Back at a venue I used to frequent so regularly as a child, I was transported back in time in more ways than one. My old primary school church hall, the old stomping ground. The childhood hangout for happier days, our haunt for Halloween parties and a cosy corner for coffee mornings. The venue certainly makes the gig, and this has become more apparent to me the more venues I frequent (and ultimately dislike). This was familiar though, this was home. The nostalgia of the room had already got to me, and then Rob and the band began, and I was lost in music and emotion.
Rob and his merry band were a throwback to a time when things seemed simpler. The band seemed to enjoy every second of it, they grooved to their own tunes and got lost in the extended outros they did for every other song. The music was tight but didn’t feel wooden, the songs were edgy yet felt comfortable and familiar, and Rob led the line with more stage personality than I’ve seen sadly from any mainstream musician in the last 2 decades. He engaged the crowd not only throughout the show, but also afterwards where he stopped to chat to everyone and anyone he could. This was a man who loved his craft and wanted to share it with people however he could.
Rob took the plunge not too long ago, to make music full time and embrace the creative yet uncertain lifestyle. While his mortgage advisor isn’t too happy with his decision (his joke not mine), I can certainly say there are plenty of us that are. The band have been playing shows and festivals for a number of years now, honing their sound and putting together a show that keeps you on the edge of your seat. From the bassist literally taking the bass for a walk (he disappeared backstage while still keeping the song running smoothly), to the incredible voice of Grace Kelly the backup singer, there were so many dimensions to the band. Grace should get a special mention here for her stunning vocal performance. To call her a backup singer is to do her a disservice, but her voice blended so well with Rob’s it all just felt so natural and easy. It couldn’t have worked better as an ensemble, although I’m sure the more they play the more limits they’ll be able to push.
His debut album is described as “the cries from the wilderness of one man whowalked away from a version of himself he could no longer recognise.” Perhaps that is why it struck a chord with me (pun intended), and perhaps that’s why the songs didn’t feel dark, lonely, or haunted, as described by Rob himself. They felt uplifting and freeing. To transpose the biggest challenges in life into a work of art is a skill, and it’s what makes it so special. That juxtaposition of existential dread played in C major and with a catchy chorus, that’s one of the most encapsulating things about music. Rob delivers a heartfelt and painful message, but in a way that gets your toes tapping despite the tormented tone.
And in essence I feel that really that is what music is for many of us, a way to get us through and to make sense of what the world is. It can be challenging, it can be fun, it can be depressing and it can be uplifting. Sometimes you’ve got to take things day by day, and what better way to spend a day than at an intimate gig with a newfound favourite artist.
As the final song on the album says, “if it just takes time, I don’t mind”. Nothing could sum up better the way I feel about music, or indeed life in general at the moment. If a song or two can inspire like that, then that’s a sign enough to show that we are all the right place, even if it’s challenging at times. As Rob writes on his website; sometimes you just need a sign, a signal, or a reason to keep going. This show was mine. I’d love to hear them one more night, but for now I’ll settle for the album on repeat.
Article by James Heaton
