Tomlinson, Turner and Beresford

For those of you have never been to Charlie Wright’s it is a pub run by an ex-boxer, the kind of guy you don’t argue with when he charges you so much for a pint (£4.50!) that it causes you to spill some on the bar. In fact, you mop it up for him, apologising profusely as you do so. If I’m in the area, I do occasionally pop in for some Thai food though. That was exactly what happened the other night, and it was only upon entering that I noticed various familiar-looking musicians loitering around the bar, and realised that there was due to be a gig. And that I didn’t have my notebook to hand (he says, apologising profusely for the perfunctory nature of the review).

John Butcher

Thankfully Mandrew had his camera. I had plenty time to polish off my massaman before The Wire’s cover star from a few months ago, John Butcher, took to the stage for a solo performance that pushed his instrument to the limits of its capabilities. On tenor, he produced some guttural growls that had the bar’s owner shaking his head in angry confusion. We (that is me and Mandrew, not me and the owner) had only just finished a discussion about how rarely we ever saw anyone playing the soprano – and how Coltrane’s “Ole” was still our favourite soprano piece – when Butcher switched to the straight horn. After some spitting and whistling, he began to produce some strange wheeps and whurtles that sounded almost electronic in genesis. Quite compelling.

Tomlinson, Turner and Beresford

The trio that followed featured Alan Tomlinson on trombone, Roger Turner on drums, and Steve Beresford on electronics. Turner played his usual muscular, bullet-headed intensity, rapping away inventively on blocks of wood and metal, but it was difficult to take your eyes off Tomlinson – swooping and spinning, strafing the audience with brassy blasts, and comically balancing his mute on his head. The band really raised the heat at the end, with Beresford frantically shuffling tapes, and Turner rummaging around for some chains and bits of metal. Not that I needed any more warming – like I said, I’d only come in for a curry.