Lancaster Music Festival (part four…)
Returning to The Park after a visit to a rather wondrous chip shop, I wondered what further tests the Devil might set me. Cholesterol won’t kill me just yet but the Guinness is served in plastic glasses here. That’s proof that the Devil is nearby.
Jo Gillot looks petite and delicate. She sounds petite and delicate too with her sweet voice barely rising above the background chatter. That very delicacy is part of her charm and she is truly charming with the very awkwardness of her performance making her songs seem all the more real. Like many female songwriters, she sings about relationships but in a gentle, almost matter of fact way. She just isn’t the kind of woman to stick a steak knife in your heart while you sleep. I suppose I should make a Kate Nash comparison here if only for the sound of her voice rather than the lyrical content of her songs.
Bizarrely, the post punk hippie – the technical term is a “krustie” apparently – decides to clap in the middle of her songs. He’s ninety seconds behind reality and the bartender (female) advises him that he has overstayed his welcome. Never argue with a woman. He doesn’t.
Next on were the Handsome Devils – a two strong Smiths tribute act. Once more I was nearly dumbstruck with laughter as these two good gentlemen could not be taken seriously. Well, off key vocals, woeful guitar strumming and – wait for it – a big fake gladioli swinging about in the air are surely part of some greater joke. Or perhaps they are the finest tribute that Morrissey ever had (or deserved). The insane cabaret trampled over a good number of hits of The Smiths before a truly magical moment when Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” was radically reinterpreted. Actually, it was murdered right down to the dance steps. Totally camptastic.
I think I need some air.