Live Reviews

  What's In The Water, Barbara Nesbitt, Diane Jardine, Steve Adams live at The Ship in Glasgow

So a voice said to me – I hear voices and that isn't as big a problem as you might think – that I had been in the sunlight too long and should therefore now spend some time in the metaphorical basements of life. Not knowing what a metaphor was I duly descended into the basement of The Ship instead.

And what musical treasures awaited me? First on were a trio of women from Canada going by the name of What's In The Water. No doubt you are wondering what was actually in the water? Well, one played the guitar upside down, one had won a song writing competition in Nashville and the other looked like she should be reading the evening news. Collectively they also did rather fine harmonies and were so damnably polite that you could just tell that it would be safe to invite them into your home.

Rather more decadent and dangerous was Barbara Nesbitt. All the way from Georgia via Texas to Glasgow is a long journey to make but it was clearly evident from her songs that she had the soul of a tequila drinker and this no mean city was the right place to take up temporary residence. Ms Nesbitt used humour effectively throughout in her songs – I think that Charlie Brown got outed in one them – and it was obvious to all that she was designed from the ground up to be on stage. I seem to recall that there was a song about girls from Texas on a Ry Cooder album from way back when and Barbara Nesbitt provided more than enough reason as to why songs about girls from Texas get written.

Time for the local talent next as Diane Jardine took to the stage. Practically defining what an earnest singer songwriter from this part of the world should be, she squeezed a King Creosote cover into her set of originals with such good natured ease that you had to wonder why no one else had thought of doing that before. More will be heard from her or my name isn’t Charles Dickens.

Last on was the ever affable Steve Adams. Being the lone guy in a room full of female performers did not faze him a bit and he set about presenting  his square peg in a round hole songs with all the vigour you would expect of a man with an uncontrolled beard and a point to make.

The fact that there were two large dogs at my feet was beginning to prey on my mind. Fortunately Graeme – fellow Guinness drinker and one half of The Dirt – was there to remind me that this was reality and not yet another drink fuelled delusion. Then the two large dogs looked at me like I would make a nice breakfast. Time for a sharp exit.

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