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	REVIEW
	Guisborough R&B Festival May 2009
	It may not be the biggest festival in the UK calender but in terms of line-up quality Guisborough takes some beating. Organisers Kath and Ralph are to be congratulated for continually bringing some of the best on the circuit to this beautiful part of the North East. The staff are friendly, the food and drink are good and the sound mix is always top class, a credit to all concerned. Compere Ralph raised eyebrows and guffaws in equal measure when introducing the recently reformed Harpbreakers as "Being less physical than in years gone by". Thankfully the band ( Nigel Dunne, harp,v/c ; Tony Roach, guitar; Big Vern, drums; and Andy Sykes, double bass) took the dubious description in good part and ensured their performance raised only the bar for those that were to follow. 'Let's Have A Natural Ball' saw them instantly hit their stride, with Nigel swinging easily on both harp and vocal on this mid-tempo rocker. A great sense of fun is the essence of any Harpbreakers show and was encapsulated on 'Rock Me Baby' - Tony's trademark portrayal of a runaway automaton, continuously changing direction, whilst soloing out on the dance floor. Midway through the set Nigel took a rest from the gob-iron to coax up the first dancers of the day for the swampy 'I'm No Good For You'. 'Think' then saw more 'Mad Axe Man' antics from Tony before a slice of good old rock 'n' roll ('The American Way') made way for the stupendous Bo Diddley tribute 'Boogie Stew' - Big Vern's tribal beat and Andy's thumping bass provided the jungle density, Tony's wah wah chattered like a monkey while Nigel's vocals, by turns, purred and snarled like a big cat guarding a prized meal. The finale, 'I Want To Be Your Lover', was even better; mirroring as it did Slim Harpo's 'Shake Your Hips' in its driving intensity. Tony's walkabout this time literally reaching for the highs (standing on top of a chair) and the lows, (writhing with his back to the floor) with the wails of Nigel's harp displaying more fat-toned muscularity than a Sumo training camp. It would have put the icing on the cake to see Nigel perform one of his famed somersaults within this high energy aperitif, (perhaps free-walkovers come at too high a price these days) but the message was clear, The Harpbreakers are back, and how! Johnny Whitehill's Real Deal received a terrific reception on taking the stage; the former long-time Kingsnake guitarist is held in great reverence in his native North East. Though admitting he played a pivotal role in his time with Paul Lamb I, for one, found his penchant for T-Bone Walker like mannerisms, at times, rather one dimensional and was frequently mystified by the 'Best Guitarist' accolades bestowed on him. These days I'm no longer baffled, since reforming The Blues Burglars, who stormed the UK scene a few years ago, his now unfettered playing has shown him to be a true master. His new band, The Real Deal, consists of bassist John (Captain) Morgan along with former Burglars - drummer Eddie Bowman and singer Billy Sharp. Johnny's sprightly soloing was featured heavily on both opening numbers, ('Good Morning Blues' and Little Walter's 'Last Night') with Billy's tones, by turns, containing shades of Satchmo and echoes of Eckstine respectivly. The singer then told us the humorous story of the band being paid off for not playing the Blues loud enough at a Heavy Metal club ("Does it matter what kind of music deafens you?") before his rich timbre was employed again on a silky smooth version of Tony Joe White's 'Did Somebody Make A fool Out Of You'. Howlin' Wolf was then unerringly mimicked on what Billy introduced as a Northumbrian Folk song. Though I find it hard to believe that the origins of Willie Dixon's 'Evil' could be found in the Border Ballads collected by Sir Walter Scott. Jon Cleary's 'Cheatin' On You' that followed jogged the 70's memory banks as it had Redbone's 'Witch Queen Of New Orleans' guitar riff running through it, before the band's sublime treatment of 'Need Your Love So Bad' launched shivers down the spine and the audience to a standing ovation. The penultimate number saw Billy temporarily taking over lead guitar duties, adding laid-back slide to 'Blood Red River'. High quality playing that had you wishing it had been featured more. The audience demanded an encore, and were left laughing and dancing as the roving eyed Billy hammed it up, crying out 'Bring On The Women' salaciously to a pulsating rhythm. Which was appropriate as the irrepressible Connie Lush was on next. To say that Connie has become an institution on the British Blues scene is an understatement - best songwriter? debatable - best female singer? fiercely arguable. No, what has kept her at the top for so long is that as a live performer she is incomparable. During the latter half of the Real Deals performance she was found mixing easily amongst many old friends in the crowd. A marked contrast to the pre-gig nerves in evidence last time she played at the festival in 2007 when stalwarts John Lewis (guitar) and Carl Woodward (drums) had just left Blues Shouter. Their replacements, Peter Wade and Rick Farrow respectively, allied to the steady anchor of bass-man Terry Harris have certainly given the Liverpool songstress new impetus. Indeed, I've never seen her look so trim and full of vim. Things got off to a flyer with Connie strutting her stuff, stating confidently that 'Blues Is My Business whilst Peter and guest keyboard player Nick, displaying tremendous interplay, grinned like fools. Business it may be but there's no doubting her love for the job. A huge cry from the audiences female contingent then rang out when 'Love Me Like A Man' was announced "For the girls", instantly followed by one from a lone male dissenter who immediately found himself included in the dedication "and for the transvestite in the corner". The number itself contained impassioned solos from both Pete and Nick. The latter's barrel house piano particularly catching to both eye and ear. Bobby Bland's 'Twenty-Four Hour Blues' that followed was, for me, the highlight of the set - Nick's subtle cascading flourishes underpinning Connie's tortured vocal emotions, her anguish almost palpable. But not content with finishing on a diminishing ebb-tide of gloom the band suddenly summoned up a storm, to finally shatter the singers fading hopes amidst a tidal wave of oscillating organ, wailing wah wah and crashing cymbals. Awesome! To be perfectly honest the pace only truly dropped once - Pete on understated slide accompanying Connie on the by now obligatory excellent "It Hurts Me Too", while the rest of the band took a well earned breather. Towards the end, after the crowdpleasing 'Dog', Gospel raised its head with Pete cranking up the volume on a frantic 'Jesus On The Mainline', (perhaps "Wade In The Water" would be more appropriate?) before Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good' provided the inevitable and incredible finale. There was never a doubt they wouldn't return to the stage, and the encore found them re-lighting a fresh torch on another of my personal favourites, Anne Peebles' 'You Keep Me Hanging On'. Another 100%+ set from one of the best. There is nobody who enjoys a festival more than Sam Kelly. When not on stage the master drummer is just as likely either to be running a workshop, (as he'd done here on the festival's acoustic stage between 12 and 1.30) chatting amicably with the crowd, or gleefully snapping photos with as much random abandon as a Japanese tourist on a UK heritage tour. The longer tea-time break helped disperse some of the impact of Connie's dynamite performance so by the time Sam and Station House (Paul Jobson, keys,v/c; Spy,bass,v/c; and new singer guitarist Tony Qunta) entered the fray the crowd was re-energised. So far each band had put their own stamp of humour on the festival and Sam and his merry men were, perhaps, the happiest of all. Their light-hearted clowning and banter belying staggering musicianship. The funky opener, 'Put Myself Back Together', with Tony on vocals, saw all four musicians indulging in jaw-dropping solos that left the mouth watering for what was yet to come. Then, 'I'm On Your Side', initially a swinging Jazz number, with Spy scatting at the mic, segued into the Yellowjackets 'Revelation' (Tony's guitar in overdrive) before making a brief trip to Jamaica and back. To say that Paul took the spotlight at his turns as the lead singer is putting it mildly. He was a revelation! Stamping his authority both vocally and instrumentally on Pete Green's 'Long Grey Mare', Jon Cleary's 'What The People Say' (JC And The Monster Gentleman an obvious touchstone for the band) and 'Stormy Monday', on which his falsetto wail beggared belief. A throbbing slap bass intro then announced a no holds barred version of Huey Lewis's 'Bad Is Bad', with Spy himself doing the singing. He then added Jimmy Dean ('Big Bad John') touches on triangle to the strong medicine administered, courtesy of Tony's smouldering guitar and vocal, in a potent 'Spoonful'. Thankfully, that wasn't the final helping, and the dance floor (busy throughout the set) then became 'sardine packed' and quite literally 'Shaky Ground' when Sam pulled his master-stroke in inviting Connie back to the stage to whoop it up on the Delbert McClinton classic for a stunning finish. The stamina award of the day had to go to Marcus Malone, his band and the endurance athletes who shouted, screamed, sang and hand clapped at his every prompt whilst gyrating 90% of the time out on the dance floor. Kath had now taken on the mantle of compere, and the man from Detroit, Michigan along with fellow guitarists Stuart Dixon and Ross Ewart, bassist Johan (Yo Yo) Buys and Rick Mayall Lookalike Chris Nugent on drums were coaxed to work their socks off in an extended set (due to the late arrival of headliner Hamilton Loomis) that rarely let up. 'One More Time', to my mind a smash hit had it been released as a single in less formulated times, opened proceedings. Marcus finishing the classic soulful ballad on a thrilling big-breath long note. Then on came the onslaught for the more energetically inclined. 'Supernatural Thing' rocked and swayed; the dancers concentrating hard to keep in time with three false endings and also coping admirably with the clickety-clack railway track hand claps necessary to 'Hear My Train' that followed. Then the lecherous 'Double D' saw Marcus activating his mojo, inviting the ladies in the audience to get down and dirty, while Stuart and Ross, in turns, fired off eye and ear popping solos. So far the leader had been content to leave his guitar on its stand, allowing his two young slingers to take the plaudits. But all that changed when the rockers anthem, 'Heart For Rent', saw him indulging in fiery pyrotechnics of his own before launching straight into the up-tempo shuffle of 'Tell Me Why'. Breathless stuff. But relief was at hand by way of a punters request resulting in a brand new slow blues ('If I Asked You To Stay' ?) that saw Marcus's fabulously rich tones reach unexplored emotional heights and Stuart's white-hot fretwork spew out more thickly shredded notes than an explosion in a marmalade factory wage office. In short, the guitar solo of the day. From that point on, bar one brief interlude for the marvellous velvet touch of 'Redline Blues', it was all action; with 'Christine', (all three guitarists combining on its distinctive chord progression) sounding like a lost Allman Brothers classic, a personal favourite. The exhausted band and audience eventually called it a day after grand solo spots for all the musicians had abounded on 'Find Me Somebody'. Which by that stage sounded like a frantic enquiry into the whereabouts of Mr Hamilton Loomis. It had been a long wait, and for one harp stopping moment (teething problems with his vacuum cleaner brush harmonica stand) it looked like we were going to be deprived of one aspect of the phenomenal musical talent that is Hamilton Loomis. "Thank you for your patience but I wanna make it sound good for you", and, after sorting out the hitch, he was more than true to his word. His band, fellow Americans Stratton Doyle (keys, sax, v/c) and bassist Kent Beatty were joined by Birmingham UK's own Jamie Little on drums and vocals. They began flexing their considerable musical muscles on the 'Pick Up The Pieces' -like funk that was 'Sneaking Up Behind You', quickly followed by the soulful 'That's Just Fine With Me' - a showcase for Hamilton's youthful tenor (like a more beefed up Aynsley Lister) and guitar skills. The swinging 'Working Real Hard' was next; and while I had no doubts that the band certainly were, they made it look so easy - Jamie and Kent, for one fleeting moment, imperceptibly switching to lock into a reggae beat. This rhythmic flexibility was a feature all set long, constantly allowing the unexpected to creep into the joyous mix of Blues, Rock, Funk and Soul. Hamilton and Doyle then indulged in lengthy harp and sax solos, with Jamie joining them for the vocal harmony chorus to 'What It Is', before the leader took his guitar on his first table/chair perambulation of the evening. 'Turnin' Heads' of everyone present. 'Time' provided yet another surprise. What started out as a killer slow blues to the mid-point refocused, with Hamilton, Doyle and Jamie blending their voices like the Impressions in their 60's heyday. An incredible brew, but more was to come. In particular the marathon guitar/sax battle that ensued during the twelve minute thumping beat colossus that was 'Voodoo Doll' - Hamilton and Doyle made space for themselves out on the heaving dance floor for each, in turn, to fire off riffs from 'Sunshine Of Your Love', 'Baker Street', 'La Bamba' and unbelievably 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow'; because that's where they took things next. Combining to soar in a continually quickening wall of sound that I can only describe as like witnessing the upward spiral take-off of some vast alien space ship. Absolutely mindblowing. The tribute to Bo Diddley (Hamilton's late friend and mentor) was no less riveting. Switching to a Bo signed box guitar, Hamilton, backed by Doyle's rippling keys, instigated rhythmic audience hand clapping and singing ('Who Do You Love') before yet another segue took us into 'Roadrunner', with the genial Texan firstly using drum sticks then astonishingly Doyle's saxophone as a slide for his guitar. Just when you thought they could stretch the musical envelope no further the penultimate 'Slow Lover' proved the exception to the rule - first, rootsy harmonica was joined by funky sax, next, those three part harmonies were at it again, then interwoven sections of hoedown harp and rocking guitar took precedence before the latter harp excursion suddenly made way for a full blown snatch of 'American Woman', with the three front men jumping up and down like a team of synchronised trampolinists with a last chance of making the Olympic squad. All this ending in a catchy chorus finish! The purists might argue the validity of this kind of cocktail as being true to the Blues, but nobody here was complaining. What is obvious is the high calibre of musicians needed to play it. In this Doyle, Kent and Jamie can be described as true Hamilton Academicals. The grooving finale, 'Get My Blues On', described as "Two percent Blues, Ninety eight percent funky stuff", saw the guitar wielding Hamilton determined to cross the breadth of the room without touching the floor (his sure footedness over the chairs and tables leading me to believe he could well have been a mountain goat in a former life). A fabulous finish to a fabulous day of Blues that I think was the best Guisborough festival yet. I strongly advise those who haven't been to try out this most friendly of events. Great people, great music! Martin Byrom
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