Live Review: John Murry, Roesy

The seated dinner crowd is serenaded by Roesy, tonight’s opening act. Confident enough to be up there with an acoustic guitar as his only accompaniment, the Irish folk singer channels Nick Drake, The Freewheelin’…-era Bob Dylan and even David Bowie when exploring the higher registers of his voice. Though lyrics occasionally enter corny territory – “They say love is blind/Is that why I can’t find you?”– the candlelit audience is swept away by his flawless voice and genuine emotion. Roesy calls John Murry to the stage to solo over Learning To Crawl, but his experience shines through and he just about blows the headliner off the stage.

Murry opens his set by singing four acoustic songs solo. His is a very different style to Roesy; unrefined expression with a few forgiven mistakes here and there. He’s not very comfortable playing alone and complains to this supportive crowd that he has to play one more before his electric band can join him, explaining, “I just love rock’n’roll”. Finally, the band join him on stage and launch into a Neil Young’s Harvest-style romp of loose, rocky country. This is followed by The Stars Are God’s Bullet Holes with a tighter, cuter feel. The guitarist, bassist and drummer are all excellent and provide a solid foundation for Murry’s erratic playing, allowing it to flourish and extend. However they seem to get a bit frustrated with their lead singer’s crowd interaction. Murry is sort of charming, but also very weird. Staring out into the crowd through paranoid eyes under a low-pulled cap, Murry tells very dry jokes about his past, specifically his battle with heroin addiction. His audience is on board at first, but they get lost and frustrated either because the jokes are too jarring or because Murry mumbles so much that you can barely hear what he’s saying. However once they return to playing songs, all is forgiven.

California is a Radiohead-esque slow burn, with grungy chords that perfectly juxtapose Murry’s Springsteen-like howls. Murry even gets on his knees for a guitar solo on this one. Saving the best for last, a rockier Little Colored Balloons has just as much heart as the stripped-back album version. It’s a huge crowd favourite and everyone leaves with a great reminder of the power of emotion in the wall-of-sound that is rock.