Music / Reviews
Review: Sam Carter, St George’s – ‘A masterclass in songwriting’
One of the many things that makes live folk music such a delight is its variation. From the big bands, with loads of instruments, to solo glitch-folkers; from trad fiddle-led trios to stomping party-starters, it is a thrilling, dizzying place to be.
There is, however, almost nothing better than when things are kept simple. An acoustic guitar, an incredible voice, a clutch of great songs. Sometimes that’s all you need. Both Sam Carter and Lou Shepherd have all three and they are wonderful.
Shepherd is a Bristol-based singer-songwriter whose debut EP isn’t out until next spring. She has just a handful of gigs under her belt but is clearly going to be great. From the first moments of her first song, you can tell that she’s got it, whatever “it” is.
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That first song is sung unaccompanied, her glorious voice moss-soft and sun-tinged. The Quiet Joys of Brotherhood, written by Richard Fariña and most famously sung by Sandy Denny, is about our disconnect with nature and this is a theme that Shepherd returns to often tonight.
Four Seasons is as hazy as an early evening shadow, Mackerel Skies the sound of a hand trailing through silvery waters. Both make you yearn to be outside on a summer’s day.
There are more Sandy Denny hints on Rise, her voice soaring with a Who-Knows-Where-the-Time-Goes poise, the quiet determination of a seedling seeking the light. Then Rambling ‘til Sunrise has slants of sunlight casting Laurel Canyon shadows, Shepherd’s guitar playing a coffee-shop simplicity.
She might only be a few gigs old but Shepherd is well worth watching.
Local musician Lou Shepherd is one to look out for – photo: Lou Shepherd
This year, Sam Carter released his sixth album, Silver Horizon. It is a multi-layered, shoegaze-flecked sliver of utter beauty.
While the heart of his set consists of much of the new album, the simplicity of tonight strips down these songs to their core. Accompanied by double bass genius Ben Nicholls, Carter allows his incredible guitar playing and expressive voice do all the work.
Before playing Simpler Days, he looks down at his electric guitar and just checks, “Is this going to be alright?”. Carter is no Judas though: in his hands that guitar glistens and shimmers. It moves a lovely piece of nostalgia into a proper pop song, gives it depth and resonance.
His voice is this gloriously expressive thing too – the longing, joy and heartbreak all laid bare.
If You Set Me Free is almost Goth in its spindly, spidery darkness – a Vaughan Oliver album cover brought to life, full of shadows and sepia. Silver Horizon, on the other hand, is a slick of mercury, the twist of a piece of celluloid. Nicholls’ bass is bowed while Carter glitters with dream-pop loveliness.
All of which would be great but Carter is a fantastic songwriter too.
Ben Nicholls’ masterful bass expertly backed up Carter’s exquisite melodies – photo: Gavin McNamara
He half jokes that Good Enough is a “driving song”, one for punching the air to as you speed along the highway. And it is, sort of. It’s an English car song, one where the road twists and bends and is overhung with the deepest green. There’s still a bit of exhilaration in there though, a bit of a head-nod.
The new songs are all about creating a feeling, allowing that electric guitar to flicker and twinkle. It is on the older ones that Carter reminds us how stunning his back catalogue is.
Surprise View, from 2020s Home Waters, is tender, revelling in the details of a life together, and impossibly lovely. From the South Bank to Soho is just fabulous, a masterclass in songwriting and a reminder of the power of an acoustic guitar and a great voice.
Dreams Are Made of Money still sounds like a stone-cold classic, the high water-mark ofRead contemporary folk songwriting, while Waves and Tremors is radiant. Slap-bass funkiness, a bit of rockabilly twang, some Blues urgency, it’s just brilliant.
Sam Carter and Lou Shepherd might be keeping things simple but they just prove that less is, most assuredly, more.
Main image: Gavin McNamara
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