Jo Caulfield Won't Shut Up! - LBT, April 2010

Where Were You Hiding When the Storm Broke?

One of those things in life which I’m resentful about for no good reason is the “where were you ...?” phenomenon.

You know what I mean – “where were you when Kennedy was shot?”, “where were you when man walked on the moon?” that kinda thing.

Part of the resentment comes from the former being before I was born and the latter being not long after I took my own first steps I suppose, but I think most of it comes from the rubbish events we’ve had since then and my rubbish responses to what little I’ve got to work with.

Where were you when Lennon was shot? In bed listening to Tiger Tim on Radio Clyde.

Where were you when Thatcher resigned? On the bus outside Huddersfield Job Centre (OK, that’s quite apt) listening to the story break on Radio 4.

Where were you when Diana died? Watching QVC.

Where were you on 9/11? Sitting in the car park of the sandwich shop near work as it unfolded over every radio station.

Where were you when the tsunami killed a quarter of a million? Tidying up after Christmas day and listening to 5Live.

You see a theme here? With occasional breaks for comic memorabilia sales on unfashionable TV channels, I’ve spent most of my life within earshot of a radio. Most of the big news stories have reached me that way; about the only exceptions I can think of being 7/7 (satellite telly in a hotel bar in Portugal) and Hillsborough (on multiple TV screens in the window of an electrical shop on Poole high street).

Our Jessica’s a different kettle of fish. She loathes the way radio insists on trying to sell her car insurance between bangin’ tunes; if anything separates her generation from mine, it’s patience.

So it came to pass that, on the day Europe’s airspace was closed for a week, Jessica’s first knowledge of the eruption of Iceland’s Eyjafjallajokull volcano came from a Jo Caulfield joke.

That, dear reader, is cool.

A good four or five years ago, BBC7 was broadcasting loads of stand-up routines in their comedy slot which I ripped from the web stream and loaded onto both my and Linda’s mp3 players for holiday listening. Beneath the Canary Island sun, we agreed that, by far the best (and the competition was pretty fierce; Nick Revell, Rhod Gilbert, Ardal O’Hanlon and the like), was a show from the Edinburgh fringe by a young lady named Jo Caulfield who immediately took a prominent spot on our “to see” list.

Events conspired to thwart us on our first attempts; Jo still hasn’t been forgiven for canceling her 2007 date in Huddersfield (which I whined about at the time if you want to go digging in the archives) then her Halifax show last year (which sounded great – nice and intimate) landed bang in the middle of my post-op recuperation when it hurt enough to breathe, let alone laugh.

So, you see, when our paths finally cross, Jo’s carrying a lot of our baggage. Will she disappoint?

Not for a moment.

Even allowing for the three comedians appearing on telly tonight (it’s the first ever British Prime Ministerial Debate) I’d’ve hoped for – make that expected - a few more locals to make the effort to see real talent. Jo’s a slick performer who clearly loves a live audience and deserves more than tonight’s 75% capacity.

Following, as it does, the standard agenda of introduction/tease the audience for a bit/deliver script, Jo’s show is never going to win any awards for revolutionary formatting, but the material is what matters and it’s top notch. From her wry observation of local mannerisms, through the well rehearsed meat of the performance proper, to milking the most she can out of some rather third rate heckling, she never misses a beat.

The feeling that she’s talking straight to you is hard to explain without sounding like a self-harming, virgin Smiths fan, but you probably get the idea; A Jo Caulfield show is like going to the pub for a blether with an old mate, drinking too much then spending the whole night inventing back-stories for everyone in the place.

Great stuff, and there always seems to be a little twist, doesn’t there? Plugging her new CD, Jo apologised for wearing the same blouse on the sleeve as she wore tonight. When we got home, Dave was (as usual) showing an old episode of Mock The Week. Guess who was on it? And guess what she was wearing?

Regeneration or evolution? Jagged Edge, Barnsley Trades, April 2010

"I don't want to go."

David Tennant's incarnation of Dr Who signed off with those words a few months ago. Tonight, his successor, Matt Smith, assumed the mantle and made a decent fist of a thankless task. Tennant was a hard act to follow and only time will tell if Matt has the talent, the style and the je ne sais quoi to carry it off.

Closer to home, another well loved, well established act may be even harder to follow. Dave Bamforth has, under doctor's (no, not Matt Smith's) orders, relinquished the spotlight and Jagged Edge have a new frontman. As a fellow member of the zipper club I have to say GET WELL SOON, DB!

Bob Wider has previously worked with Bradford's Street Sleeper, a heavier band than the Jaggies who feature Metallica and Iron Maiden tracks in their repetoire, so he's not an obvious choice, but let's see...

We speak to the diminutive singer before the show. He's a quiet, unassuming wee soul but he's excited about the gig having thoroughly enjoyed his first "official" booking the night before; when he excuses himself to "go and put on my dancing pants", Dann's unusually reluctant to give us any clues about what to expect.

Whatever we get, there's standing room only at the Trades.

"Here's a song for ya..."

Bob borrows David Coverdale's traditional introduction as the band launch into Fool For Your Loving; interesting opener, definitely a heavier sound than when they've jammed it in the past and, yes, Bob can sing.

Foreigner's Feels Like The First Time is debuted and is all kinds of great then She Don't Know Me, Home Sweet Home and Love Walked In all showcase different aspects of Bob's vocal abilities.

Blue Collar Man sounds as good as ever and, where Wayward Son has been subtly modified so that it's more faithful to the original, Comfortably Numb has been completely rearranged to let Bob deliver a Roger Waters-style solo vocal rather than the harmonised version we've become accustomed to.

Actually, Wayward Son highlights my only complaint about Bob's vocals; he needs to learn to drop into harmony lines rather than maintaining his lead volume over the top of them.

Dann, as always, owns the place as he solos the first half to a close.

The second half opens with a new Bon Jovi number - Lay Your Hands On Me will be a crowd pleaser, but I don't rate it; personally, I'd rather have In and Out of Love or old favourite Runaway.

Among trusty stalwarts like Sweet Child O'Mine and (dragged into mid-set) Rock'n'Roll, we get a few Journey numbers; Big Dave retains vocal duties for Separate Ways, but Bob has relieved Dann of both Be Good To Yourself and Don't Stop Believing; watching Dann remembering not to sing was one of the more amusing sights of the night.

Whitesnake's Don't Break My Heart Again is the final new song of the night; I've never been a big 'Snake fan - a bit too blues-y for my taste - but it's an inoffensive choice and, obviously, it's bloody well played.

Don't Stop Believing actually finds itself stuck in the nominal "last number of the night" slot where, in light of its recent over-exposure, it doesn't really have the impact it once would.

Dann's solo doesn't need reviewing, but I miss the segue into Rock'n'Roll.

Bob (I originally mistyped that as "Bon", hmmm...) replaces Big Dave on ...Rosie and, for the first time, something jars.

Living On A Prayer opens the way Desmond Child originally intended - as a tender, acoustic number - before bringing the night to a rocking climax.

No ...Bad Name? Really? Didn't see that coming...

A difficult show for the guys to play, a difficult show for me to review, but in the cold light of day, how was it?

WHAT I LIKED: Feels Like The First Time (a lot); the re-works of Wayward Son, Comfortably Numb and Living on a Prayer were great; the absence of Wanted was welcome (my heart sank when the hat appeared at the end); Bob has terrific stage presence.

WHAT I WAS INDIFFERENT TO: both Lay Your Hands On Me and Don't Break My Heart Again. I can see both songs catching on, though.

WHAT I'D CHANGE: Ooooh - sorry, even ignoring my prejudice, I don't think Whitesnake's a good opener - give us something bouncy with harmonies. And Rosie... Bob's vocal may be more authentic, but Big Dave's is just better; give the big man his song back!