The Slambovian Circus of Dreams @ the Waterfront
One Slambovian hell of an evening
It is a brave promoter who knowingly goes head-to-head with Euro 2016 football, a live television debate two days before the EEC referendum, and the last chance of an early night before setting off for Glastonbury. However, in the case of The Slambovian Circus of Dreams, one senses that even if there was a free drink-as-much-as-you-can Naked Wine tasting (with or without the capitals) going on in the room next door, this band's stalwart fans would still turn up for the gig. Certainly at The Waterfront last night I sensed that I was one of the few present who had not already seen them perform at least once before.
It is also a warm and humid post-solstice June evening, complete with strawberry full moon. With a line up that featured local folksters Long Shore Drift and modern country band Sam Coe and The Long Shadows, it looked like we had gotten a mini-festival of our own. Whilst I love The Waterfront to bits as a venue, I secretly wished that we could have all piled into a boat, then floated down the Wensum, perhaps as far as the meadows at Trowse Newton, and set up stage there instead.
Certainly it is warm under the stage lights, and Long Shore Drift singer Tim is using a bar towel to mop his brow in between numbers. I've not seen them play before, and again cannot help but wish I was sat outside with a pint of Wherry. But it is a pleasant mix of jigs, tunes and songs, and with contributions on whistles, mandolas and guitars, I am happy. A perfect band for the potential re-opening of The Berney Arms, perhaps?
As everyone knows, horses sweat but ladies merely glow, and Sam Coe is not only glowing but sparkling in her glittery boots tonight. Again, this is the first time I have seen her and The Long Shadows live on stage, and it is an impressive performance, especially from drummer Eddie who had only 45 minutes notice before stepping in behind the kit. Sam has a great voice, and the self-penned songs are delivered with gusto, even if the lyrics tend to err a little on the side of safety. The closing number, No Sympathy, pushes the envelope a little further and for that reason is my favourite.
The Slambovian Circus of Dreams originally formed in Sleepy Hollow, New York, and whilst they now reside further up the Hudson Valley they have lost none of that big city pizzazz. Their appearance is Burton-esque, like characters straight out of Big Fish. Guitarist Sharkey McEwen sports a pair of patterned loons that change colour underneath the lights, Tink Lloyd is an 80's amalgam of Cyndi Lauper and Helena Bonham-Carter, whilst front man Joziah Longo is the crusty new-age Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, complete with tweed jacket and straw topper. Together with drummer Eric Puente they present a genre-bending tour de force that visits the worlds of Syd Barrett, Allman Brothers and Pete Seeger, and all within the space of a few songs.
There is a Bowie tribute in the form of a cover of Life On Mars, a re-working of Dylan's Just Like A Woman, and an original song, I Wish, that dips in and out of both Townsend's Pinball Wizard and Johnny Cash's Folsom Prison Blues. But it is their own storming opener The Grand Slambovians, the theramin and space guitar combination in Flapjacks From The Sky, and the climactic Trans-Slambovian Bipolar Express that stamp the band's identity and authenticity into the evening.
Sam and Steve from The Long Shadows are invited back on stage for the encore, a cover of Hank Williams' Hey Good Lookin', and then we all spill out into the late evening air of King Street. We may have missed the football and the debate. We may not be off to Glastonbury in the morning. But we sure had one Slambovian hell of an evening.
