Reviews Bido Lito! June 2015
37
when singing of his recent, and more distant,
past. He’s seen rock bottom, and has turned
the experience into some beautiful modern
folk music. At times, he stands so far back from
the mic that it’s hard to see why he even needs
one, such is the guttural, earthy power of his
voice. There’s more than a hint of Otis in his
Caledonian soul musings, and just a slightly
audible hint of his Scottish accent, which often
recalls the acoustic ramblings of Roddy Frame.
He’s gutted to have to finish the set but, as he
completes new song My Heart Was The Sun, it’s
clear to see that, for an artist who at one point
thought he’d reached a desperate end, this is
very much just the beginning.
Paul Fitzgerald / @NothingvilleM
SEASICK STEVE
Philharmonic Hall
By 2005, and after too many hard years
trying, SEASICK STEVE had given up. “Even the
yard dogs outside never wanted to listen to
my music”, he was once quoted as saying. Then
came a call from Jools Holland’s people with a
request to play the Hootenanny. Forced to play
with a borrowed practice amp, he hated every
minute, seeing it as nothing but a pointless
exercise. He even picked up the speed halfway
through Dog House Blues, so keen was he to
leave. The day after it was broadcast, however,
Seasick Steve (Keith Ainsworth / arkimages.co.uk)
a call came in from the Eavis family, and a
Glastonbury invitation opened the doors to the
rest of Steve’s amazing life. And he’s grateful.
As he takes to the stage at the spectacularly
refurbished Philharmonic Hall, he finds himself
bowing to an audience that are venerating him
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Campbell Square, Argyle Street
Liverpool L1 5FB
t 0151 709 7000
www.liverpoolonebridewell.com
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Open 7 days a week. Quality cask ales,
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Real Ale Pub & Kitchen
before he’s even had a chance to sit down.
He appreciates every clap, cheer, and smile,
and constantly reminds us of this all the way
through this incredible two-hour show. Here
to promote the new album Sonic Soul Surfer,
he takes his place under the fairground lights
strung across the stage and, armed with
nothing but a bottle of red wine and a battered
guitar, he launches into a set of blistering dirty
backyard blues, beginning with the beautiful
Treasures. It’s a packed hall, but Steve’s playing
and raw, scratched baritone voice lend an