Happy 2012 to the Interweb. For those of you who regularly visit this space but find your hopes dashed at the lack of witty, urbane and delightful reportage,  you need not be crushed with disappointment any longer. As of this week, I have committed to throwing off some slapdash, sporadic and highly subjective reviews and reports of my gigs and adventures about town. It is not a blog per se, but you should now hopefully find at least a bi-weekly musing relating to the people, places and perversions that I encounter as a gigging musician in London.

So post-knee operation (physio ongoing) I’m back in the land of the living, having just played a lovely gig at Bethnal Green’s Gallery Cafe last night. Folklore pulled out all the stops and put on a beautiful evening dusted with fairy lights, lush acoustic balladry and organic cider. The couple of flies in an otherwise delicious ointment were (a) my tearing a fingernail during my second track of the evening, leading to a bloodied and inhibited fingerpicking hand, and (b) one audience member whose mouth was vying with the PA system for ‘loudest thing in the room’. And it is safe to say that her mouth won that battle, despite her being sat right at the back of the venue. I would probably be annoyed if it weren’t so bloody impressive. I mean, fair play to be sufficiently disinhibited to literally shout a raucous conversation with your friends during an intimate acoustic set.

The music was top notch though. I was privileged to share a stage with Andy Oliveri and Oliver Chapman, both of whom serenaded the cream of the East End’s music lovers with careful and lovely acoustic ballads. Mr Chapman’s gorgeous fingerpicking was occasionally accompanied the subtle bass playing of a friend, and Mr Oliveri fired up some soulful harmonica to compliment his heartfelt Damien Rice-esque tunes. As for me, I threw in a cover of The Magnetic Fields’ ‘The Book of Love’ for a New Year treat, trying out a bit of percussive-guitar-slapping-try-not-to-spray-blood-on-my-soundboard accompaniment. I was quite happy with it in the end. Mid-set banter included showing the audience my broken nail, resulting in my unintentionally flipping them the bird (it was my middle finger). In retrospect, it’s probably not the best tactic for endearing oneself to one’s audience. I also played ‘How Long (Fran’s Song’) live for the first time. It’s not usually one I bust out for gigs, but seeing as my illustrious and dear friend Fran was actually in the audience, it felt like the perfect track to close the set on.

All in all, it was a grand night. Here’s hoping for super fast healing skills so that my nail has sufficiently renewed itself in time for next weekend’s gig at Tunbridge Wells’ newly refurbished ‘The Grey Lady.’ I look forward to seeing you there.