I played a gig on Thursday night. That in itself is not a massively unusual piece of reportage. However, the evening itself presented an array of delightfully unexpected and even eccentric occurrences that make this self indulgent review all the more of a treat; both in the writing and hopefully the reading also.

The evening was ‘promoted’ by Dead or Alive in a grimy little corner of Kentish Town. Officially the venue is called Heroes although this is in fact the reincarnation of the now deceased Flowerpot Bar which in itself was the spluttering and somewhat gaunt phoenix that had arisen from the metaphorical flames of the once famed Bullet Bar. Which is a roundabout way of saying that this is a building plagued by identity anxieties. That also means it is not a venue blessed with a regular crowd of loyal local attendees. Given that Thursday night saw temperatures plunging into the sort of sub-zero figures that makes the Metro dizzy with breathless ‘Bird-Bath Freeze Threatens Local Sparrow Population!’ headlines, it was a fair bet that numbers would be thin on the ground.

With my already cautious expectations held in check, I was still somewhat surprised to find that the snow-flecked arrival of my sister Jennie and I marked us out as the sole attendees thus far. I was even more disenchanted to note that the venue was apparently aspiring for the sort of meat locker ambience that tends to suit arctic explorers and polar mammals. Also, the only real ale on tap was tragically unavailable, presumably due to frozen pipes. Undeterred, Jen and I warmed (yes warmed) our hands around chilled pints of anaemic larger and awaited the thronging crowds.

Half an hour later, and it transpired that the initial bill of five acts had been whittled down to an elite core of three; myself, the lovely Sophie Yau and the charming Cameron J. Niven. The other two promised artists presumably perished en route in the wild white blizzards of North London. Before being informed of this earth-shattering news, my sister and I had been entertained by a bizarre smorgasbord of songs on the in house pa (presumably randomly shuffled on the barman’s iPod). This provided a suitably surreal soundtrack for the film that was silently projected onto the wall next to the stage; Steven Shainberg’s ‘Secretary’. Yes, that’s the somewhat notorious movie featuring scenes of intense spanking and Maggie Gyllenhaal in suspenders. Seeing as it was apparently on loop all evening, I knew it was going to be an uphill battle to hold the crowd’s attention. Or my own for that matter.

By 9pm with the audience suitably buoyed by a select crew of Harlesden’s most delightful community, Sophie kicked off the night’s entertainment, ably accompanied by her fellow guitarist Kevin who switched between luscious electric guitars and deftly picked banjo to frame Sophie’s graceful melodies. Their cover of Gillian Welch’s ‘Hard Times’ was truly breathtaking. It is in such moments, when the air holds still for a minute with nothing but simple music of beautiful clarity and snow slowly drifting past the window, that one remembers life is good. Cold, but good.

I followed up with 30 minutes of my trusty back catalogue, delighted to be providing a whimsical musical backdrop to Robert California’s silent but vigorous on-screen escapades. That left Cameron J Niven to close out the night with a nicely honed set of his original folksy material, concluding with a Bob Dylan cover that was perhaps unwisely opened up for some crowd participation. My Bostonian friend Joel- never backwards in coming forward- leapt up onto the stage with alarming alacrity and provided some hearty Dylan-esque vocals alongside Niven’s silky guitar skills and more subtly handsome voice. I don’t think Cameron quite knew what hit him. A bit like Maggie really.

So with the blitzkrieg of Joel’s on-stage cameo still resonating in our ears and Maggie’s contortions burning in our retinas, we wandered back out into the frosty night skies and made our weary ways back home. All in all it was a grand evening, with the threat of cold nihilistic emptiness overcome by friendship, laughter, genuinely wonderful music and BDSM. Certainly one to remember.