The Stables is a very comfy, middle class type of place. As you drive in, people were available to direct you to a parking place. Everything is well organised, rural and well, rather a little too nice. As we entered the place I realised we were even allowed to take drinks and glass bottles into the auditorium. As I sat in a very comfy chair I was then treated to a full body massage (okay, this is a lie).
On the button of eight o'clock, the Krissie Matthews Band began to strut their stuff. Well, Krissie strutted his stuff. As a sixteen year old precocious talent, he was allowed to wiggle his plectrum as his dad, Keith, plonked his bass in the background, and a fella with a mullet and sunglasses offered us drums. With polished speed they whizzed through a couple of tunes, before a slow number allowed Krissie to show off his face pulling prowess to perfection. Their 'set' of about half an hour was just right, with a cover of Albert Collins 'Iceman', being my favourite. How can this kid be so adept?
It was then time for a break. This allowed the mainly older audience, time to empty their catheter bags and refill their snuffboxes. This venue is actually owned by Johnny Dankworth and Cleo Laine ( of silly bibbly, bobbly vocal schenanigans) and, (Oh my Lord) you could actually buy a 'Cleo' T-shirt up in the shop for £10, sizes S,M,L and XL available.
Following a fifeteen minutes break it was time for the main act. Buddy Whittington. He has in the past filled the slot of guitarist for the John Mayalls Bluesbreakers quite admirably. Following 'You Upset Me Baby' you could easily see why. With the calm of a polished performer he thanked the support act and remarked on Krissie's tender years. He then assured the audience, "Old age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill."
And, in a jiffy, he proved it. His playing, rather than being energetic (like the aforementioned Krissie) was truly effortless. Mr Buddy is truly a big, bear of a bloke. His fingers, which are the size of chipolata sausages, caressed the guitar rather than appearing to play the thing.
Also on stage was Mick Gage on drums, Dave Stroud on bass, and Roger Cotton on (who had the look of a physics teacher/mad professor) on keyboards. They whisked through a couple of numbers with oddles of musical ability. They switched from 'rocky blues' in the song 'I Love You More And More Everyday' to a 'reggae vibe' in a song about addiction - 'Too Much Of A Good Thing'. At this point Buddy offerred the crowd a guess to what his downfall is. With a look of Kris Kristofeson on steroids, I would suggest it may be the fact that he is perhaps no stranger to a fish supper.
Following a couple of straightforward edgy blues tracks, the band did a ten minute instrumental track that had every facet of styles, from honky-tonk to country. The song, 'Help Me Through The Day' was dedicated to anyone going through a divorce. It was now 10.15pm and Buddy managed his first face pull of the night. Whether this was because of a the memory of a former marriage split, or because of a particularly difficult chord pluck was unclear.
Following a couple of other well executed and solid songs the band went off stage and quickly returned for an encore. This allowed a good proportion of the the audience time to rise from their seats and fulfil the urges that their prostate had been nagging them to do. As the crowd ambled back we were given a couple of tunes that once again showed the high level of musical competence these blokes had.
It was however being played in a very clinical environment. Rather officious attendants patrolled the gantry to ensure that nobody had their mobile phones switched on. My mate Dave, who was going to take some photos of Buddy (using a wide angle lens), was informed by signs, the ushers and frequent tannoy announcements that "the use of photographic equipment was not permissible".
Eventually the set ended with a story about Peter Green and a song that suggested that if people didn't love their lady then eggs would refrain from becoming poultry and Mona Lisa would be a man! The musicians each weaved a solo into the song and received a polite smattering of applause from the audience, who basked in the glow of the fretwork on offer.
So turn again Bud Whittington. Did he pave the streets of Milton Keynes in gold? Well, no. His ability to make his guitar gently weep, sob and generally breakdown in tears is not in question, but the crowd never really seemed to be immersed in the gig. Believe it or not, this venue issues a warning on the ticket that 'People around you may stand'. Tonight, they did not. However the blame for this must surely be laid mainly on the building. Call me old fashioned but this type of music needs to be played in dingy little rooms with low ceilings and grubby blackened walls. 'The Stables' has none of these things. But hey, on a positive note, by 10.45pm we were outside and able to drive away easily along with all the other perfectly positioned cars.
Off we go to count them roundabouts again.
article by: Ian Painter
published: 13/05/2009 16:35
FUTURE GIGS
sorry, we currently have no gigs listed for this act.