David Ford

Fronting the indie soft rock group Easyworld didn’t really help David Ford’s credibility stakes, and is probably why the likes of Ian Brown, Richard Ashcroft and Paul Weller all manage to sell out venues much larger than the tiny King Tut’s, where Mr. Ford is playing tonight.



Having said that, former band glory certainly isn’t the best way to judge the quality of the solo performer, and I’d much rather listen to Ford’s tender, heart-warming musings than watch Ian Brown scratch his arse on stage and do his best to imitate a newborn monkey.

There’s a certain air of maturity to Ford’s performance tonight, and his youthful voice seems to have developed a huskier pitch that suits the new busker-come-folk style that his solo offerings have managed to capture so eloquently.


There’s also a fully-fledged band to accompany him, complete with trombones, saxophones, ukuleles, a pedal steel guitar, and all manner of interesting instruments. Last time I saw Ford he was just bashing an old suitcase with the palm of his hand and calling that the group’s percussion section. Tonight had a far more grandiose sound, like the ‘big band’ version of a Beatles classic, or when Dylan decided that he’d go all electric and rope in a backing band for his ‘66 tour.

It’s no real surprise that Ford, with his bittersweet lyrics and heart wrenching vocals, chose to cover one of the greatest British acts to convey the true meaning of melancholy; The Smiths, and the morose meanderings of ‘There is a light that never goes out’, aided by Ford’s torturous delivery, is something that borders on the sublime.



It all comes to a stand still when Ford says that he wants to make one exception for the incessant audience chatter that often threatens to drown out the quieter moments at gigs. He draws our attention to a couple standing towards the front of the crowd, and the man duly proposes to his girlfriend, forcing ‘ahhhhs’ from the sentimental female members of the audience, and heckles of ‘Cheer up you miserable f*ck’ from the inebriated male collective.

Perfection is gloriously executed with the scathing observational masterpiece ‘State of the union’, where Ford venomously spits out lyrical brilliance like “How they love you, so cold and so vicious, with friends like these, well, who needs politicians”, while looping different instruments to create a build up of dissonant harmony, ending with Ford screeching into the mic for a guttural crescendo. Fantastic.



The cynical types among us might knock Ford for his inability to refrain from using swear words in his songs, and at times it does look like Ford has relied on the odd expletive to try and gain that extra impact. While I’d certainly entertain that theory you can’t knock the unifying magnetism of tonight’s closer ‘Cheer Up, You Miserable F*ck’, and when a packed King Tuts crowd chant it back at the group you can’t help but raise a little smile.

This tour was in support of Ford’s new album ‘Songs for the road’, released last week. The newer material is as oddly uplifting as we’ve come to expect from this artist, and most poignantly ‘I’m Alright Now’ reeks of overblown opulence.


There are some poppier moments that hark back to his Easyworld days, and reminds us all that first and foremost Ford comes from a pop background. ‘Decimate’, despite it’s lyrical prowess is a bit too cheery, and over-produced for my liking, the soul seemingly ripped out of the record and replaced by a Simply Red backing track. ‘Nobody tells me what’ on the other hand sounds like a typical Duke Special number, coated in sentiment and foot-tapping splendour.

None of it quite reaches the magnificence of his debut ‘I Sincerely Apologize For All The Trouble I've Caused’, and it feels like a raw element of Ford’s songs has gone missing somewhere down the line. Yet that doesn’t detract from what is an excellent performance, topped off with great renditions of ‘I don’t care what you call me’, ‘State of the union’ and of course, ‘Cheer up you miserable f*ck’.

FUTURE GIGS

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