James Yorkston live review
James Yorkston’s annual Christmas show might be in cosier surroundings this year (“my dressing room was bigger that this place,” remarks Yorkston to a sweltering Shacklewell Arms, reminiscing about last year's Union Chapel gig), but it doesn’t deter. Indeed, resilience in the face of changing circumstances is a theme for Yorkston tonight, with two songs and several inter-song monologues mourning the recent death of his bass player Dougie Paul from cancer, and he wears it with a stoicism and gallows humour that suits him beautifully.
Indeed, it’s testament to Yorkston’s quiet showmanship that a solo acoustic guitarist playing sad-drunk songs about bereavement and heartbreak manages to sustain itself for so long without ever turning uncomfortable. Before a handful of musicians join him for an encore of covers and more light-hearted japes, he performs alone for an hour, during which his ad libs towards a talkative couple (“sorry, the only bit of that I caught was they didn’t have it in Morrison’s!”) keep the mood from becoming maudlin. His self-admonishment for forgotten lyrics, too – and subsequent prompts from the crowd – add levity to what could, in less self-aware hands, have become a distinctly un-Christmassy performance. As it is, Yorkston brings poignancy and warmth, leaving a Christmas spirit that’s humbly charming.
