Having witnessed Johnny Flynn perform solo late last year in front of an all too gushing audience, the opportunity to catch him and his band of merry music makers making a barn-stomping racket to drown out the garrulous cries of well-to-do students adorning the finest cloths from their parents old wardrobes – bless them – was a most welcome invitation.
After commendable support from Dry The River, another East-London folk outfit to keep your ears out for, Flynn and co don’t mess around, they get on and batter into ‘Cold Bread’, the sound is thick and robust and the five-piece band seem relaxed and playful, making it look too easy almost. Tonight’s performance was re-scheduled due to Flynn losing his voice when the original gig was due to take place, Flynn thanks the half-full room for showing up graciously.
Treated to a fair selection of songs from both his classic-sounding debut record, A Larum, and stellar new effort, Been Listening, Flynn comes across as an intelligent, warm and charming front-man. Songs such as ‘The Box’ and ‘The Wrote and The Writ’ are performed with gusto and one can’t help but grin like a Cheshire cat watching the band enjoy themselves. Newer songs such as ‘Churlish May’ and ‘Kentucky Pill’ are devoid of their brassy tooting tonight but don’t suffer one iota, and it’s actually quite a treat to hear these songs without all the flags and whistles, holding their own as a testament to the song writing. Another highlight was during Howl, a song from the new record, when Flynn does his finest Roy Castle impression pulling a trumpet out from what seemed like nowhere and hooting the fanfare refrain with glee.
It does seem a tad unjust that Johnny Flynn, who reeks of genuine talent, honesty and lyrical astuteness, should be playing to such a marginal crowd especially when he paved the way for the vast success of many of his peers, who are credible but ultimately lesser acts of the same ilk. Such is life. Nonetheless it doesn’t tarnish the enjoyment of tonight’s engaging and sterling performance.