Robert Rotifer was in Ian's band and it's always great to see him contribute his chord wizardry to people's songs: the year has been dovetailed by watching him with Judy Dyble in January, and Ian in December.
Saturdays are Daylight Music days (although they are taking a break now until January). Yesterday's was impossible to miss: the chance to hear The Catenary Wires' songs through the crystal clear sound system at the Union Chapel was enough to get the laziest Saturday slob out of bed and into the Union Chapel with a cup of tea and a slice of home made cake. Now they are a three-piece, Amelia Fletcher and Rob Pursey with additional harmonies and keyboards from Fay Hallam, and they flex that sound to its fullest extent.
They started with a song aimed at their local MP Damien Green, through the lens of the #MeToo movement. Was That Love's piercing words managed to make poetry out of shame, to all the better effect:
'I was trying to find a way to say no'.
Many women know that feeling.
I loved their rendition of Dream Town, which effortlessly glided into and out of sections of lovely harmonies. Great song writing! I'm hoping some of it will rub off on me! (I'm just about to immerse myself in an intensive song writing session).
To celebrate the release of their label WIAIWYA's Christmas compilation, they were joined for their Christmas song by Whoa Melodic on tambourine, who had kicked off the event sporting a bright green Christmas suit, an acoustic guitar and some very catchy songs.
And they like Slade.
Next, Liverpool's Jonathan Hering built up a twelve-part early music chant that pulled the mind's ear back to Medieval times of chilly abbeys and monks in hessian garb; we were pulled into his world more and more as his voice headed upwards into cool falsetto, icing the cake of layered harmonies from bass upwards.
Finally the Ho Ho Horns (a group of eleven French horns: shades of the twelve days) played a lovely warm-hearted set of music, swapping lead roles with each player swaying gently in their own time to make a subtly undulating visual articulation of their complete absorption in the music.
They reminded me of the Village Vanguard Jazz Orchestra in New York, who did exactly the same thing. You don't see rock bands doing that, ever. Maybe you need to be classically trained in order to completely give up your ego and submit to the music? This was such an original sound: it's a great instrument and to find eleven of them playing in one place at one time more than makes up for the buses that don't turn up then all turn up at once, and the loss of two parents (a HANDBAG?).
Daylight Music is absolutely brilliant.
Hats off to Ben for running it for ten years, and also for the poorest cracker joke (i.e. the best) this year:
What carol do they sing in the desert?
O Camel Ye Faithful.
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