It can be strange sometimes how some of the best singer-songwriters are so eager to play the work of other writers rather than exclusively sing their own compositions. From the moment he walks onstage tonight, casually discarding his coat on the floor, esteemed British tunesmith Chris Wood is chatty and giving off the air of someone who’s just stood up to play a bit of impromptu music for friends in his living room. He ponders on his capacity to be a one-man Burt Bacharach tribute act, then proceeds to play a set that showcases some wonderful songs from his catalogue, regularly punctuated by the music of others.
The selections are far from random. Chris is open to admitting that certain songs just speak to him, inspiring the desire to get inside them. ‘The Wild Wild Berry’, a folk tune with numerous interpretations to its name is one such example; here credit goes to a John Kirkpatrick recording as his route in. But then he follows this deep, brooding ballad about a poisoning with a new song of his own about an old sofa. And the peculiar thing is that both pieces carry the same emotional punch. Just consider for a moment how parting company with an item of home furnishing that has been around for decades can affect you. Something that has been a part of numerous domestic moments of great significance. Suddenly you’re gouging at the raw fibres of life. Chris is the kind of chap who thinks about this stuff a lot; that sofa had seen children grow up, witnessed birthdays, endured Christmases and family fallouts. Maybe people who are no longer around had spent time on it? And Chris himself had ended many a Saturday evening alone with it nodding off to ‘Match Of The Day’ on TV. I related to it a bit too much probably, speaking as someone who has worn the same hat for over 20 years; I too have placed disproportionate significance on an everyday object.
The tiny details are where Chris Wood finds penetrative depths. He knows it too, recalling how an art school principal told him he has “a remarkable eye for trivia” and confessing to simply thinking, “yes, I’ll take that”. His dilemma is that a modern topical songwriter has a plentiful supply of current issues to get his teeth into, but are today’s audiences sick of hearing about Brexit and Trump? Well, if anyone can get around that today it is surely the man seducing us with song tonight. He just sings of the everyday world, then slides politics under the door in tunes such as one inspired by “an old allotment neighbour who, like a great many people who voted to leave, he’s now dead”.
‘None The Wiser’ is a brutally accurate portrait of modern poverty, Chris may consider that he played it too fast, but I didn’t feel that; the grinding pace of tonight’s rendition suited the rising tide of overwhelming financial pressure shadowing the song just fine. Global warming isn’t an easy subject to look at without falling into cliché but ‘Strange Cadence’ avoids such pitfalls. Perhaps it’s because Chris rather welcomes the notion that the Earth could one day take back the reigns from the parasites who are causing it such peril? Moving on, in a heartbeat, our man can switch to lighter fare; such as the non-league football referencing ‘Only A Friendly’ or a reading of Jake Thackray’s observations on married life ‘To Do With You’. It’s all played in a manner that unifies the material. Wood plays semi-acoustic, periodically adjusting settings on his amp to increase echo or reduce bass. The best comparison I can make is that it reminds me a little of John Martyn, there’s a tempo and good vibration that rings through all of tonight’s music. And I should add, when I last saw John Martyn in this venue he was nowhere near as switched on as Chris Wood this evening (but that’s another story).
We are treated to moving performances of ‘This Love Won’t Let You Fail’ and ‘So Much To Defend’ although the catalogue is of such sizeable quality now that, not all his greatest songs are guaranteed to be included in a set. By mixing and matching his own acute compositions with the great songwriters of the twentieth century, the high-water marks of Motown and traditional epics that are centuries old crucial connections are made. The impact in all these pieces is in the finer feelings. Not the whole widescreen settings of civil war or the ongoing Brexit debates, but in innocuous minutiae of the social and domestic day-to-day lives that people lead. That’s where the real stuff happens. And when your narrator has the eye and ear that Chris Wood shows, not just tonight but repeatedly through his catalogue of work, this music simply speaks to you. Recognition, familiarity and muted senses are nudged back into life. These observations do frequently chime with your own life experiences. As with his earlier statement of how “we don’t choose the songs, the songs choose us”, so too his audience cannot help but be drawn to attentively listen in awe to his work. Here in front of us all is one of the few song writers on the circuit today who can artfully present the lives and situations of the world around us. And do it so beautifully. I shall defer to another reviewer for my final comment. Wood tells us tonight that the best review he ever received came from a lady who approached post-gig and said, “that was medicinal”. Like his best songs, that short feedback articulately, succinctly and humorously makes its point. Chris Wood does indeed give us the medicine we need to carry on to the next day.
Photo Credit: Rob Blackham