Thursday night was sweltering in every aspect of the word. It was, literally, sweltering, but also, it sweltered with unadulterated talent, overwhelming good fun and floor collapsingly brilliant vibes... and that was just The Medicine Sessions, what followed later only added to the meltyness of mind.. (amazing privately shared tunes, laughter and fire breathing).
The Bradley Sisters eased us all into the night with their sublime harmonies and delicate ballsyness. Despite their angelic voices, the Bradley Sausages (one of their many temporary names on the night thanks to The Ronald), hide a savageness in their songwriting, which makes for a nice juxtaposition... I swore I would never use that word on this blog, but it is actually needed here. Ray, their Cajon player and it turns out, stunning singer himself, leant a nice pace to their set made up of rhythm guitar, piano and those vocals. The girls have an easy banter on stage and are completely fearless in their delivery, drawing in a quiet respect from the audience and leaving the first half relaxed, open and spiritulised. The Bradley Sisters (and Ray) are lovely humans!
stunning racket escaping from the open windows. Everyone in the room was happy to stay crammed in despite the heat, sweating and howling and yipping and being blown away by The Calvinists' set... and what a set! If ever a band deserve to make their way in the music world and make some actual money from what they do, then it is this lot. To watch them is to watch an obvious tight friendship, musical intuitiveness and first class performance. You are hit by a wall of sound created by four part harmonies, driving rhythm section and complex lead, all mixed up into The Calvinists gypsy/blues/folk/rock/mountain/EasternEuropean/fruitloop/nutjob/madness genre. Apart from their songs being technically, brilliantly put together, which they are, their creations are also lyrically of the finest, only added to by their performed delivery. You could hate this lot for all their talent if you were so inclined, but the fact that the lad's are all so fecking sound, means you'd be a complete asshole to do so.
Oh, and there was more dancing, which involved a large amount of the capacity crowd forming a circle and doing can-can moves, which did actually have the plaster shedding downstairs.. onto an American lady who was on her laptop.