What better way to kick off the final night of Club Uncut at The Great Escape than with a Brooklyn bar band – or indeed, a bar solo artist, the wily R'n'B raconteur Hans Chew.
The weather has turned out glorious in Brighton on the second day of The Great Escape – but Friday's bill at Club Uncut is of a decidely darker bent.
May comes round again, and with it another Great Escape, one of the year's most satisfying festivals – not only because of its setting in Brighton's many beautiful venues, but because we at Uncut are again putting on our own three nights of some of the most interesting new bands around.
A couple or so weeks ago, Jack White requested that no photos to be taken at his London show: the audience should put down their phones and concentrate on the gig in a different way, was his implied suggestion.
Jerry Scheff is surely not an unfamiliar name to readers of Uncut. I’d wager a horse most of you have more than one album in your collection that feature him on bass. Among the highlights of a lengthy and illustrious CV, he can count gigs with Elvis Presley, The Doors, Bob Dylan, Elvis Costello, Todd Rundgren, Richard Thompson, Bette Midler, Crowded House, Johnny Cash, T-Bone Burnett, Roy Orbison, Suzanne Vegas and Jimmie Dale Gilmour.
Already, this year has provided plenty of good gear for fans of music documentaries. We've had Kevin McDonald's Bob Marley film and more recently, Lawrence Of Belgravia has capped a resurgence of interest in the idiosyncratic career of the Felt singer.
Like many music fans of a certain age, John Peel turned me on to a lot of music I may otherwise only have stumbled upon much later, if at all. I remember, for instance, in July 1969, listening to his Top Gear show one weekend and hearing something that lit me up like a burning house. It didn’t sound like much else he played that afternoon and as I recall he was afterwards not altogether enthusiastic about it, as if he as wondering why, beyond the fact that it was new and wouldn’t have yet been widely heard, he’d even bothered playing it.
Simi Stone was a member of the now apparently retired The Duke & The King, alongside Simone Felice. Tonight she’s opening for Simone at the Bush Hall, a solo turn that starts with Simi on fiddle, playing a lament that sounds like it may have been first heard a century ago, a keening in the Appalachians or somewhere similarly remote and steeped in mystery and drizzle.
In 1570, a few years before he became preoccupied with alchemical quests, heretical visions and attempts to divine the language of angels, Dr John Dee was commissioned to write a government report on the state of England.