Mike Nisbet
It’s common to use the term ‘troubadour’ to describe a singer-songwriter, but in Mike Nisbet’s case, it is a most apt title. His songs sound like they are plucked from a bygone era of campfires, the old West and heartbreak. They are replete with weariness – “I’m not long for this world”, he sings on one. His lyrical creations are often tragic, raw and all-too-real characters – “A voice that’s too rough from smoking.”
He complements this with an assured fingerpicking guitar technique, harmonica, and the requisite flannel shirt. Truly, he would not look out of place playing in a remote bar in New Mexico.
Chris Bradley
Chris Bradley has built a substantial local reputation through an original sound. This is certainly reflected in his confident banter with the audience. His hollow-body electric guitar can growl with menace when required, or jangles as he threads jaunty countermelodies against chords. He taps on bass drum and tambourine with his feet to add a subtle driving beat.
‘The Man I Love’ is a poignant but uplifting tribute to his late father. “The time has come to use the strength he gave me. And I’ll do you proud.” He has the gift for a great hook, best epitomised on ‘To My Ears’. Once heard, it will be hummed for many days. The vocals and guitar play around each other in catchy syncopation. Chris Bradley plays music that would sound at home on the radio of a Dodge pickup driving through a desert night, while a spaniel sticks its head out the window. Elsewhere, he meanders through White-Album era Beatles to gospel. It’s all rather fine.
Chris Helme
Following an initial greeting full of effortless banter, he wastes no time in playing Seahorses favourite ‘Hello’. The voice is clear, authoritative, emotive and capable of the occasional room-stopping roar – it takes no imagination to see how he has achieved his success. Likewise, the crowd are enthusiastic to sing along, particularly on such well known numbers as ‘You Can Talk To Me’. In fact, the crowd are so keen they are verging on radge, and to his credit, Chris shows an adeptness for dealing with it.
The songs, both old and new, are anthemic. He has a keen talent for matching vigorously strummed guitar with a soaring melody. The room is swept along with it. His cover of bluesy ‘Lorelei’ not only demonstrates a sparse yet assured fingerpicked guitar, but a roaring vocal that is as unexpected as it is jaw-dropping.
There’s something refreshing about someone who has achieved notable success embracing their rightfully lauded back catalogue. Far too often, older songs are treated with derision by their writers. There is no need for a canon to be reduced to only the most recent offerings for them to shine on their own merit. And when he kicks into ‘Blinded By The Sun’, there’s a lot of happy people here tonight.
