I never asked Langhorne Slim for an interview at Pickathon, and I think it was due to a needless inferiority complex. See, I was contacted by a publicity company about his new album – one of the shiny ones from New York with a good logo, an impressive portfolio of bands, and with a habit of sending a string of stellar press quotes with each email – so I basically assumed he was likely to think Song, by Toad somewhat beneath his station. Having actually met the man himself at the festival, and found him to be one of the nicest, most unaffected and most sincere chaps you could ever hope to meet, I really regret not asking. But never mind, one for the future, hopefully.

The performance was another one up at the Woods Stage, all leafy backdrop and enchanted splinters of sunlight. It was a pretty basic setup, but Sean is one of these guitarists who can make an almighty racket when he chooses, or slow things down to a wonderful suffusion of sadness and regret, which makes for a really emotionally varied and captivating show. He seems to have quite a visceral connection with music too, because within a song he asks us all to stand up and show him that we love to dance (which I don’t, incidentally, but it’s the thought that counts). In fact the dancing theme surfaces a couple of times actually, and between that, the desire to have the audience on its feet and the physical contortions which performing his songs seems to require bring the picture of someone who is simply allowing the music to course through him straight to you, with barely a shred of interpretation on the way. The music is this particular way because it was born this way, not because he is trying to make it this way.

Shorn of the horns and the banjo and the electric guitar of the album the songs are all performed in a largely acoustic fashion, but not for a second do these versions want for the energy of their recorded counterparts. The high tempo ones are as captivating as the sad ones are affecting, and it doesn’t take much for the underlying pathos of even the more upbeat numbers to suddenly be pushed to fore. With little more than a line about heartbreak and subtle shift in the rhythm a song which was charging forwards stops dead, disconcertingly pausing for reflection and making you feel slightly ashamed of bouncing back and forth to a song which it turns out is essentially about abandonment and loss.

In the long run though, you find yourself as swept up by the whirlwind of the performance as the band themselves seem to be, and despite the occasional excursions into sadness, this is at its heart an uplifting, enthralling performance that left both myself and my Midget Companion buzzing with excitment for the rest of the day. Brilliant. And such a nice fellow too. If ever anyone deserved to be this talented it is this man.

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Langhorne Slim – Worries
Langhorne Slim – Sweet Olive Trees

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It took DC to introduce me to Langhorne Slim, when I first played Celebrity Chimp on these pages.  I don’t think I’d ever have explored him without some prompting because the name conjures up redneck cowboy country to me, and I avoid that music like the plague.  Thank fuck some people have more sense than I do.

It’s not redneck cowboy music by any means, but it’s got a touch of honky-tonk, a little country, some American folk and god knows what else.  It’s very traditional in that sense, but such a mish-mashed reinterpretation of those traditional things that the blanket term ‘Americana’ is about the best I think I can come up with.

This self-titled release is a truly great album.  The pace is so varied, you are taken from ragamuffin barroom clatter to wistful country-flecked balladry in moments – all engaging, spirited and powerful.  He’s a New Yorker, a couple of years younger than my little brother, but he gives the impression of a veteran with a significant back catalogue.  I was so fooled I went looking for one, and bar a few bits and pieces it just isn’t there.

His voice is forceful, but scratchy and vulnerable enough to make his sadder songs really touching.  For the most part however, the pace of this music is more driving than that, even the unhappier songs full of sound and pushing forwards with purpose, making it a real toe-tapping, swirling, joy of a record.  Huzzah for the Americana, this week.  I was sure I used to be an indie-kid.

Langhorne Slim – Rebel Side of Heaven
Langhorne Slim – Hummingbird

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