Finlay Quaye

The solo acoustic tour, so beloved these days, usually means one of three things – a rare opportunity to see a genuine talent in intimate surroundings; a cheap opportunity for an artist who’s “been away” to reintroduce themselves to their audience; or a cheap opportunity for a has-been to ring one more round out of the live circuit. And to be honest, when it comes to Finley Quaye, we could be talking any or all of the above. Two things immediately strike when he saunters on stage. One, given that it’s six years since he first appeared with Maverick A Strike, is that he looks amazingly young. Two, his voice is in fine form. Given his troubles of late, both are surprising – not as much as the nature of the show though. Within the first four songs he has tossed off two covers (a Beck newie and ‘Astral Weeks’) and mumbled his way through a couple of his own tunes.

He announces a song as “one you might know” and is faced with rows of blank faces. For a while this ramshackle approach is quite endearing but it soon starts to pall.
Not a great guitarist by any means, he bashes out the same four chords for every song and steadfastly chooses to ignore any of the material that probably brought the majority of the sold-out house here in the first place. Despite the fact that this is a venue where someone can play solo and the place will fall totally silent, Quaye finds himself faced with a growing cacophony of noise as he ploughs through yet more covers and unfamiliar originals. When he returns to encore with excellent support band The Cornerstones in tow, the sense of relief is tangible and the atmosphere lifts, yet he is not really worthy of the reaction that he eventually receives. Apparently the album is quite lovely but what the hell he was playing at tonight is a mystery.