John Martyn, The Spirit Store, Dundalk, Co. Louth, 27 July 2005
By Conor Duffy

"Hi, I'm going to the John Martyn gig tonight and I was just wondering what time the doors open?"
"Nine o'clock."
"Nine o'clock? Great, thanks."

I do have a niggling worry. After all, midweek gigs at the Spirit Store are usually in full swing by 9pm. But hey, it is John Martyn, pretty big deal, I'm sure that time is right.

Unfortunately it's very very wrong, so I miss the support act. This is a shame, not because the support was all that great (he was all right, it seems, and he certainly sounded OK from downstairs) but because, for me, that time before the headliner is important for getting into the right frame of mind. Even if that headliner is John Martyn, a man who has been performing since the Sixties and who managed to sell out this venue a good month in advance. Though I know of him, I'm really not familiar with his work at all (not that this matters - Martyn rarely plays a song the same way twice), but I am looking forward to getting better acquainted with it.

He appears almost exactly at 9pm and sits at the front of the stage. He's immediately likeable, cracking jokes about his amputated foot before he and his band begin. For the next two hours he keeps the audience gripped, combining elements of jazz, blues, funk and folk. Martyn's voice could be described as silky, but with a rough edge that only age and experience can provide. His hands move across his guitar with ease, only stopping at one point to take care of a broken nail, then carrying on like a true pro. The crowd meanwhile are so entranced that he even manages to get away with retuning his guitar halfway through a song. Around him are three musicians equally as skilled, keeping up with John every step of the way as the songs twist and turn.

But despite the great skill and sounds on display, I found it hard to really get into the gig. I wasn't bored or disappointed with what I saw, but my mind kept drifting off, and it was hard to keep my full attention on the show.

At eleven John is helped off the stage and walks away. Considering he's just played for two hours and is somewhat lacking in the foot department, it would be wrong of us to demand an encore. But he can be happy with his performance tonight. I might not have been blown away, but it was still a good evening. I'll make sure to educate myself better before he's round these parts again.