Tuesday 06/05/09 Son Of Dave @ Twisted Licks, 100 Club, London

A palpable mixed crowd of young and old has gathered at Twisted Licks at the 100 Club tonight to see the one time Crash Test Dummies member show off his impressive knack for fusing beat-boxing and sampling with classic folk/blues harmonica-driven melodies. From the off, it’s apparent that Son of Dave would seem more at home in a dingy, smoke-ridden, southern state bar, or perhaps out on the porch of a flimsy looking wooden house. However, tonight that’s not the case and the inappropriately over-lit 100 Club will have to do. It certainly doesn’t seem to faze Darvill who knocks out a frantic set, complete with yelping, hollering and table-service…

Wearing his trademark trilby, sunglasses, what appears to be a smoking jacket and some rather fetching, intricately designed pyjamas, Son of Dave stalks onto the stage. Taking no heed of the playful heckling from the crowd, Darvill launches straight into ‘Leave without Singing’, beginning a foot-stomping set that never lets up. Movement between tracks is effortless, sampling and re-sampling vocals, shakers, tambourines, shrieks, melodies - even the audience play a part. Better known songs such as ‘Devil Take My Soul’ and ‘Hellhound’ get the crowd going, but the best response of the night is reserved for an excellent cover of ‘Low Rider’.

At one point, Darvill invites two audience members up on stage just to seat them at a small table and start pouring them each a glass of wine, no explanation, simply stating, “oh, and you can’t leave… unless you need the toilet”. The bemused couple laugh and enjoy the best seats in the house, later being drafted in to provide extra percussion.

The ability to hold an audience is no easy feat, yet somehow Darvill manges to do so with essentially a trilby, harmonica and a pair of beat up old brogues. The formulaic nature of blues and atmospheric style of Son of Dave's music could so easily be relegated to background music, fortunately, Darvill's natural rapport with the crowd and passionate, possessed-preacher like delivery drives home every note. It feels as if you’ve sat drinking with a friend too long, and they suddenly decide it’s the right time for an impromptu sing-along bashing at anything that will double for percussion.

By the end of the night this John Malcovich/gaunt Tom Waits/Christopher Lloyd in ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ look-alike even has the hecklers whooping and hollering. Still holding a glass of white wine he tears through the audience repeating, “Don’t leave; you’ve all got to stay”. We wish we could.