Live Review: Richard Hawley – Astoria, London

admin on Feb 14th 2008

Jarvis Cocker once likened Richard Hawley to an iron fist in a velvet glove…and it’s easy to see why. Barking with a brash Sheffield accent, the pre-amble to Hawley’s tender love songs tend to be peppered with a string of expletives, marking a stark contrast from the graceful, serenading voice that warrants a boudoir-styled backdrop befitting Roy Orbison. Interestingly, a similar dynamic is reflected amongst his audience; as the show begins, an ongoing exchange of biting wisecracks between a group of gruff cabbies, surly labourers and pot-bellied roadies abruptly falls silent. Instantly under Hawley’s charm, we’re barely through the first song before they’re draping an arm over each other’s shoulder, engaging in an entirely different sort of male bonding as they imitate the singer’s croon with gusto.

Such has been the success of Hawley’s romantic, slow-burning opus Coles Corner and its top 10 follow-up, Lady’s Bridge, that the make-up of the crowd is not limited to those who would have been Teddyboys a generation ago. In fact it says something of Hawley’s cachet that the evening is part of NME-sponsored concerts that include the likes of Babyshambles and Hard-Fi. Yet as much anticipation in the mainstream press as there was for Lady’s Bridge, both enthusiasts and detractors alike greeted the release with the words “more of the same.” Here, however, newer songs such as ‘Valentine’ and ‘Roll River Roll’ fit nicely alongside the older material, stripped of their sweeping string crescendos and benefiting instead from solid renditions by a relatively tight band (although as a guitarist first and foremost, Hawley’s few stints on lead render his accompanying acoustic role rather wasteful).

Apart from the interruption of a drunken heckler (promptly dealt with through a barrage of quick fire comebacks), the setlist flows as smoothly as Hawley’s well-slicked quiff.

It’s only with ‘Lady Solitude’ that attention spans seem momentarily on the wane, prompting Hawley to ask the crowd “are you still with us?” before putting the chatter down to the NME “guestlisters.”

Drawing the night to a close with covers of Ricky Nelson’s ‘Lonesome Town’ and Hank Williams’ ‘I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry’, one gets the impression that on the cusp of St. Valentine’s Day, these are specifically intended for the broken hearted – or in the case of the squabbling couple behind me, the soon to be.

Bidding goodnight with some heartfelt words of appreciation, Hawley ducks off stage having delivered his (admittedly limited) repertoire with a disarming affection that doesn’t impinge on his otherwise ‘iron fist’ masculinity; the results affecting enough, it would appear, to move even the most hardened of onlookers.