Pete Gavin / Kayulta | The Market Bar | 01/05/2018

Reading Time: 6 minutes

It’s Tuesday, fill your boots!

As has been mentioned before Tuesday night is often ‘Interesting market bar day’. By interesting that doesn’t mean the other days are not, however it’s usually acts that aren’t necessarily on the radar locally; a fun lottery.

I’m well fed, well; fed.  There was a lot of food and I’m not about to dissect the quality of someone else’s cooking, so, I’ll just stop there. Tomorrow I’ll do something with some sexy vegetables and whatever is in the yellow sticker zone of whatever supermarket I’m near.

Sexy veg-like carrots that have interesting appendages, and the like. I mean I’ll cook with them, I realise saying I’ll do something with sexy vegetables with appendages tomorrow could come across wrong. Or maybe I’m overthinking it. There was context to the vegetable statement, though I could see how things taken out of context could look bad.

So off I toddled.

I didn’t bother checking  the billing before arriving, but I got in early enough to prepare for whatever was on from 10:30 pm. Tonight’s performer on the chalkboard showed Pete Gavin. Beautifully written too I might add.

Pete Gavin. Was that two different people, Pete and Gavin, like the next day’s billing of Fergus and Greg? I did a bit of ‘research’ and found this guy.

Is this the Pete Gavin you are looking for?

 

Then I looked at him on YouTube.
Then I felt a bit let down.
A 71-year-old Blues player from London. Laandaon.

Blues can be good, but you tend to get a fair whack of it from a couple of the session musicians that come into the bar, and do it well, but there’s an added feel of soul from them.

We will review them properly at some point. It’s difficult to objectively review something you see often though, although subjective objectivity is what we’re all about at bastardwordiness.thenettle.scot, so we’ll figure something out.

So back to Pete Gavin. There was a temptation to not bother reviewing, the videos were not inspiring, but we’d been in a bit of a hiatus for various reasons, so I decided I’d grind it out.

Pete appears.

Either he’s got hold of the time stone from Dr. Strange. (pop culture reference but it should be fairly obvious), he’s had a face transplant, or he’s a different Pete Gavin. I was slightly less scunnered. Then a microphone appeared. It was gold.  Was this about to be some sort of Beyonce tribute act? Probably not.

Pete sits down with his guitar and opens with a joke at the expense of the very recently ex-Home Secretary, Amber Rudd. We like this, and it immediately begins the building of a good repertoire with my fellow barflies.

He starts off the first song, a softly spoken number, with the pace of Belle and Sebastian’s Sleep the Clock Around (the verses for those that know it) but the melody was definitively different. Unlike that song, the vocals amplified and the song evolved. Pete at this point seems well enunciated, with a nice voice to listen to. This was definitely not the namesake on the Tube of You’s that I’d searched for earlier – note to self, be careful with Facebook tagging.

Pete also goes by the name of Kayulta, which explains the false positives when looking for performing artist Pete Gavin earlier.

The next song, I’ve noted, was a song either called “Sometimes” or containing a hook that involves the word ‘Sometimes’. It doesn’t mention how frequently sometimes is, but I’m assuming it’s more than never and less than always. It was a very likable upbeat song.

Pete on the accoustic

Disappointingly, he introduced his loop pedal. Let me try that again. I was disappointed with the introduction of the loop pedal. Not because it was a loop pedal, or because I’m some sort of cantankerous old traditionalist. I love the use of loop pedals, as referenced in previous reviews, which you can see elsewhere on the site, and that I’m too lazy to link to, but you can click on Wooley Dermal on the page and see all my other mumblings. Or just explore, there’s a range of writing styles on here.

No, I was disappointed because he introduced it with the name Red Sheeran. If you read my review of Newton Faulkner, I ripped into Ed a bit from memory. But I’ll let him off, the music tonight was good.

The craic with the growing audience was good, one of which noticed the unusual electric guitar that was being played, a Telecaster with three pickups and a kill switch. It transpired that our man makes guitars too, and the short insight was interesting for the geek in me.

There’s not literally a geek in me, it’s not that kind of bar, and the kill switch was to mute the pickups, rather than for dealing with an unappreciative crowd.

We were given a cover of Black Magic Woman which also showed off the fantastic guitar sound. These sort of smooth tunes are exactly what is needed on a Tuesday evening.

This was followed by an ‘off the cuff’ example of the loop pedal in action, which you can see below.

 

The bobbily head man, David Gray, was covered next. The cover was sans bobbing throughout the Babylon rendition though, which proves there is no value-add with the bobbles. I had likened the song and singer of the original to that of a chicken walking. Was playing the song forcing head movements, like a chicken’s tendons force the head to surge forward. Apparently not.

The myth-busting bobble song was followed up by one which would be presumed to be called “ Soulless Jack why you coming back”. (We’re not ‘press release’ folk, so we don’t get a setlist, and this site has the potential to be a highland collection of misheard lyrics.)  It had an upbeat feel of David Gray.

Phone crisis

The notes become messy at this point, the crappy phone being used to record them had a freak out and updated itself.
My handwriting in the dark is roughly about as coherent as someone who’s been shut in a box for six months then being shouted at to explain what’s happened whilst they were gone, in six words or less.

The notes were as follows:

Sounded like Gray, so there that.
perhaps because he was playing one.
No, it’s not. He mention’s it’s Gray-like, but that’s fine, David Gray is like a taxi driver now. Actually, maybe this was a David Gray song.

I think I was attempting to establish the author of the song, and noting comments from tonight’s performer. That’s the best guess. There was also some unique shimmy dancing from one of the patrons, which distracted and confused the situation.

Phone crisis over & normal service resumed.

The crowd was involved, enjoying the experience and chilled out. Cover songs always provide a nice ambiance to the bar but the interesting comes out of the self-produced work.

It’s a good sign for a set when the audience is keen to hear the artist’s original compositions. Which they vocalised. The shouts were obliged with another of Pete’s own with a folky feel.

Billowingly, clear vocals featured with that one, a good show off of his range.

Throughout the night there was a peppering of covers, such as REM, the aforementioned Fleetwood Mac cover and U2’s Stay, which is from the era when U2 weren’t shite. Coincidentally perhaps, the year after the album ‘Stay’ features on is the year that Bono started wearing sunglasses all the time. Did glaucoma make Bono a twat? Maybe.

All round top night, custom guitar to the left.

More original work was requested. This was consensus too, not just one drunken fella in the corner shouting out, as can often happen. Two more were given, followed by a bit of background about of himself. He gave an account of living in Belfast and the ability to utilise accents to get through some situations. I won’t recount the story here, go see him and you might hear about it. The point is that there are some really nice stories peppered throughout Pete’s show, which goes a long way to making a good night. That doesn’t mean it works for every artist, and in some artists cases, a long tale can be tantamount to self-harm inducing, but Pete was charismatic, his anecdotes were good, and it worked.

The last pre-encore song was ‘Perfect Day’, followed by the final tune.

Again one of his own, which featured a two-second rest within the track. At the point of the rest, the pub’s phone rang. Perfectly in time with the rhythm of the song, amazing timing and almost mystical.

Pete’s a good spirit, and this is what bar music should be. If you see his name on a billing, or Kayulta’s, indulge your senses with a fine experience.

We went to Johnny Foxes after that. It was shit. The end.

Pete was actually a replacement for the original billing; Mahadev. He’s a French spiritual pop singer, and yoga fan. I’m sure we’ll get the chance to catch in the future. It sounds review worthy anyway.

 

 

 

MFR Cash for kids at bogbain farm.

Reading Time: 8 minutes

Mario Royeca, high tea and the surreal delights of being ‘one of the girls’: Charity, music, fashion and hand cream at Bogbain Farm, Sunday 19th April,
By Cornwallace –

Looking back on Bogbairn farm, scene of eclectic, out of left-field good times at the Vintage Fair.

So, there is a reason for the long convoluted title above. Well, a few reasons really.
One of them is that the entire crowded and exquisitely decked out room was continually referred to in the collective noun “ladies,” so … well, after a while you just roll with it.
And to be fair there was only about 3 guys in the room, itself making the anonymity of this post a little harder. Although I can’t imagine that there’s many in the crowd trying to crack this anonymity code at the best of times – let alone at this event, where I’m betting there wasn’t a lot of upset murmurs of ‘I’m having a wonderful high tea, but I’m missing that metal/ punk/ hippie/ whatever band at the Market for it.’

How to begin to tie this eclectic day together…
Okay.
There are times when one is given the opportunity to step out of their ordinary patterns of behaviour, the run of the mill of the tried and tested, true loves of events, bands and locations. Then there are times like this when you’re pulled out of the comfort zone so much that your standard compass reference points have no bearings at all.
Add a little chaos, Pimms, glamour and hand crème, and you’re well on the way to surreal, happy moment. I don’t quite know how to give the event justice, but I shall try.

High tea just isn’t high tea without complimentary rose scented organic hand crème. Don’t be fooled by pretenders! Demand the complimentary organic hand crème!
Chill out tent and Pimms just waiting for mixer. The sun was out, and by Bogbain Farm standards it was a warm day

Let’s start with the premise of the event, and the location.
The event was at Bogbain Farm. I hadn’t been there since Brew at the Bog fell flat. It is still a stunning place, and still manages to be stupidly cold even on a warm sunshiny day, but much else has changed.
To be honest, I don’t know which idea came first, but it seems that now the family has established MacGregors, they see the benefit of regular events to have the crowds hand over cash at the Farm, too. The toilets with fittings laying above the cistern awaiting final install, the staff working out where things live behind the bar and the last minute shuffling of furniture gave the impression that this sort of thing was reasonably new to the Farm.
Saying that, they did it well. The room high tea in was decked out beautifully for weddings – I missed the ‘we’ve just cleaned out the stables for this event’ feel of this space, but you can see every man and his dog getting married there with how they set it up. Probably some women would like to get married there as well, judging from the comments flowing fast like the tea and scones.
The purpose of the day seemed to be two-fold. I must admit that I was lucky enough to score a free ticket, and therefore free Pimms, tea, coffee, scones, biscuits, and – naturally – complimentary hand crème. Right now I feel simply divine, even as my hands slip all over the keyboard.
I mention the free ticket as everyone else there had so much more of a clue as to what was going on. I think part of it was reading the information beforehand, and part of it was this being their scene, and them not being the fish out of water I was.
So – the premise:
A charity called ‘Cash for Kids’ was having a fundraiser. A vintage fashion boutique in town – The Nettle is not the BBC so I can name company names; they are ‘Maggie & Suzi’ – were promoting their shop. Radio station MFR brought out guest host for the occasion also – his ‘Bling Bingo’ got the punters engaged. The amount of half-pissed focus going on with circling those numbers and the pent up energy of waiting punters getting close to sweet victory and waiting for that final number for the full row was one of the myriad lovely surreal moments this afternoon had to offer.
So the charity got a lot of money and promotion, the vintage fair was via the vintage clothes shop, who also put on a fashion show. I want to take the piss somehow, but seriously think that the radio station was there just out of the goodness of their corporate heart (I wanted to write that as I don’t know when I’ll next get the chance to put those words together to convey that sentiment).
There was a chill out marquee outside with Pimms, vintage clothes off the rack in the foyer with the bar, the raffle tickets and the dress-up photo booth mirror.

Later on there was a band who was meant to be the best weddings/ party band in Inverness – I didn’t stay to prove this either way, but it said so on their business card on the table, and they sounded fun in the sound-check, so hey – they also had the best weddings and party band in Inverness!!
To add an obvious gap in this eclectic line-up they had a bagpipe player to see people into the event.
As I say, it takes a moment to unpick all the elements going on at this event, but after a while the overall effect was submission into the surreal, a good decision that led us from bewilderment to belly-laughs. Again, it pays to roll with it sometimes.

This photo represents this gig for me. Music best appreciated when listened to, as background music. Apologies for those in the photo, but they are doing what I wanted to highlight

Now that I have set the scene, I shall add in the one ingredient that I haven’t mentioned yet – Mario Royeca. The bit I actually was there to see and the bit that I wanted to review.
In between the fashion show, the bingo, the charity talking about its good works and us all being collectively called ‘ladies’ an inordinate amount of times, Mario had a number of small solo sets to bind the whole mosaic of component pieces to the day together into some sort of cohesion.
One of the things that I enjoy about writing these reviews is that it is about the day/ night and the event/ performance as much as the artist/ performer/ etc. being seen.
I’ve been lucky enough to see Mario in and around a few times, and I say lucky without any misgivings about the use of the word. To set the scene on my thoughts on the matter, one time after hearing a song for the first time, I was moved enough to ask him to play it at my wedding.
To put that in perspective, I don’t actually much believe in marriage at all beyond a declaration of intent and a good party, but if in the unlikely event it was to ever happen, I knew I’d want that song to be somewhere in the mix, being played when people are settled and listening and want to reflect on what true love is all about.
I mentioned a little while back in the SoFar review about Nicky and Chloe and how lucky we are to fight above our weight in Inverness in terms of quality entertainment. This statement at the time was qualified with pre-existing knowledge of not just Nicky and Chloe, but also the likes of Mario. His voice resonates the connectedness of his lyrics – how much they mean to him, and what emotions were spent in the experiences sung about and now shared through the music.
The serious mixes with the reflective, the observant and, to shake it up, the bouncy rolling, danceable funny when required. As with Nicky and Chloe, StetsonHead, Spring Break and a rake of other local acts, I love that a night out in Inverness may include hearing Mario do his thing.
And in saying that, I reflect back to the surreal nature of the event at hand. I do try as far as possible to keep the punters blurry in photos for the sake of anonymity, so apologise to those in this photo below. However, it captures a significant, major point I want to say about this gig. Essentially, what it was, was a soloist whose music is best appreciated when genuinely listened to at an event where his role was as background music.

I have to admit, that in presenting him in a particular light, he did actually do a good job in terms of the job required of him on the day. One aspect I managed to see early on in the first set perhaps set the tone for this ‘taking care of business’ mind-set he seemed to employ.
He started playing on time, but the bagpipes were still going, and my fellow ladies were still milling about, and so the organiser kept shutting the door on him and the room, including him, me and about 5-6 others, with more slowly eking in despite the closed door.
When the crowd finally came in it was with the presence of a rugby front-row collectively gaining territory on the field. One had to select their table to maximum effect and to ensure staying with one’s friends.
No harm there, I wasn’t a fish out of water seeing this mentality hold sway. However, this also meant getting to the seats near the wall near the ‘stage.’ A number of people gently knocked the mic stand on their way to grabbing these seats, but in among this there was one of those little magic moments that life offers. Three ladies aiming for 2 seats and then standing and working out how to diplomatically wedge a 3rd seat in the space. That they were standing right in front of Mario obscuring sight of him for literally everyone was not within sniffing distance of the thoughts on their minds.
Whether I projected this attitude on him or not – no, fuck it, I read his mind, I swear! It wasn’t hard just then. It went from ‘what the actual fuck,’ to ‘this is hilarious’ at a pace of 0-60 in under a second.
And it was hilarious. It was for me I think the moment that the whole day went from a safe and gentile but slightly uncomfortable ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’ to surreal, gentile, high tea with alcohol hilarity.
They say that you benefit from putting yourself out there and trying new things. I got to experience so many new things on this high tea, charity event day that it was hard to know both where to start and how to try to thread all the pieces together.
However, the end of this review is easy enough. I found that it does pay to try new things. It was, after embracing the surreal unknown, a day full of good food, good drink, and good music. I met some funny, sassy, lovely people on my table and had more laughs than I care to count. In among this, there is an image that comes to mind of Mario singing in the background, gently tying all the fragment pieces together. Who needs a comfort zone when you’ve got all that.

The shirt randomly worked with the vintage fashion theme