One day soon I may become a poet so that I might put into rhyme the feelings that I experienced when I found I had not only misplaced my favourite crack pipe but also that the telly on a Monday night is pure rubbish. In the universe that is meantime, the search for distraction from my woes led me to Broadcast where Jack and The’ and Angus Munro and were making it happen in a live environment type scenario.
So shooting first, as it were, was Angus Munro. With a cohort of stylistically eloquent compañeros and his civilised tickling of the ivories, Mr. Munro soon demonstrated the benefits of a musical education and, in the best tales of the unexpected style, he even managed to induce a bout of twerking amongst the audience. The balletic grace of his clean cut and chord intensive style might seem an unlikely motivator in terpsichorean matters but there it was for all who were high on life to see.
Following the complex chord progressions of the literate was never going to be easy but Jack and The’ – as the apostrophe suggested, they were indeed from the self-consciously groovy environs of Edinburgh – proved stalwart in their efforts to do so. To their favour, Jack and The’ were playfully fey in their recreation of that sixties lounge sound with the flute and sax appeal of Tom Pickles, and it’s not often that a flute is used in a non-aggressive manner on the west coast, adding the icing to their high sugar content musical cake.
Hurricane Jack once said “Fair Words Oblige Nae Man”. Hurricane Jack, perhaps in consequence, made few friends and, dear hamsters on the wheel of life, that’s more than enough philosophical thinking for one night.