Bit of a last minute jobbie this one, and a bit odd it was too. I'm starting to seriously dislike the Glee Club. Nothing wrong with the line-ups, staff, sound or even the overpriced drinks. No, the real bug bear is the bloody seating. You're crammed in like freakin' sardines on bum numbing chairs...it makes the whole thing like a School Assembly. Aaagggghhh. Rant over.
Godfrey Salter (aka Al from The Courtesy Group) kicked things off in fine form by annoying most of the audience who clearly weren't expecting a poetry set from a slightly mad Brummie. As a Courtesy Group fan I loved it, sure it takes some thought and getting in to but judging by the cheers when he announced his last poem most of my fellow audience members would disagree (I guess none of them know he's Fyfe's brother either). The next act was fine. Yes, I've forgotten his name...it happens sometimes, especially at my age. I'm 92 you know.
This was Fyfe's first solo gig. Away from his fellow Guillemots (who delivered one of my gigs of the year a few months back) he was clearly a little nervous and the fact that he had his back to the audience for most of the set didn't help to establish the kind of rapport that you look for in a great gig. That being said, the voice and passion was a strong as ever. Perhaps a guest slot or two from other artists to break up the set a little (and give Fyfe someone to bounce off) might make for a more rounded experience in the future (can you tell I'm being diplomatic...good).
No pictures 'cos my knees were rammed up round my ears thanks to the generous leg room afforded by Messrs Glee and Club. Grrrrrr.
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