The Psychøtic Reactiøn

Last minute planning sometimes pays off! This event was splendidly arranged by Polly Reid and Matt De Pulford, with a little assistance from Luke Smith (who found the venue). I was slightly disappointed to learn it was a deconsecrated synagogue (even less chance of running into Rabbi Lionel Blue, but no risk of incurring the wrath of Mossad, I suppose), but this tiny, secluded, and decidedly intimate venue turned out to be ideal for a night a little different from the norm. Volume was severely restricted so we dispensed with drums, Leo switching to piano. Also, realising that my guitar sound would be less than ROCK, I used more FX than usual. (In hindsight I would have been better off using a solid state amp; using a valve amp at this volume, my guitar sound was a little of the rubber-bands and cigar box variety). So, no kicking out the jams, just giving them a gentle push…

We were first on, and we used the situation (no rocking, sweating, or boots-on-monitors) to do things differently, to subtly rearrange set-mainstays, and play a couple of songs that don’t normally get an airing. In some instances, this made things very different (even “slick”, according to Matt, at least by our standards!), although “A Million Platitudes” and “I’m Not Ready Yet” probably sounded closer to their recorded versions than they ever have when played previously. We didn’t get to use the venue’s pipe organ (maybe next time!), but the grand piano more than sufficed. I also enjoyed the challenge of re-creating “A Million Platitudes’” FX car-crash at conversational volume!

Hailing from Tunbridge Wells, Songs of My Lap (a.k.a. yet another Alex) was an interesting proposition — gossamer-light guitar (stop sniggering) paired with a vocal somewhere between Thom Yorke and Smokey Robinson.

Hailing from slightly further afield (Williamsburg, a reputedly hip suburb of Brooklyn) was Jeffrey Lewis — one man, a guitar, some tapes, and some cartoons!! Lewis’s style is a combination of stream-of-consciousness monologues and hypnotic guitar; a sort of mutant hybrid of folk-blues and poetry channelled via the spirits of punk and stand-up comedy. So we get an epic and rather sinister account of a possibly fictional encounter with Will Oldham and various wry expositions on the conundrum of being a musician/artist/whatever and the self-imposed tangle of moral and social dilemmas that entails. Lewis also tells us what a ‘rider’ is in blues mythology — and to think I thought it was something to do with cars!! Not sure what all that Mao stuff, diverting though it was, was meant to prove, though I suppose it fitted neatly into the great tradition of turning despots into cartoons (a la The Beano’s Addie and Hermie!). Jeffrey Lewis is another alumnus of the New York “antifolk” scene (see the 2003 gigs page for my first tentative foray over there) to visit Canterbury, following Lach and Thomas Truax. There aren’t too many musical visitors from overseas to Canterbury, but for some reason the antifolkers are becoming regular fixtures and always seem to go down well, Canterbury’s somewhat limited cultural diet meaning they’re most welcome; so please call again, cartoons, sticker-smothered guitar ‘n’ all!

• Monkey To Your Monolith
• I’m Not Ready Yet
• A Million Platitudes
• Overdraft Blues
• Put Your Weight On Me
• Dracula’s Guest
• Cocoon
• It’s A Small Town
• A Moment of Clarity