William Poyer - Born Talented

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Americana music has always appealed to me.

I think it’s the spirit of travel and escapism it evokes and the heady blend of country, folk, R&B and blues amongst others. Discovering artists that brilliantly represent this genre of music always makes me feel gratified and William Poyer is no exception. Thanks to Brixton-based independent label Laid Bare Records, it’s possible to be transported to his evocative world without even leaving the house.

Famous for the Laid Bare Live acoustic gigs, which have attracted a cult following on the London music scene, Laid Bare Records is fast becoming a recognised staple for launching up-and-coming talent and is proud to support quality independent artists - which can only be a good thing.

William is a Welsh-born singer/storywriter who has just returned from a three-year stint in Mexico, departing on a journey of discovery and with the intention of honing a sound unique to him. It's safe to say his mission has been accomplished with the launch of his stunning first single, Fell The Truth at the end of April from the debut album Born Lucky.

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Written during his time in Mexico, Born Lucky is an impressive, seven-track collection of acoustic music that demonstrates a genuine attention to his craft. I love the backstory to the inaugural single Fell The Truth as well as the track itself. A chance read by William about a case involving a criminal found guilty of murder who was acquitted on appeal years later, only to finally admit to the murder on his deathbed, inspired him to write the single.

The track explores the psyche of the man involved and is told from the first-person perspective, and although the case was UK-based, it is deeply inspired by Poyer’s time in North America lending itself well to the Americana theme. Has a whiff of Making a Murderer about it, don’t you think?  The accompanying video is directed by Carlos A. Corona San Pedro.

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I listened to Born Lucky on repeat at least three times over, the sounds and images of driving, melodic Americana running in my head as I wrote this post from the comfort of my house in London, E17 and pretended it was me in that cracking outfit that Paulina Barcelo wears in the video to Two Days Later.

The album makes for a compelling acoustic collection and also demonstrates William's talent for songwriting. Stand out tracks for me include Makings of a Man with a catchy hook that inhabits your mind cheerfully after just one listen (I can cheat, I can steal, I’ve got the Makings of a Man in me) and the brilliantly titled The Liars, The Bitches, The Crooks and The Thieves.

After a successful Album Launch Party and Laid Bare Showcase at Brixton East on 28 April, which sadly I had to miss, I’m hoping to catch William at one of his upcoming  shows:

The Pack & Carriage, Mornington Crescent – 7 May 2016

Century Club, Soho – 12 May 2016

The Sunday Social at Old Queens Head, Angel – 15 May 2016

Nozstock Festival, Herefordshire – 22, 23, 24 July 2016

Born lucky? Born talented.

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Conveying great emotion through its storytelling, the guitar chords transported us to Poyer's world. So much so, the audience wouldn't allow him to say goodbye without asking for one last piece."

Sofar Sounds, Mexico

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Don Letts at Punk London and a very special trip on the London Eye...

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Punk.London has crashed noisily into London, bringing with it a year of events, gigs, films, talks, exhibits and more. All in celebration of 40 years of punk, the genre-busting cultural phenomenon that allowed a whole generation to speak up without submission.

The capital’s cultural organisations will tell the story of punk through art, design, film, fashion, literature, photography and, of course, music - fantastic.

Fittingly, it's not without controversy; Joe Corré, son of late Sex Pistols manager Malcolm McLaren and Designer and Businesswoman Dame Vivienne Westwood is planning to burn his collection of punk memorabilia, estimated to be worth around £5m, in protest that Punk.London has been backed by The Queen. “The Queen giving 2016, the year of punk, her official blessing is the most frightening thing I’ve ever heard. Talk about alternative and punk culture being appropriated by the mainstream". A true demonstration of anarchy or a bit of a spoilsport? You decide.

One of the many features that intrigues me the most is Don Letts Presents Punk on Film at the BFI on 1 August 2016. Director, DJ and musician Letts will host his curated season of exciting films that highlight the diversity of the punk movement, including the intersections between the Jamaican music scene and punk. Not to be missed.

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Last summer I took a captivating trip on the London Eye to hear him open his mind (and heart) about the iconic Joe Strummer, co-f0under of The Clash, as part of the 32 Londoners series on assignment for RockShot Magazine.

It seemed a good time to revisit my exciting trip...

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I’m ashamed to admit a mild fear of heights. On a supposedly ordinary Tuesday evening, as I gazed up at the gigantic Ferris wheel looming on London’s Southbank, all 135m of it framed by a glorious blue sky, I started to wonder if I had the stomach for it.

I needn’t have worried. Any acrophobic fears evaporated as I hopped on board The Eye just as the capsule doors closed and the sight of the indelible Don Letts came into view. It was clear this was no ordinary Tuesday evening.

I was embarking on a very special rotation for a preview of 32 Londoners, returning following last year’s sell out programme. The prestigious event features 32 talks held in each of the London Eye’s 32 capsules on 32 extraordinary Londoners. This year’s subject is Adopted Londoners, with expert speakers celebrating iconic figures, past and present, who were born outside of the city but came to be associated with it.

With its great history of cultural diversity, London has long been a beacon, attracting the great and the good to its streets. No more fitting a subject than the fascinating Joe Strummer of The Clash, punk rock’s most political vocal outfit, and whose story remains a permanent feature in London’s rich tapestry. Who better to captivate the audience with his story than British musician, DJ and film director Don Letts, born and bred in the city, and a strong influence on the band.

As we orbited, Letts opened his story with references to his Grammy Award winning film The Clash: Westway to the World and Julien Temple’s film Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten. We were introduced to Strummer’s exotic childhood spent in several different countries thanks to his British Diplomat father, a strained relationship with his non-musical parents and feelings of abandonment.

We got a sense of what built Strummer’s character – exposure to multifarious cultures from a young age, the rebellious streak caused by a loss of faith in formal education and subsequent immersion into music and a ruthless desire for reinvention inspired by the sounds of rock and roll and American folk hero Woody Guthrie. Letts asked the captive audience to draw our own conclusions from life-changing events in the musician’s life; like the correlation between the suicide of his National Front supporting older brother and Strummer’s lifelong fight against racism.

London didn’t disappoint with its magnificent views (as standard) and neither did the orator as he gave us a musical history lesson, bringing the lecture to life with vivid imagery. Strummer listening to Big Youth’s Screaming Target (supposedly on acid one Christmas in Wales) and his first proper band the 101ers, so called after the address of the squat they were living in, 101 Walterton Road.

We went back to 1976; the 101ers playing at the Nashville Room, supported by an unknown new band, the Sex Pistols, where Strummer first caught the eye of Mick Jones and Paul Simonon. History in the making right there and then, as they realised Strummer had the makings of a dynamic frontman and was possibly their missing link. We learnt about Strummer’s radical and ruthless move to join The Clash, including cutting off friends, band members and girlfriends and undertaking a legendary 200 plus drummer auditions to find the vehicle that would make him famous.

With an obvious interest in style (his London clothing store Acme Attractions enticed the likes of the Clash, Sex Pistols and Chrissie Hynde in the mid-1970s), Letts remarked how Simonon was responsible for the most part with the look of the Clash which, to his mind, was inseparable from their sound in a very English way; ‘they looked like they sounded, they sounded like they looked and with Mick Jones, Joe had found his McCartney, his Richards’.

Letts had an articulate and thespian delivery; it was impossible not to be enthused as he referred to The Clash as ‘four sticks of dynamite. They looked good, oozed attitude, sounded f*cking awesome and importantly their songs were about stuff’. With songs like White Riot and London’s Burning, their music seemed like the soundtrack for the climate of the times; ‘music of the people, by the people, for the people’.

There was a noticeable twinkle in his eye as he talked about songs that dealt with politics, social injustice, cultural apathy. As The Eye sliced through the London skyline, Letts took us through important milestones in the Clash’s rich history; signing for CBS in January 1977 which the punk rock purists thought signified the death of punk, the eponymous debut studio album for the label which included a cover of Junior Murvin’s Police & Thieves) and the influence behind one of their most enduring songs (White Man) in Hammersmith Palais; written by Strummer after Letts took him to the infamous venue.

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He reminisced about their third album London Calling with lyrics he described as having a ‘musical reportage quality about it’ and their fourth triple album, Sandinista!, which they promoted in 1981 with a historic and exhausting 17-night back to back stint at Bond International Casino in New York. They were supported by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, who the audience welcomed with boos, but Strummer and the band were quick to run out and defend theirs guests. They were way ahead of their game before the explosion of hip hop and rap a few years later.

By 1982, America was under their spell with the release of the last proper Clash album, Combat Rock but when Letts talked about cracks showing in the band’s exterior – drug habits, a relentless work rate, Strummer going into hiding and the eventual disbanding in 1986, he drew from his own personal experiences and appeared genuinely sombre. We heard about the formation of the Mescaleros in the 1990s and releasing Rock Art and the X-Ray Style and Global a Go-Go, and Strummer finding his mojo again by the end of the 20th century; something, Letts noted, he didn’t think he’d ever really seen.

Inevitably, the magic had to end. Strummer’s last stage performance in 2002 was a benefit for the striking fireman, at the Acton Town Hall in London, the show that would also see him play with Mick Jones for the first time in almost 20 years. Sadly, Strummer passed away a few months later with an undiagnosed heart defect at the age of 50. At his funeral, attended by two dozen firemen in full uniform who he had played for earlier that month, a stetson sat on top of the coffin adorned with the words Question Authority. Ask me Anything.

The event was undeniably informative, but it was the way Letts peppered the talk with anecdotes and personal memories delivered with a smile in that rich, distinctive London accent (like when Strummer ran off with his girlfriend) that made it so endearing. He gave us a unique insight into the real Joe; someone who spent all night after gigs talking to anybody that wanted to speak to him with a ‘never ending source of relentless energy that was absolutely infectious’. An interest in what punk rock could be, as opposed to what it was. Someone who was far from perfect but that was OK to Letts; that meant keeping Strummer’s memory alive in a practical and very real way – something to aspire to.

Most powerfully for me was how Letts presented Strummer’s legacy as a constant inspiration. ‘Because he believed in music as a tool for social change, not just a soundtrack to passive consumerism. Because he was living proof that music didn’t just reflect change, it could affect change too’. The audience enthralled, he asked us, to consider ‘…in this cultural climate that feels like punk rock that didn’t happen where are the Joe Strummer’s of today?’

As our very special rotation drew to a close and we touched back down again in 2015, Letts ended his speech with a simple denouement, gazing out at the city surrounding us in all its glory. ‘Strummer, The Don salutes you’.

As do we, Don Letts, as do we. Thanks for the memories.

This feature first appeared on RockShot here.

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How to Build A Girl

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A Caitlin Moran book (any, I’m not fussed) has been on my reading wish-list forever.

Gatwick Airport, back in the hazy summer of 2015. Instead of perusing WHSmith's reading selection fastidiously I flew about recklessly grabbing magazines from the shelves as if I were a contestant on Supermarket Sweep, buying an over-sized bottle of water just to nab a free Telegraph and seizing the first book within reach. Knowing full well I was due in Departures NOW.

"Ah, a Moran!" said my brain, as the bright lemon cover of How to Build a Girl caught my eye. "That'll be a good start". (Swiftly followed by "Argh, where's my sodding boarding pass?!").

Well, what a cracking start to #MissionMoran it proved to be. I chomped through HTBAG in two days flat on holiday, effectively ignoring my husband on the Santorini beach as he splashed about in the sea dejectedly with a snorkel and a sunburnt back. Under the cool shade, I snorted with laughter. Blubbed. Reminisced. Felt exuberant. Wrote a whole blog post about it rather than just a section on My 2015 Media Diet.

Off the bat, I knew this was my kind of book and that Johanna Morrigan was my kind of protagonist. She is inquisitive, imaginative, bright as a button and eager to learn about EVERYTHING on the fringe of her, at times, rather shit life on a Wolverhampton council estate with an unconventional family. When we first meet Johanna she is fourteen and wants to build a new girl. She escapes to London to work in the music press. It is the 1990s.

This is why I loved it.

There are laugh-out-loud bits in abundance. ‘“My life is basically The Bell Jar written by Adrian Mole” remarks Johanna. There are references to Mark Curry and DJ Mike Read of Radio 1 fame which sparked fond memories of being an awkward adolescent and growing up in 80s/90s Britain. Dogs that look like Limahl. Pebble Mill. McDonald’s’ Hamburglar. Family weddings where Star Trekkin’ by the Firm is played. Biscuit tins that emit a piggy snort when a biscuit is taken (“which even my balmy exuberance can't help but interpret as slightly judgemental”). There are way too many funny bits to mention here without ruining your fun, it is swarming with them. The whole book is a funny bit.

Yes, there is bleakness, inequality and the class divide but dealt with in a brilliantly witty way. It’s been said there are semi-autobiographical undertones to HTBAG, reflecting Moran’s own upbringing in a council house in Wolverhampton and a career that started in music journalism, but she is insistent in the Author Note that it is a fictitious work. Desperate to escape the drudgery of daily life and shoplifting black Rimmel eyeliner from the chemist, Johanna’s key goal is to move to London and be hot; fourteen of course being the age when looking hot is everything. She imagines London will be like a very large room and “on walking in, the entire city will go ‘COR! BLIMEY! YOU DON’T GET MANY OF THEM TO THE PAHND! like Sid James”. Back on the chic Greek beach, far far away from London, Sid and cockney accents and surrounded by bronzed, oiled goddesses drinking iced coffee, I laughed my head off.

There are touchingly affecting moments. Johanna’s family are skint, completely and desperately skint. She enters a competition for 'budding young Midlands' poets' to save the family and win a cheque for £250 which also includes the opportunity to read the poem out on Midlands Weekend, watched by pretty much everyone in the West Midlands. With a steely determination, a hugely clever brain and the worry of money hanging over her head, she wins. Moran’s description of Johanna’s TV appearance is lively, poignant and sharply observed but when Johanna sees herself through the camera’s monitor after not really having seen herself before (there are no mirrors at home) she sees an appearance she considers pale, round faced, fat and not beautiful at all and feels her heart break, it is a genuinely moving moment. Eventually, the £250 prize money goes to Johanna’s Dad - £190 to fix the car, £30 on the overdraft and £30 in The Red Lion.

There is heaps of unapologetic sex and masturbation - the latter on page one no less. Upon reviewing How to Be a Woman, Germaine Greer wondered if Moran would regret talking about masturbation so openly, but I applaud her bravery. To the best of my knowledge she is the only person who could include a reference to a googly-eyed draft excluder in a romping, raucous sex scene.

Yet, I was mostly drawn like a magnet to the music references which I soaked up like a sponge. When Johanna decides resolutely to upgrade herself, to build a new girl so as not to be her anymore, she creates an alter-ego named Dolly Wilde (after Oscar Wilde’s niece) and feverishly sets out to "be a self-made woman…to conjure myself, out of every sparkling, fast-moving thing I can see". She discovers records shops (which she observes are "not for womenfolk"), free music magazines, John Peel, NME and Melody Maker in the Central Library, the riot grrrl movement, and so much more and there she has it - her way out. After two years of building Dolly, she bags an interview at Disc & Music Echo and this is where the real fun and discovery begins.

There were so many things I could relate to in sixteen year old Johanna, now as a thirty-seven year old woman, whose version of the Central Library in 2016 is Spotify, Twitter, online magazines and going to gigs and soaking up everything there is to know about old and new music.

Going for an interview as a music journalist in London is exactly what I wanted to be doing when I was a mid to late teenager, possibly a direct result of having read every single issue of Smash Hits magazine religiously before it went out of publication. I was already in the Big Smoke of course, but wearing a Benetton jumper and sporting a crunchy perm. Inspired by the grunge movement I then started wearing clumpy boots and being morose and listening to Nirvana and going to parties with my friends and head banging to impress the boys at our youth club. Then having to have a can of Deep Heat sprayed on my neck the next day to ease the pain of turning my head from side to side.

When Johanna attends her first ever gig as a writer to see The Smashing Pumpkins it is described so gorgeously (only Moran could take the intense, pushing, leading dance of a mosh to be a tradition for the opening song and compare it to ‘Oops Upside Your Head’ at a wedding when everyone rows across the floor), that it evoked memories of me covering my first ever gig for Jazz FM. I was ridiculously excited, terrified, out of my depth, scribbling words into a notebook, drinking copiously. Grinning a lot at strangers.

Selfishly, I also thought it was only me who went to gigs and got slightly angry with everyone else for being into the singer they thought was their special secret. When Joanna attends John Kite’s gig, after striking up a friendship with the boozy, filthy, voluble singer and falling hopelessly in love with him, the description is dreamy and powerful and perfectly evokes the ‘EVERYTHING IS SO UNBELIEVABLY AMAZING AND IMPORTANT’ feeing that dominated my early teens (and hormones). I read this passage at the top of a rock on Ancient Thera, an antique city on the ridge of the Messavouno mountain on Santorini, surrounded by undulating rocks and the twinkling Aegean Sea as we waited for the mini bus in the shade sheltered from the blistering sun. Yet in my head I was in the loud and hot Irish theatre watching John Kite from the sidelines, crying.

So, in summary, HTBAG, made my heart hurt with happiness and at times, despair. Let’s face it, we’ve all been Johanna Morrigan at some point in our life, trying to be someone we’re not and learning painfully but excitingly along the way. Maybe we still are.

It is hard to put into words how enjoyable it is and in fear of sounding too effusive, I’ll leave the clever words to Moran. All I know is this book which moves with such velocity with its humour, intelligence and bang on take on modern feminism made me feel inexplicably, ridiculously happy and light.

Often my regret in not going to university, instead deferring my place at Chichester to study Women's Studies and English Literature and never going, rears its ugly head. Then I recall from an interview that Moran didn’t go to uni and, well, she's a f***king genius so who the heck cares.

Newly added to the Moran wish-list is Moranifesto, which I understand features 'the same old ass-hats'. I can't wait.

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Laid Bare Live - Winter Rooftop Vibes

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A few weeks back (ARGH, WHERE DID JANUARY GO?) I had the pleasure of spending the night at Century, a members club hidden behind a inconspicuous door on London's Shaftesbury Avenue.

I was there not just to revel in the swish surroundings but specifically for Laid Bare Live, a brilliant live music night offering up the best unsigned musicians, singers and poets this great city has produced and providing a platform for up-and-coming talent to play to the masses. Luckily for the music heads, it's a regular monthly event and I think you should check it out.

Firstly, some history. Laid Bare Live began as an open mic night in 2013 at The Ritzy in BrixtonSouth London organised by the polymathic Rami Radi - a Brixton-based musician, producer and mixer, editor, podcast host and cameraman. Rami was inspired by his time organising music nights at university and participating in open mic nights in London. With drive and passion, in time he developed the event into an acoustic night called Laid Bare Live, sourcing and securing a multifarious group of talented acts along the way.

Laid Bare has been going strong for two years and in January Rami built on its strong foundations with the creation of a record label called Laid Bare Records. The label recently celebrated its first EP release from singer-songwriter Chris Belson, the exquisite Moon Songs, with a sound being compared to Radiohead.

Laid Bare Live now boasts additional residencies at eclectic venues such as Brixton East, Fu Manchu Bar and Hackney Attic. Each show is carefully curated by Rami with quality performances from local artists showcasing their talent.

My first Laid Bare experience was memorable. Century club is beautiful in its own right, boasting four floors including a cocktail lounge, two restaurants, a screening bar and a performance stage but Rami’s decision to host his event up on the covered roof terrace, apparently Soho’s largest, was inspired. 

With exposed brickwork chimneys, a scattering of fairy lights and unbeatable views of London Town in all its glory, when you reach the top you have to stop and take it all in for a minute before even thinking about the bar. It's intimate without being poky and with lanterns emanating a warm wintry glow it creates the perfect setting for great live music. 

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With the quality of musicians on offer, a guest list available at just £3 upon request and THAT venue it’s easy to see why Rami draws a crowd - and a friendly, unpretentious one at that, happily chatting in between acts and grabbing a beer. 

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On the night all the artists and their acoustic sets were brilliant, but it was Daniel Greenwood whose music seemed to stay with me afterwards. He has a lovely Dylan-esque sound, plays the harmonica like a pro, and his cover of Ryan Adams’ Come Pick Me Up had me scrambling around on YouTube to hunt it down.

Rami-line-up

The next Laid Bare event is at Century on Thursday 18 February 2016 and will feature Harry Pane (catch him before he plays at Glastonbury this year) William Poyer, Archie Sylvester and Days are Done.  

Doors open at 7pm, don’t be late now…

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Highlight of 2015: Collaboration with RockShot Magazine

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Happy New Year and here's to a happy, healthy and positive 2016.

One of my personal highlights of 2015 was watching Material Whirl grow and to collaborate with online music Magazine, RockShot. You can read my profile and my work to date here:

http://rockshot.co.uk/dir/author/nicola/

RockShot has a wonderful team of regular contributors including journalists, photographers, interviewers, bloggers and reviewers with an emphasis on high quality writing and photography. I'm very lucky to be part of the team.

I've been fortunate to channel my love of music into something very tangible and widely read. Highlights have been an interview with the beautiful and engaging Saffron from Republica, a heady trip on the London Eye with the legendary Don Letts, interviewing and meeting the supremely talented Victor & the Rain Dog, and a memorable gig with the awesome Harry Pane, whose year will most certainly be 2016.

I survived (and loved) the meaty Grillstock Festival and covered and discovered some amazing acts, and spent a whole weekend at Love Supreme Festival soaking up the sun, the incredible lineup and the plentiful cider.

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After all that, I took a breather at Backyard Cinema in Camden Market and put my feet up with an Al Fresco big screen, (veggie) Burgers and Beer.

Check out the links within this post for my write up and some very high quality event photography courtesy of RockShot's team who take much, much better photos than me (the images here are my own!).

Thank you RockShot.

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Harry Pane at Bird of Smithfield, London - 6 November 2015

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Ridiculously talented artists who live in your hometown and, on first actual meeting rather than virtual tweeting, are genuine and affable don’t come along that often. 

I first discovered Harry Pane when he opened Grillstock Festival back in the summer. It was a heady, boozy outing for the carnivores but as the token vegetarian I was mainly there for the music. Harry was the Lazy Jacks Cider competition winner and opened the Main Stage with a bluesy, raw and powerful voice and cheerful self-deprecation. 'Hello Wembley!' he said to the scattering of journalists/fellow bloggers/photographers and super-keen Grillstockers who, like me, were sipping cider at 11am and feeling a little bit smug about catching this brilliant artist while everything was still comprehensible. 

I gabbed on about his cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Big Love for weeks after, playing it on repeat to my better half, my mates and basically anyone sitting still ('YOU HAVE TO HEAR THIS GUY’S VOICE’) and risked appearing a bit of a stalker on social media. Unfortunately I was away for The Stow Festival back in September where Harry appeared twice on the bill so when the gig at Bird of Smithfield came along, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Bird of Smithfield is a plush little venue near the iconic Smithfield Market; in an area I consider to be 'proper Laandan’. It is modern and smart and the street level bar is cosy, offering a more intimate setting to its formal dining areas on the upper level. The staff are friendly and with cocktails, flickering candles and obligatory WiFi it was all very civilised. Don't get me wrong, I love a rambunctious London boozer but at the end of a busy week, it's quite nice to have a seat with your beer.

So, back to Harry. He’s a folk/blues singer-songwriter residing in East London, hailing originally from Brackley, Northamptonshire. Described as owning a ‘soulful and emotive voice’, he adds guitar riffs, plenty of slide-guitar action and a stomp board to the mix with brilliant results. He writes and performs his own songs and cites John Martyn, Damien Rice, Bob Dylan and Xavier Rudd as his influences. His first EP, Real Souls was championed by BBC Introducing London and Amazing Radio and swiftly gained approval online.

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On the night, Harry kicked off his set with a bang and his expressive voice really is effortless; when you hear it live it sounds prerecorded. Thumping his foot, he created a hypnotic beat which, even if you're not the kind of person who's partial to head-nod in public places, made it impossible not to. I glanced around the bar; yep, there were definitely people who did NOT look like your usual head-nodders, doing it without abandon.

With Nina Simone's Feeling Good given a lovely rawness and depth it was soon evident he gives great cover - taking a track and effectively turning it completely on its head. In my humble opinion, Harry creates a more impactful version of the originals. (Case in point: Firestone by Kygo, performed by Harry as part of Reload Sessions).

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Gnarls Barkley's Crazy followed which received the Harry treatment. 'There are absolutely no dud notes, everything is in tune!' said my hubby as I head nodded along in agreement. Not seeming the kind of bloke to let that undeniable talent go to his head, Harry exclaimed 'I'm lucky enough to be playing the O2 on Sunday before Van Morrison!' with a genuine glint in his eyes - in reference to Morrison's gig with Tom Jones at The Prudential Blues Fest  - before playing Moondance in celebration. It was sublime, instantly reminding me of seeing Morrison at Love Supreme Festival earlier this year. Pane also played the O2 Priority Lounge ahead of Fleetwood Mac at the O2, so it was fitting he covered Go Your Own Way

I'm a sucker for 90's R'n'b; an intro to a Destiny’s Child tune can fell me in one nostalgic swoop, so I appreciated Harry's cover of Backstreet’s No Diggity with an extra helping of funk. Throughout the evening, diners came down from the restaurant upstairs, passing Harry as they exited. Most would stop, listen and mouth 'He's really good!’ to their companion before hanging about the door for a bit not really wanting to leave.

Some more top class covers followed; a stomping version of The Lumineers. Hey Ho, Ed Sheeran’s Bloodstream, James Bay’s Hold Back the River, I’m Yours by Jason Mraz (‘it’s a bit cheesy but I’m going to play it anyway’ he quipped, effectively stripping away all the cheese and dishing out a corker) and James Brown’s It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World - all delivered with great intensity. He’s an engaging performer and hugely down to earth, with impressive staying power - forty-five minutes into the gig and there were and no signs of his voice, or him, faltering.

Clearly Harry does great covers, but his own material should also get the exposure it deserves. His own tracks had the most impact on me, especially the newly penned Cold Light of Dayinfluenced by artists like Jamie N Commons, The Bones of JR Jones, Seasick Steve and Rocco DeLuca and he used a slide to create a bluesy, glissando effect.

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Right that’s enough from me. I'm going to let you discover Harry for yourself. Check out his website for upcoming gigs, including the new event at Brooklyn Bowl 'New Blood Live' at The O2, London on 26 November and his gig in the 02 Priority Lounge ahead of Mumford & Sons on 10 December.

Before do I close though, a final plea. Harry is crowdfunding his second EP and asking for help via the Pledge Music platform. At the time of writing, with 18 days to go he has reached 53% of his target. Good, but I'm sure you'll agree after checking out his stuff he deserves much, much better.

So, my advice is to get clicking, pledging and giving using the links below as soon as you can - it’s your chance, like me, to be part of the journey of this super talented artist. 

PLEDGE MUSIC - SUPPORT HARRY'S NEW EP

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Harry-Pane

 

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSIbjwctN7Q&feature=youtu.be

 

Walthamstow Rock'n'Roll Book Club: David Cavanagh bids Good Night to John Peel

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Saturday 31 October 2015, Waterstones, Walthamstow, London

Please don’t hate me, but the truth is I didn’t listen to the John Peel Show.

In fear of retribution I present my defence. His entire Radio 1 career spans my life on earth so far. When I was born in 1978, John had already broadcast 11 years of his Top Gear programme and was 3 years into the John Peel Show. I have no idea what I was doing in my teenage years either, probably piddling about on Capital Radio, and I’m disappointed my all-consuming love for music and the fact I chomped through Smash Hits on a regular basis didn’t naturally fling me in his direction.

I am, though, old enough and curious enough to know exactly who John Peel is. To recognise his warm and distinctive tones in the rare moments they are revived, to remember him presenting the occasional Top of the Pops and to resolutely understand why he was, and remains, so fundamentally important to music.

My husband, a Senior Designer at Faber & Faber, gave me the heads up about David Cavanagh’s book Good Night and Good Riddance: How Thirty-Five Years of John Peel Helped to Shape Modern Life. I immediately added it to my Social Media Diet booklist, where it currently waits in the wings. My interest in John had already been piqued a few months back on holiday where I devoured Caitlin Moran’s smashing How to Build a Girl in one greedy sitting. The protagonist, inquisitive music-head and coming-of-age heroine Johanna Morrigan, reads about the legendary John Peel and his illustrious sessions on Radio 1 at her local library. The description of Johanna plugging in her Dad’s huge headphones in the radio when the rest of the house is asleep, using the Radio Times tuning information to find Radio 1 and finally, at 97.2 FM, finding a Liverpudlian drawl is so delightful it made me want to weep and laugh in equal amounts. 'This is it' Johanna says 'I’m in the door! This is Uncle Peel, of whom they all speak! I am, finally, going to hear the counter-culture of 1990 for the first time! This is where it all hangs out!’.

So when I stumbled across Walthamstow Rock'n'Roll Book Club's event on Twitter that would feature David Cavanagh’s book, and realised the author would be present (and red wine would be served), well, it was a no-brainer. The creation of Mark Hart, fellow Stow resident and self-proclaimed music-head, Saturday’s rollicking book club took place at Waterstones, on the toasty upper level that contrasted beautifully with a misty and crisp Halloween evening outside.

Being in a bookshop at night, after-hours, for me is the equivalent of being a kid in a sweet shop. I listened keenly at the front as Mark introduced David with a fitting preface before the author read the first of four extracts from the book.

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He effortlessly whooshed us back through time. To 1969, where John Peel was playing the likes of Creedence Clearwater Revival, David Bowie, Elton John and Marc Bolan. While Radio 1 concentrated on playing chart hits, John was playing album tracks on a Sunday afternoon like a renegade. Onto 1979 and Neil Young has released his album On the Beach. Labelled by Rolling Stone Magazine as “one of the most despairing albums of the decade.” John heard re-birth, not despair and, using what David affectionately described as a ‘Peelian term’, appraised it as ‘a handsome work’.

To 1987 where John’s show has been shamefully reduced from five days a week to three. Rough Trade Records has announced that Johnny Marr has left The Smiths today and, in John’s world, this is a huge crisis (he did bring The Smiths to Radio 1 after all). He said ‘…how this is going to work out frankly I can’t imagine, I’d prefer not to try and imagine it, I must confess but it seems to have been determined and that’s the way things are going to be and we just have to sit back and see what happens’. For him, it wasn't simply the departure of a key band member, it was a bereavement.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QYu9yzr0Ao

Lastly to 1993, where a poll reveals the country is dissatisfied with a John Major-led Tory government, and it is the heyday of dance music. A young and enterprising Pete Tong has first dibs of all the new tracks, like the latest New Order, before Peel, and wears the sharpest suits. John stubbornly wears t-shirts of indie bands who had split in 1991 and plays Radiohead, Pulp, Cornershop and Therapy.

I found David's session instructive as well as compelling. I learnt new stuff, and stuff I thought I knew and then had validated. He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of John Peel (I guess that’s what close listening to circa 600 shows does for you; 260 were selected to feature in the book) and could proudly recite Peelian morsels off the top of his head with a warm and assured delivery, and cracking sense of humour to boot.

This is what I learnt. John was an independent thinker which did not always coincide with the thoughts and opinions of the music press. He would play Billy Bragg in direct support of the miner’s strike. He loved all genres of music and brought punk, post-punk and indie as well as African, Hip Hop and Dancehall to the masses. He had no favourite ‘era’ and wanted to avoid appearing anachronistic. He believed music belonged to women as much as it did to men. He was the first to play Grandmaster Flash’s The Message on UK radio in 1981. He liked rap. For the students, the school kids who wanted to make sense of the world he would treat them with intelligence and give them the chance to hear what was underground. His approach to the microphone was warm, discursive, self-deprecating and his delivery created a unique relationship with the audience. His rueful digressions were as entertaining as some of the records he played, like when he apologised for leaving his glasses on the train. The Fall were his favourite band of all time.

John Peel died 11 years ago, in 2004, at the age of 65. ‘The day the music died’ was how his untimely death was described by the Evening Standard that afternoon. The artists he had played, one by one, came forward which signified just how important he was.

When pressed by Mark why he had written the book, David said the question wasn’t necessarily why, but why it had taken him so long. A friend, in the hazy Olympian Summer of 2012, had sent him an email with a link to a John Peel show in 1980. He found it not just nostalgic, but significant. It was a two hour piece of radio history. He talked about sentences forming in his head without him helping it and rather than writing a short piece for a newspaper, he wanted to write tens of thousands of words. He noted that when viewing the song list for the Olympic's Opening Ceremony, Danny Boyle and Underworld had gone not for obvious Brian May, or George Michael, but instead Pink Floyd and Tubular Bells. It was in effect a John Peel show. It was for the mavericks.

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David thanked the audience for listening and Mark invited them to share their Peel moments. An eclectic bunch and clearly music-heads themselves, there were mixed experiences and fond memories. One guy had been jabbed with a pen by John at a record fair while another remembers fondly voting in The Festive Fifty. One man’s mother listened to John Peel’s Home Truths religiously, one lady wrote John’s obituary and Mark himself had a gem - he was in a band and had the honour of having their record played on the John Peel Show, but sadly John was sick so his stand in, Steve Lamacq, did the honours instead.  Crushing.

Despite the tantalising suggestion of a lock-in, sadly Waterstones had to shut and the night was over; the spell was broken. I considered what I’d heard on the walk home. John Peel was clearly a key post-war British cultural figure and his contribution was immeasurable. He came from a mythical era where DJs wielded the power, had the influence to change young kids' lives and set a band on the right trajectory before their music crossed over to the national mainstream. When it was vital for a song to be played on the radio, rather than becoming pervasive on social media in a matter of seconds.

I may not have been there in the glory days, I may not have really understood the relevance of The Festive Fifty until that night, but I have a greater appreciation of John Peel’s influence and an appetite to learn more. His show went beyond the music played - it reflected how the nation felt at the time, was a chronicle of social history and demonstrated how his tastes and thinking changed over the years to keep him at the cutting edge.

Quite simply, John Peel helped to shape modern life.

Good Night and Good Riddance: How Thirty-Five Years of John Peel Helped to Shape Modern Life

WALTHAMSTOW ROCK N ROLL BOOK CLUB 

JOHN PEEL WIKI