I first saw Howie Reeve play several years ago at Iklektik in London, a venue tucked away in a yard not far away from St Thomas's hospital. I was intrigued by his solo acoustic bass guitar and vocal combo and we chatted afterwards. Last year, he suggested that I should play The Glad Café in Glasgow and put me in touch with them, and this year he invited me to mini-tour with him: I'd be the driver and he'd get the gigs. That almost sounds like a children's make-believe game, doesn't it? But that's exactly what touring's like until (I imagine) you become hugely famous and glide through life on an enormous air-conditioned tour bus with your manager ironing out the wrinkles. How boring that must be!
I picked him up at High Barnet tube and we set off for Hereford. Howie did a spectacular spilled latte trick at one of the service stations (more on that later), which was quite a relief. I knew it was going to be a fun three days.
We got to Wild Hare's nest (correct term) in reasonable time. It was great to see Richard and Sas again and he'd made a lovely curry for us which we consumed with glee before heading to the GWRSA, a social club for the Hereford Railway community. I love these places with a Youth Club feel. It was a big room with a stage at one end, although we didn't play on that: behind the velvet curtains sat three enormous plush carrots on human-sized chairs. I'm serious!
The sound checks were over at the speed of lightning. We said hello to Steve Ashley who was also on the bill, and to the people who had come to see us. Oh how lovely to see you Alex, beautiful as always! Howie set up, and off he went. He has a musical language entirely of his own, and takes his listeners on a mad journey of hairpin bends and precipices, with his bass speaking to his voice and vice versa. I find his songs completely absorbing, which makes it difficult to do what I usually do when I'm at gigs: work out the schemes, tricks and mentality behind it all. As a lyricist, he also has a unique vocabulary that pulls you into his poetic world, a world simultaneously feral and sophisticated. Swooping, zooming notes are punctuated by the most beautiful of bass chords that sometimes sound medieval (or the way I imagine that to sound). I can imagine his music connecting with people across timelines and territories.
Then it was time for my set. The room had its own lovely sound, and it felt good after the drive to do what I'd come to do. I felt confident and happy, and managed to play a couple of the new songs. What a nice audience they were- they had sung along with Howie and they did the same for me. Thank you!
Steve was the final performer, a proper entertainer who was very much of the folk tradition as a guitarist (although intriguingly, he plays his guitar upside down). It was a real education to hear someone play an acoustic guitar in such a detailed and fluid way: I was mesmerised. He finished his set reluctantly (or perhaps not) by singing a hilarious acapella song about a jealous dog and it brought the house down.
We stayed at Richard's and the next morning chatted over tea and toast, and wandered around his wonderful garden, which includes a Bonsai beech tree they'd been given as a wedding present that he had liberated. It was twisty-trunked, but enormous. We ate windfalls, took a breath or two, and set off for Sheffield.
It wasn't a bad journey and a wedding was just finishing at The Bishop's House when we got there. Up high there on a hill, there was time and space to breathe and admire the Tudor beams and quirkiness of the building and the room where we were going to play: a low-ceilinged, beamed beauty of a room. Our host Paul turned up, and with an even shorter soundcheck (expecting negative equity soundcheck soon!) we awaited our audience. Elodie of Da Da Da zine showed up with one of her daughters, and so did Duncan from the Lantern Theatre. It was an intimate gig, andsuch fun. By the end of it we were all mates talking about Sooty and Sweep (a particular love of Paul and his partner Gail). I professed my true love for Sweep, and one of the women at the front of the room knew of the person who owned the original Sweep puppet, and found them online! The night felt like a cocoon of warmth. The woman who found Sweep, and who'd been sitting with her partner at the front, both completely engaged with the music, declared with huge pride as she left the venue, 'We're both autistic!'. I think that sealed the deal on the night.
We stayed at Paul's and he helped Howie in with his suitcase. Paul was rather merry, and in a very funny moment he plonked the case wheels first into his hallway, lost his balance and went charging helplessly down the corridor right to the end. Ha ha!
Next morning we folded ourselves into the car again and off we went. Rather nastily, when we stopped for a coffee I told the barista to be careful, because Howie had spilled his latte all over the floor the other day. Fate got me back. As soon as I sat down, I kicked the table and almost my entire cup of coffee spilled all over it, and Howie joined in with the milk. Oh deary me.
So the third gig was in Shipley, upstairs at the Triangle. The omens were good as soon as we got there: two of Howie's friends were there. It was a light and airy room, and because this was an afternoon gig parents with children showed up. No Bathing Pond then: too rude. Then in came Mick and June! Just like the old days! We had chips (oh irresistible smell!), and then Alison showed up too, who has been to my gigs as far apart as Leeds and Brighton. The intimacy of an afternoon room, children, daylight: this was completely different from the other two gigs and I found myself very aware of the lyrics of my songs to the point that I couldn't sing All I Want Is The Sun To Shine For You. I did sing verse one of Three Little Fishes though- and told them about the benefit for Ugandan orphans in a church in Notting Hill where Mick Jones's son's band was playing, and someone mistook Mick Jones for a vicar!
After I'd finished, who should show up but Johna! Now that's someone I know from way back in the day, when I was going out with a member of King Kurt and he was one of their most loyal fans. Now that I come to think of it, it was Johna who caught me skulking at the back of a King Kurt gig trying not to get mucky, and splurged a handful of goop all over me!
Howie put in a great set again, and Mick and June really enjoyed his stuff. What a great trio of gigs! Big thanks to Howie for suggesting this in the first place, to Richard and Paul for putting us up, to the promoters and most especially, to the audiences that came along and made it all so worthwhile. And oh, the conversations!
And now, I'm going to watch Bargain Hunt.
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