The Borderline, London
15/04/09
It was way back in 2003 that I first discovered William Elliot Whitmore.
He was playing a show at the LA2 supporting hardcore outfit Converge. A weird choice of support act at the time but after seeing him play, all the other bands that played that night paled in comparison to the one man and his banjo.
He had been back to British soil multiple times since ’03 but had always flown under my radar. Tonight I finally caught him at the Borderline and along with the capacity crowd, I couldn’t wait.
“Friendship and sharing” declares William as he throws away the cap on a bottle of Jack Daniels and passes it around the crowd encouraging them to drink after opening with ‘Mutiny‘ and an up-tempo ‘Lift My Jug‘.
The beautiful thing about William’s performance is his interaction with the crowd. There is no “I hope he plays this song”. If you want something played he’s more than willing to oblige and constantly takes requests. The only thing he refused to play was ‘Freebird’ as he understandably didn’t stray from his own material. The amazing ‘Take it On The Chin‘ and the clanging banjo of the haunting ‘One Man’s Shame‘ are all rounded by Whitmore’s voice. It sounds like the man has been breast fed on Marlboro’s and Moonshine.
Tonight we are treated to songs from Whitmore’s new album ‘Animals In The Dark‘. ‘Old Devils‘ is the man’s own brand of morbid folk where Whitmore’s story telling builds and builds in pace to the point of boiling. A song about “the filth” followed with Whitmore’s ode the police, ‘Johnny Law‘, goes down a storm with the Borderline as a second bottle of sour mash is passed around.
It’s amazing that one man can hold the audience by the scruff of their necks and spit his songs at you and then a song later, transfix a crowd with a heartfelt tale of loss. Whitmore’s intensity and passion for his music and what it represents is something to be admired. The songs Whitmore plays are so engrossing and so powerful you tend to forget that it’s just one man and his guitars.
It’s the classic formula of a working man’s grief, sorrow and hope all blended together and washed down with plenty of whiskey that makes Whitmore’s songs and live show so compelling. Tonight, as he did in 2003, William Elliot Whitmore did not disappoint.
Tom Lindsey
Photo from Myspace