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Daniel Smith & more
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16 January 2008
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Review of January Floor Across a wind and rain-swept landscape the traveler made his way towards the bleak-lit common. Storms had raged throughout the land, trains had been cancelled and tempers frayed. As he approached the little hamlet of St. Michael’s, a light glimmered behind the door of an expansive building. Surely he heard the tinkling of ivories from within? Not only that, an electric guitar was pounding out a gut-bucket R&B riff. Should he go in? As he had left the seminary that afternoon – for ever as he promised himself – he now felt he had nothing to lose. Taking a timid step through the double doors he felt his eardrums assailed by barrel-house boogie-woogie. The piano player was laying down a stupendous double-handed stride figure. ‘Better than Vespers’, reflected our ex-seminarian. The guitarist at first presented as an uber-cool lookout for the Buddy Guy bandwagon (there had been a lot of music magazines in the seminary), but was firing off glissando runs and jazz-inflected solos with considered poise. And that was only the first set. Richard Tatlow was the next artist. He transported us into the world of flamenco, powerful rhythms aided with taps on different points of his guitar which, themselves, rang out in different registers. Chords of many tonalities snuck up on us and surprised our sensibilities. Next up was Glen Glenister, working his own material and deeply influenced by the Delta. His slide-guitar playing had some stratospheric moments and his voice a pleasing crunchy baritone. The poet Liverpool Ken interposed some pithy comments between music acts and had everyone clutching their sides with his delivery and timing. Back on stage came pianist Daniel Smith and guitarist ‘T-bone’ Taylor. “Hallelujah, I just love her so”, and “Key to the highway” were the first two before T-bone took a walk into the audience and came back with two Dutch girls. Daniel at this stage was holding down a minor pentatonic scale with a pint glass, counterpointing his barrel-house boogie with a lilting Scottish badinage. He even translated “Everyday I have the blues” into Dutch. Last I saw before I slipped into unconsiousness was the seminarist who, throwing off the shackles of his calling, was dancing with one of the Dutch girls. Someone whispered in my ear: ‘People used to be hung for having this much fun.’ - Destouches
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