Monday, 5 October 2009

Nothing in this Tiny Town can bring me down...

And who says I can't commit? Week one of this blog and I'm crumbling against a corrupt hard drive on my laptop, a busy work schedule and broadband connection flakier than finely shaved hard mozarella.
But I hope this post will make like Craig David and "Fill you in"...


Last week I was a corporate slave to the job until Thursday rolled around and nibbled me on the butt cheek and my good Northern Monkey friend Kelly came to stay as she was in la-la-la-London for work. I had booked for us, my flatmate Lady and our good friend Bella to go to a gig at Bush Hall, one of my favourite music venues not only in the Bush, but in London, UK and possibly beyond. The attraction was a Dutch musician I had been cyber stalking for sometime, Wouter Hamel. His albums have been produced by Benny Sings, another musical fellow from the Nederlands I've long been obsessed with - in a purely musically appreciative way. I don't know where either of them live (but Holland is small right?).


I'm no music critic, which is just as well as we arrived long after the support act finished. However Wouter (not that I've confirmed we're on first name terms) and his 5 merry men of incredible musical talent stole a small piece of my heart that night. Wouter's voice alone (Sinatra meets Jamie Cullum and has coffee with John Mayer and Michael Buble) could have charmed my socks onto his bedroom floor and yet there was more to his appeal. Dare I say it, there was a strong influence of good old fashioned romance-loaded jazz and swing. Wouter and his oh so subtle accent were surprisingly uncontrived, sweet, warm and sincere and his music was that and much more. Highlights for me were the barber-shop quartet style "March, April, May", the generously jolly song about a friend who parties too hard "Breezy" and then a moment of poignancy when he sang "Tiny Town", supposedly about a small village in Holland where he writes a lot of his songs. I've always fallen in love with places, cities, views, hence this recent compulsion to blog about She Bu, so I understand and admire writing a song about somewhere instead of the usual someone.


Now seems a good a time as any to inform you that I'm not adverse to a foreign male, and Dutchies are certainly not bottom of the list. I left the gig feeling giddy about the music and the man and yet somewhat frustrated as I didn't have his CD to listen to at home as both his albums have yet to be released in UK.


An altogether different feeling was literally just around the corner as we four somehow (ahem) stumbled into Walkabout on our way home. I went from bopping to high quality 40s style croon-along swing to ending the night dancing to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" with an Australian who had an actual shark bite scar. A true "I love the Bush" moment...