As part of Oxjam, an initiative to raise money for Oxfam through music events, the first ‘Web of maya’ (named after 18th Century philosopher Shankara’s views on individualism of course) took place on 27 March at Beckett’s park in Leeds.
Brainchild of singer-songwriter Ben Kitching, the night was pitched as an inventive mix of acoustic/electric acts so I came along with a pad in my pocket and a big wad of spare change.
Rob Marsh was the first act of the night and cut a fine figure, looking somewhat like a hairy daddy long-legs as he ambled onto the stage. Revealing that this was his first live gig my expectations briefly wavered but nerves did nothing to subdue the performance.
Launching into his first song, the dark Nick Cave-esque lyrics combined with some solid bluesy fingerpicking and tricky prog rhythm changes were well-received as indicated by a shout of “I love you Jesus” from a female audience member - perhaps a quip on Rob’s long hair rather than some epiphanic evangelical outburst.
As the set progressed Rob demonstrated his dexterity, switching between flat-picking and fingerstyle in E minor, somewhat reminiscent of Rev Gary Davis’s ‘Death don’t have no mercy’ which underpinned his evocatively abstract lyrics and raw voice. This depth helped to alleviate (although not entirely), the criticism that most songs were maybe a shade too long.
The final song, revealed as a birthday present for one of Rob’s friends, was particularly popular and lyrics such as: “Michael umbongo, set me free like the Democratic Republic of Congo” were both funny and fitting - this is Oxjam after all man.
Rob was followed by the event organizer, Ben Kitching, who despite having shorter hair than his predecessor made up for it with an impressive beard.
Kitching’s style was more melodic than Robs, with songs often following a more prosaic progression. However his voice had a soothing yet melancholy quality and lyrics were poetic, establishing himself as a bearded bard figure, expounding his own inventive spin on psych folk.
A highlight of the set was a cover of Devendra Banhart’s ‘Sight to Behold’ where Kitching captivated the audience with an emotion-drenched interpretation. The semi-acoustic guitar he played did buzz occasionally as a result of some heavy-handed strumming which diluted the overall effect at points.
Mid-way through the set I had to remind myself this wasn’t Dylan’s notorious 1966 gig at the Royal Albert Hall, as out of nowhere, Kitching took the almost unfathomable decision to ‘go electric’ inciting cries of ‘Judas’ from the well-informed crowd.
This proved to be a turning-point in the set as the previous buzzing dissipated and the sound was all together more crisp, taking on a more Jeff Buckley feel which better suited Ben’s vocal range.
The set ended with a beat-poem which was a brave move as the lively audience awaited the heavier Little Black Hearts and began to get restless. Kitching obviously has a flair for using language to create mystical imagery but the poem seemed to alienate rather than entertain the crowd.
I had heard good things about four-piece The Little Black Hearts brand of dirty rock and roll but was ultimately disappointed by their set. The aesthetics of the band seemed mis-matched as two members looked like proper old-school rockers with long hair and tattoos while the lead-singer wore a retro Batman T-shirt disrupting the visual continuity.
The band were tight and the sound was definitely bar-room brawl, spit in your face blues but it was all too generic and just not really that exciting, as evidenced by the lack of any real reaction from the crowd.
The final band of the night, Nostrovia, seemed to have already garnered a substantial following as chairs were quickly repositioned at the front of the room.
The band started and had a great sound that followed in a jazz-band tradition, an instrumental mix of world music, jazz-infused riffs that had people dancing maniacally - most notably the daddy long legs.
Without getting too Freudian, the lead-bassist seemed like a repressed singer to me, occasionally blurting into his mic before withdrawing and giggling sheepishly. They were obviously all technical musicians but my overriding impression was that of a great band lacking a singer.
The night was definitely a success and although it seemed like everybody in the room knew each other, this only added to the convivial atmosphere, helping to raise much needed cash for a very worthy cause.
Words: Alex Steingold
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