The Seven Year Itch: NG Magazine review Tom McRae

2007-06-15 21:33:41

After having endured the rain, an extremely hostile crowd and a random heckling by the support act (Yes! NG Magazine were heckled! Click here to read more about it. Fame beckons…), a dull Canadian who took his lacklustre abilities way too seriously, I was starting to worry that people in Nottingham were slowly losing their grip on reality. This was after all a gig and people are still allowed to talk, especially during a pretty average support act. Our honour was deftly defended by the Rescue Rooms bouncer though, what an ace guy!
    
I was also worried that Tom McRae, a man that I’d wanted to see live for an incredible seven years, was going to be a turdy, stick in the mud too. Maybe acoustic sets are destined to be for the angry, bitter and hostile forty-plus age group. Perhaps it was our youth and good looks that had provoked their wrath. I shrunk shamefully into the collars of my Diesel jacket.
    
Thankfully, Tom McRae isn’t at all like the crowd he attracts. Equipped with the kind of playful dry wit that would make Paul Merton envious, he joked with and teased the crowd throughout his 90 minute set. The rapport he established with them was just incredible. Yes, his lyrics may be miserable, but don’t let that fool you because he’s a damn funny guy. Apparently The Sun accused him of ‘dumbing down’ with his new album, bitterly labelling it a ‘pop’ record. I can just see him as a future guest host on Have I Got News For You. And he is the hottest eye candy I’ve seen on stage for a fair while. Without a doubt.
    
The highlight of tonight’s set was a standout rendition of Dose Me Up, McRae’s first ‘hit’ single seven years ago, and it was during his performance of this song on Later with Jools Holland in 2000 that I first became transfixed by him. McRae has awesome gravitas; his voice is utterly flawless and compositions are impressive, alternating between moments of serene beauty and majestic grandeur.
    
The two Ollys (on keyboards and cello) provide a well orchestrated accompaniment to his acoustic guitars, adding depth and harmony. Continuing to tease the crowd, he managed to make them all sing three rounds of the chorus while he stood back and dosed himself up with copious quantities of Lemsip. He had apologised for having ‘man flu’ earlier in the set, but this must have been a poor attempt at disguising a fetish for paracetamol-laced lemon drinks as there was nothing flawed about the set at all.
    
The numbers that he showcased from his new album were definitely few and far-between, but not because they were rubbish. In fact, Deliver Me should definitely be released as a single, if McRae even indulges in those types of overtly commercial ventures nowadays. It’s a serious crime that this man is not better known, although he has a devoted cult following that obviously idolise him. Whilst I am not one of those people, I’m bloody glad that I finally got to scratch my seven year itch.
    
Review: Michelle Dhillon
    
Images: Lisa Mayfield
    

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