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Crooks On The Level Folk Club Union Tavern, Kennington London September 14, 2003 www.netrhythms.co.uk				david hughes live review
Stopping off, literally, on his way home to Essex from Devon, where he'd spent the previous week mixing his new album, David Hughes made his debut appearance at the Crooks on the Level Folk Club in south London. Unfortunately, word of this talented man's appearance seemed to have filtered not far beyond the club's walls, because the gig was criminally under-attended. There were but a dozen people in the room - including Hughes. But lack of numbers had no detrimental effect on the enjoyment quotient and Hughes' unique style could be said to lend itself to a small, intimate gathering (it sez 'ere). It's his songs, you see. They all tell a tale and it's usually a tale about real life. No wandering out on a misty-moisty morning for this Essex boy, oh no. His songs deal with such things as wandering out in his old motor, if he can get it through the MoT ("Blue car"); falling infatuated with a girl in a pub ("Jelly Babe"); football before the big bucks moved in ("Watching Brazil") and, funnily enough, folk music ("Everybody's Talkin' 'Bout Folk Music"). He said he was once asked at a folk club why he had no traditional murder ballads in his repertoire. Traditional not really being his thing, he thought he should really write his own murder ballad but was stumped for a story. Then, thank the heavens, his home town of Maldon came up trumps with the murder of the local kebab shop owner and, while being a tragic thing to happen, Hughes was able to turn it to his advantage and "Heart Of Stone" was the result. Intricate, yet drop-dead funny, lyrics and amazing guitar work that combines melody and rhythm in a mesmerising mix, as with all his songs, "Heart Of Stone" draws you in, has you laughing out loud and leaves you thinking. He announced his last song, "Ruby Does", as being one of those pencilled in to appear on the new album and was inspired by seeing his daughter walking home from school. Featuring a repetitive guitar figure and insistent chorus - well, as close to an insistent chorus as Hughes is ever likely to get - it bodes well for the forthcoming collection. With the licensing hours against him, he was just able to slip in a quick encore. Returning to the stage he said: "Kennington? Should be playing a calypso". From the floor came the immediate response: "A tango will do!" and, keen to please his small but appreciative audience, we were granted a rare outing of the greatest folk-tango of them all, "Hold Your Horses Woman". Obviously stripped of the Latino violin accompaniment provided by Los Fairportades Conventionides on the live recorded version, the solo Hughes was still able to make it sound big and imposing and, had there been a dark-eyed South American lovely to hand, the old Hall tango boots might well have been dusted off. Kennington should be grateful - very grateful - there was no such dark-eyed lovely to hand. Thanking the audience, Hughes said: "I'd always rather play to a room of friends than to a roomful of . . . non-friends." Those that made the effort to leave their Sunday-evening armchairs and umpteenth episode of "Heartbland" on TV were definitely friends and they lapped up what Hughes had to offer. It's such a shame that not a few more had ventured out. There is, after all, precious little quality folk to be had in London.. Fred Hall