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The Institute Kelvedon January 11, 2008				david hughes live review
Just back from a low key gig in darkest Kelvedon - the promotion of which was in itself an act of the purest faith (see 'Live at The Institute' for further details, Friend checkers) in that a couple of guys found a venue, had one of those idiotic "If we book it, they will come" moments and actually pulled it off - and I have enjoyed an evening in the company of one of those artists (and I use the term advisedly) who really make making the effort to turn off your television set and go and do something less boring instead, well, worth the effort. He's an unsung hero - the kind of guy who is probably held in enormously high regard by people you've heard of without ever making the move into actually being someone you've actually heard of. Be-bearded of countenance (a natty goatee which suits him as well as his pinstriped suit jacket does), he wears the lines on his face like a favourite t-shirt, and inhabits the role of Essex roue as well and comfortably as Morgan Freeman plays god. He coaxes tunes out of an open tuned six string guitar as easily as the rest of us wash our hands. The songs are delivered as if some hybrid of Earl Okin, Elvis Costello, Mose Allison and Bert Jansch had got together and morphed into one laid back cocktail cowboy who had decided to deliver an impromptu cabaret set in the back bar`of that local that you'd always hoped would exist but had never expected to find. Sometimes you just know that a person is born to fulfil a role, and that there should be some sort of per diem allowance stipulated by act of parliament to just let them get on with it and not have to worry about the day to day incumberances of gas bills, the distractions of intrapersonal relationships or things like having to take the bins out. There are recordings of his, sure, but nothing beats the joy of being in a room with the man while he does his stuff. I'm sure he's a dreadful human being to speak with on a daily basis in terms of, oh, I don't know, taking the bins out (?) but thankfully I don't have to deal with that side of things, so I don't really care. Did this gig change my life? No. But did it transport me above the mundanity of day to day life, let me forget that there were things like pain, provocation and cruelty in the world, chuckle at wordplay and wonder at the glory of someone who can fingerpick, hit an echo pedal and scowl at the sound man, all in one movement? Yes. For an hour I was moved, and in this world, it's rare that you can hope to be anything more. David Hughes is in my Friends list - go and say hello. Shane Kirk http://www.myspace.com/lewison_clark