Martyn Joseph is a performer like no other: Shades of Springsteen, John Mayer, Bruce Cockburn and Dave Matthews there may be - but he stands in his own right, built on a reputation for giving what thousands have described as the best live music experience of their lives delivering his "songs of lyrical intelligence" according to BBC Radio 2's Bob Harris.

December 3, 2000 1:51 pm

Martletts Hall, Burgess Hill

We found Burgess Hill quite quickly, but took the wrong turning to the venue. As Martyn indicated to turn around a mini roundabout back on ourselves, a Vauxhall Astra cut us up on the inside. If Martyn hadn’t been quick enough to brake, there wouldn’t have been a show tonight and all the people would have got away Scott free without sobbing into their loved ones shirts and jumpers. We arrived at the gig to be greeted by Phil the soundman and Rachel (who made us a nice cup of tea). As we settled down to sound check, I notice Martyns monitor was pointing at his knees. Now! unless I’m mistaken, Martyns ears are on his head. Maybe he should have a pair like Prince Charles grafted onto his knees so that he could listen in depth to the clarity of monitors provided tonight. The sound was good tonight. We balanced everything up in the monitors and headed upstairs to get ready for the gig.

Each Night has its great moments. Tonight I felt “Treasure the Questions,” sounded great. Every night we perform “All this Time”, I feel the presence of Big Mike lurking somewhere at the back. We finish the first spot with the second most popular of Mr Josephs Tracks, “The Ballad of Richard Lewis” .After meeting a few people, we head back to the stage for the second spot. “Please Sir” opens spot 2. I enjoy playing the newer tracks. After learning an extra 12 songs or so, I’m beginning to know them well enough now. The Journey home is a daunting prospect. 4hours back to the bed I left earlier. We are now pulling up to the toll booths on the Severn Bridge, which reminds me that “Going Home” has yet to be played on this tour. We drive through and we’re on our way home.

Au Renoir and Good Night.


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