Turbulence, that's what it is. The wind catches you and blows you in a different direction from what you intended. Seek shelter. It's the smart thing to do. Find yourself a basement. A basement like the Liquid Ship.
Hey, there's Roger the Bluesfather. He's got his red guitar and that red guitar has got the blues. Well, got the blues for the most part. Roger, however, is so damnably polite - he is from Edinbugger, after all - and civilised that you have to suspect that he's playing a parlour game with us all. Juxtaposition or something like that. Nearly there or nearly sure. It's hard to tell.
Traquair sounds familiar. Memories if an album come back to me. That must be where I've heard him before. He treats his twelve string guitar as an old friend and, perhaps because of that, Cat Stevens comes to mind. Sort of folk, sort of seventies' singer songwriter, sort of KT Tunstall inspired, he makes his mark with some vigour (and a stripy jacket).
Mr and Mrs Smith round things off this evening. Alternating between Crawford (aka Mr Smith) and his natural effusiveness and Outi (aka Mrs Smith) and her ethereal torch singer approach - there was an exquisite acappella rendition in her native Finnish that would surely steal your heart - there was something quite unique and well balanced about them. "Back To The Start" was one of the songs and I hope this is the start for them.
Temptation. Morellos is just up the road. After all, a man needs a quality kebab to keep him company on that last train to nowhere. There's no home when she's not there.