There’s a buzz among those queuing as they wait for the doors to open. ‘I should have perhaps dressed a bit more goth’, one girl says to her friend as she looks around. Nah: truth is, it’s rare to see quite such a diverse array of punters. While predominantly under thirty, while there are some gothy types, there are plenty of straights, students, and even some steam punks, and some cosplaying as animé characters, and they all seem pretty hyped. ‘I never thought I’d actually get to see him,’ I hear someone say.
Jariah has been being creative for some years and may be something of a Spotify sensation, but this is his first visit to the UK, and he’s brought along not only a five-piece backing band, with sax and trumpet and five-string bass, but touring buddied Pollyanna and a lot of energy.
Local openers Daisy Graves and Pollyanna are both warmly received, but it’s clear everyone is on tenterhooks for the main act, and the place erupts the moment Jhariah leads his crew onto the small stage of this 300-capacity basement venue.
Combining elements of ska and pop and jazz and show tunes, it’s all delivered with heart and a lot of soul – and I mean a lot of soul. Jhariah’s charisma is matched only by his vocal range, but he’s humble too, and appears genuinely touched by the hugely enthusiastic response. It says something for both the performance and the fans’ dedication that they keep them jumping, clapping and waving their hands for a full hour and a half.
|
Towards the end of the set, we get a rousing rendition of ‘My Way’, and half the room sings along, as they do to many of the originals, too: there’s very much a feelgood, party vibe. And the musicianship is simply faultless: they need to be tight, mind, with so many abrupt halts, quickfire tempo changes, and false endings.
(Older) people moan endlessly about the endless proliferation of soulless, empty, dead-eyed manufactured pop and how everything is artificial and vapid and generally crap, but here we have an artist who delivers ‘real’ music, with real musicians, real passion, and a positive message. Everyone in the room responds to this, and feels included, and it’s irrefutably uplifting to witness.
Calls for ‘one more song’ (and the occasional cry of ‘Yorkshire!’ as is customary round these parts) are met with an encore of ‘Pin-Eye’. The crowd goes nuts, and the night ends on an obvious high.
|
