The uprising of the singer-songwriter has brought us some of the greatest music of the modern era. But let’s not forget that for every excellent singer-songwriter, there have been countless average-to-awful also-rans. The singer-songwriter is closely associated with the acoustic folk singer, the major difference being that they write and perform their own material, instead of faithfully re-applying traditional songs. But the mere fact of performing their own material isn’t the point of essential importance. Rather, what matters is that what they’re saying something worthwhile, and doing it with enough individual appeal to make us want to listen.
Tonight’s headliner Marlon Williams has all the trappings of a quintessential singer-songwriter. His songs related details of intriguing, often malign, desperate or skewwhiff characters. He adopted various venerated genres – folk, country, bluegrass and soul – and carried out enough subtle transgressions to push the conventions forward. He sung in a powerful, affective voice, which ranged from a down-low drunken weep to a yodelling castrato. He conversed with the audience, cracking jokes specifically for our benefit and making it known that our presence was valued. And as splendid as the performance was, it never felt too slick or over-rehearsed.
But to classify Williams as a singer-songwriter isn’t entirely justified, for one simple reason: he didn’t write a significant portion of the songs he performed tonight. Who wrote them? Well, there was The Zombies’ The Time of the Season, Billy Fury’s Lost Without You, and the stunning re-arrangement of the traditional When I Was A Young Girl. Butreally, when evaluating the impact of tonight’s performance – its relevance, entertainment value, personability, and technical marvels – none of that really matters. Tonight was truly Marlon Williams’ night.
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
Loved: Laura Jean. Oh, Laura.
Hated: Marlon Williams’ overwhelming supply of good traits.
Drank: Out of the ale house and into the jailhouse.
