|
All material © Blues in London 2009. All rights reserved
Support Blues in London
Shop for anything here and
we get a small commission
NO EXTRA COST TO YOU!
|
|
Memo Gonzalez and The
Bluescasters + Ian Seigal
Charlie's, 9 Crosswall,
London EC3, 31.10.06

Review by David Atkinson
I'd heard his album and read the hype but thanks
to a seemingly endless stream of prior engagements (or simple bad luck)
I'd never seen or heard Ian
Seigal in person. As I got to Charlie's he
was all ready well into Blind Willie Johnson's God
Don't Ever Change. I suspected I was in for a treat.
I was forced to stand as there were no spare seats, unusual for half
past seven on a Tuesday night, but a fair few were occupied by fans rather
than just post-work drinkers. The former were reverent but the latter
a little noisy I thought, but what can you do? Well, you can play and
sing like Ian Siegal, that's what. We got a fine set pounded and plucked from
of his vintage steel-bodied National, including almost as much gospel
as straight blues. He was skilled and charismatic enough to silence the
boozy Suits but not necessarily the odd genuflecting fan determined to
sing along - them he just tells to shut up.
Stop Breaking Down and Groundhog Blues were sheer class
and offset nicely by Mary Don't You Weep. The combination of
steel National (rather than brass) and his fingerpick-less frailing right
hand gives the 'der-rum-dum-dum...' sound you can hear on the the title
track of his album 'Meat and Potatoes'. It's not without
its hazzards though as we witnessed a broken nail getting snagged
on the strings. Painful? I winced from across the room. It didn't slow
him down though and he joked he'd sell the nail on ebay the following
day. I wonder if he got any bids...
Based on what I saw, Ian's set was more than an amalgamation of his influences,
but I wished it was even more so. The wolfisms and Waitisms are
there but so was an almost carbon copy of Taj Mahal's version of Ain't
Nobody's Business and a segue from House
Rent Boogie to One
Bourbon, One Scotch... that is a trademark of George
Thorogood,
neither of which was acknowledged as such (or at least not so I noticed). I
hope this was more to do with the solo setting insofar as it
allowed him to indulge himself and play what he wanted, rather than him allowing
the audience to think they were his own. It did take the edge
of his performance for me a bit - a touch of humility is
endearing, I think.
Being particularly enamoured of pre-war delta and gospel styles, I really
enjoyed seeing someone drawing on these sources in a progressive
way (and perfectly exemplified on Drowned My Sorrows on 'Meat
and Potatoes').
Now, it sounds a bit Gestalt, but between the Son
House, John Lee
Hooker, Robert and Blind Willie Johnson, Taj
Mahal, Tom Waits and Chester
Burnett, there was less Siegal than there ought to be. It's
odd because I was so impressed but found the studied coolness really
frustrating. He has the range and ability to do it all and I
think with less of the persona and more personality he'd be one
of the greats himself - much, much more than the sum of his
parts.
He closed with John The Revelator, drumming out the galloping
rhythm on the neck of his guitar while cigarette smoke rose from the
headstock...

Pound for
pound, Memeo Gonzalez and The Bluescasters must be the
best value band on earth. A truly international group, they instantly
locked onto a slow-burn groove that built and built thanks the the robust,
muscular guitar playing of Kai Strauss. I'm not
normally a fan of strats but there was nothing thin about the tone. This
was west-coast and swinging, fat but not at all flabby.
Mauling the bass was a colossal, intimidating looking fellow
who wrung out one of the most satisfying bass sounds I've heard in
ages from what looked like a rather battered Danelectro semi-acoustic
bass. The tone was somewhere between an upright and a bass guitar and
I loved it. Erkan Ozdemir was large enough to play it vertically;
it looked almost like a necktie at at times.
Memo himself was even bigger, and looked like I like to think all Texans
look. Quite the showman and in possession of a refreshingly uncliched
harp style, he set about dedicating every song the the 'fine, beautiful
ladies' in the room. My chilli had just arrived (it seemed an appropriate
choice) so I didn't get much chance to see where he was looking - I'll
take his word for it though.

Special mention must be given to the double neck Silvertone-style guitar
played by Kai on a couple of numbers. My hat goes off to anyone who can convincingly
wield a white axe like that, whilst wearing a cowboy shirt and plenty
o' pomade...
In a set that incorporated Rn'B, blues, swing and more rocky numbers,
they demonstrated that while there's room for flashes of individual brilliance
(a hefty behind-the-head guitar solo) it's the whole package
that makes a good band. Memo and The Bluescasters are certainly
that.
|
|
|