My brothers first review - well done bro! gets it from me of course (the talent that is not the beard!) "First on was a man called Damien Flynn, who had a fine beard and an Irish brogue. And also brogues. He sang with a voice that felt like the roots of an oak tree. Does that make sense? I guess you had to be there. Listening to him made me feel like I was tucked up warm in a narrow, rolling cot somewhere far out to sea. Even his ‘mmm’s were perfect: you felt them vibrating in your heart like a cello. I could cry just thinking about it. “You have roused this old pile of makeshift bones into a carnival affair” We were reduced to a small crowd of heart broken children by that voice. Goosebumps, tears, shivers, erect nipples…you name it, we felt it. After he’d finished I thrust myself at him and found myself blurting out ‘It was like a pirate captain calling me home’ to which wearily replied ‘It’s the beard’. And then I TOUCHED it. Unsolicited. It wasn’t as if he’d said ‘Oh, would you like to touch my beard?’ and I’d said ‘Cheers yes I would actually’. No; I just watched my hand dart up and stroke his face as if it belonged to some other rapey lunatic. To his credit, he didn’t immediately have me thrown out and locked up – he even looked quite touched (probably because I was touching his face). That’s how I’ll be remembering it anyway. Listen to Fires of Grace by Damien Flynn Then came a man called ‘Black Spot’. I’m sure he was very, very good but by that point I was a sail boat adrift on an ocean of longing that only Damien Flynn could captain. So I don’t remember much of it. Sorry. I had also guzzled about four glasses of church White Wine by that point" howlblog.co.uk/5082/live-review-smoke-fairies/
Posted on: Tue, 27 Aug 2013 13:52:17 +0000
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