Komedia, 07 December 2009
When your a twenty something singer/songwriter from Devon, it’s risky business. Well-travelled John Mayer types who like surfing and Joni Mitchell are about two dreary heartfelt songs away from becoming the next James Blunt.
Sorry about that (to any James Blunt fans who aren’t thinking ‘fair call’ right about now), but for someone who possesses all the qualities linked with those sort of charades it is difficult not to have any other preconceptions. Ben Howard’s pretty liked though, toured with Xavier Rudd and played with many other grooved up male singer/songwriters with deep meaningful lyrics who just don’t care what you think of them.
Ben Howard has a nice sort of humbleness about him. Just a chilled out kid from Devon, only 22, loving life and having been playing guitar and writing since he was a kid, why wouldn’t he be!? Also having played at the Café de la Danse in Paris and other black and white movie settings, he gives off a sort of jazz musician jamming at 5am and drenched deeply in cigarette smoke sort of vibe; which wins over the more cynical of my judgements.
This probably makes the Komedia Studio Bar a perfect setting for this night. A small, intimate gathering of hip artistic types drinking glasses of red wine and swaying slightly to the mellow guitar sound. It’s a shame that bloody smoking ban still applies or we’d be living the dream, I really think someone should write to the government with a petition to allow it every now and then as a mood setter.
As one man behind me commented that Howard’s ‘far too good looking for one of those’ and sweetly humble. After mocking himself by pointing out that he seems to take song writing a little too seriously, he then said with mild sarcasm, “This is a new one, and it’s semi-political… I’m trying to improve my song writing and diversify and mature… ay, there’s nothing wrong with that”.
It wasn’t quite Bob Dylan-worthy but it was a fine start, all about celebrity and generally being rubbish to the environment; or at least most first attempts are. His voice was stirring, it seemed he’d tried to concur the vibrato at some point and come up with something of his own, really undeniably beautiful.
Oh, how I wanted to dislike this man! He was like Damian Rice but ever so slightly less floppy, he even comes with a pretty violinist/singer by the name of India. He tapped away rhythms on the side of his guitar like all those bedroom guitarists try to copy off YouTube, damn cool. And the applause shocked and stunned them, grins from ear to ear. Bless.
Words by Kate Elliott
myspace.com/benhoward
