Live Reviews


  Peter Rowan, James Yorkston and Blueflint live at Grand Ole Opry in Glasgow



This Bluesbunny is all for getting around. I daresay there is no place I won't go, if a cracking show is my reward. Govan's Grand Ole Opry - home to the hitherto unknown Glesga cowboy - played host to a visit from American bluegrass thoroughbred Peter Rowan.

Flanked by the Handsome Bluesbunny, the drink was always going to be flowing. Glasgow's own Blueflint began the evening with an initially tame set that half-blossomed into a mature, Cowboy Junkies-esque set of sorrowful, yet innocent bluegrass. "He Called Her Name" began with some pretty harmonizing from Deborah and Claire. The coy banjo plucking made for pleasant, if not overly exciting listening. However, the guest fiddle of Roddie Neilson added some welcome texture to the set. "Bony Johnston" - a harrowing tale of one man's loss - perked the ears up somewhat.

Fife boy James Yorkston is a man who knows his trade. Beginning with a haunting, yet endearing version of "Mickey's Warning", Yorkston's talent was from there apparent. "From There She Starts" - another cover - was well-adapted to suit Yorkston's minimalist style. Yorkston's take on "The Old Maid's Song" was nothing short of stirring. Yorkston rounded off a captivating set with a similar wit and the same impressive finger-picking that he began with. My better-looking associate agreed that we may have come across a diamond in the rough in Mr. Yorkston. Not bad for a man who, at face value, has as much charisma as a dead salmon.

Peter Rowan was greeted with a great cheer, and right away Rowan - accompanied only by his acoustic guitar - set about justifying his reception. "Dust Bowl Children", as if stolen from under Steinbeck's nose, was a journey through 1930s Oklahoman dustbowl life. Traditional American folk standard "Man of Constant Sorrow" followed. Rowan's voice was only warming up, but he was already hitting the right notes.

There was little doubt that Rowan would have no problem adjusting to common Scottish behaviour, as a fair percentage of the crowd were dressed as cowboys. Not to mention the Grand Ole Opry's tacky, neon lit, Western strip joint look.

Rowan's experience and ability were reflected in his manner and in his performance, but he wasn't slow to pay tribute to one of American music's most enduring figures, Woody Guthrie. A striking version of "Philadelphia Lawyer" would later be followed by a caustic rendition of "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry". Too many acts are guilty of bastardising the songs of Hank Williams, neglecting the true poignancy of William's material. Not Rowan.

Rowan's interaction with an audience that most American artists would have no shame in being slightly afraid of was nothing short of terrific. Regaling his audience with tales throughout the night - from being in Galway with Steve Earle, to Comanche Indian folklore - Rowan had the room silent, save for the bar. Ending his set with an elaborate finger-picker, "In the Wilderness", the only complaint that could be put towards Rowan was that his songs seemed to get longer and longer. Whilst nonetheless absorbing, it's often better for a solo artist to be concise rather than indulgent.

Peter returned to the stage after a short break and with a few more songs, bade his loving audience a fond farewell. Peter boasts a proud, perhaps enviable CV, and from his performance here, it is not hard to see why he's had such a lengthy career. Peter Rowan is welcome back to Glasgow any time!



Reviewer:
Review Date:


Websites