Vic Lambrusco (Santa's evil nephew) was hosting with his usual cross humour- he always reminds me of a man with an annoying fly buzzing around his head.
He was mirror-mirrored by Joe Cairo (top), who outMitchelled Phil and Grant and who was even angrier and more aggressive than Vic, but just as funny. I liked his 'poem' (more of a Cavalry charge) about the dream in which he was discussing all sorts of flowers with Alan Titchmarsh in his garden shed, before dispatching him with a spade.
There was quite a lot of testosterone-fuelled poetry last night, and poor Oscar Wilde must be turning in his violet-strewn grave. I can foresee a time when wars will be won and lost through aggro-poetry, with each country pitting their most Alpha poet against each other to see who cries first and loses. The baying crowd won't be able to resist throwing in rhyming couplets to encourage their champion. Ha ha!
I was really pleased to be able to see most of Salt and Blue's set before rushing for the last tube. They are a woman hurdy-gurdy player and a male cellist, whose material is traditional French, English and American folk, both instrumentals and songs.
The hurdy-gurdy is a fascinating instrument to listen to- I first heard one played by the seven-piece man-band Admiral's Hard a couple of years ago. The singer of Salt and Blue has a real folksinger's voice, pure, but it's not grating and it blends in beautifully with the sound of the hurdy-gurdy and the cello, which is played in amore experimental than traditional way.
I thought it was lovely and the whole evening was well worth the long trip down from the far north, the editor's nights are always good- he cares so much about the different acts he puts on and you can go along by yourself and feel entirely at home, which I like.
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