
