We don't get out much. But park that thought for a moment. For one reason and another I've found a song trapped in my head like an ear worm for the last two weeks, it's not particularly new either. It's I Am Kloot's Northern Skies, from their Mercury Music Prize shortlisted album The Sky At Night - here's the video too, which is pretty good as well.
I was delighted then to discover that vocalist John Bramwell was performing on Sunday at the Royal Exchange in Manchester. We went along and massively enjoyed a posh concert experience. He was sort of supporting a folk singer called Thea Gilmour who is touring with her band. Now, she was brilliant too. But I found myself drawn to the tragi-drama and warmth of John Bramwell. From the moment he walked on with glasses of wine and beer in one hand, guitar in the other, he struck a chord as a fundamentally honest performer. His guitar playing was incredible too - filling the strange space of the in-the-round theatre with a wide range of often complex notes and chords.
He didn't even play Northern Skies, but that didn't matter. His voice, a lush, throaty Mancunian mix - part Richard Hawley and even Glen Campbell, brings to life these amazing songs, these authentic tales of a life lived. More than once he said the song was about "drinking, and disaster". I Am Kloot have never made it big, they probably won't, but I'm pleased they've got recognition, support and a loyal following. But you find yourself in that awkward position of wanting them to accelerate alongside Elbow's slipstream and carry on with these songs that have been produced painfully and carefully amidst a backdrop of fighting demons. You don't do that kind of work from a mansion in Oxfordshire. You may do a different kind of good work, but it's not this. The new album is out in 2012, sometime.
Link: I Am Kloot.
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