Wednesday 06/12/06 Lisa Germano, The Memory Band @ Everything Must Go, London

Never have a venue and act been so diametrically opposed. The shiny tiles and neon lights of Everything Must Go would be more suited to a vacant electro act like White Rose Movement. The Memory Band are a more ‘country pub with real ales and corn dollies’ lot. They get off to a bumpy start with a few technical hitches delaying them, they take it in good humour and once their seasick violins start sliding all over the place we've forgotten the unprofessional beginning and we're swaying along. Like a lot of folk bands they succumb to the compulsion to sing about maids in 'Olde Englishe' accents despite it being 2006. In this case, this is a deliberate nod to the traditional Scottish folk song as witnessed on Alistair Roberts' album and evinced in the opening and closing verses. It can seem a little trite to the more stony-hearted listener, however, the genial manner of the band and the big grins on their faces overcome this hesitation to embrace their wholesome attitude.

From this rural idyll we must depart as Lisa Germano brings us back to reality with a bump. Her tales of heartache in a firmly modern setting never become histrionic or overblown. On piano she's a subtler songstress than Carole King or Joni Mitchell, never allowing herself to stretch a note too long or slather on too much emotion. This temperance pays off until she picks up her guitar and then the subtlety can be lost, becoming merely pedestrian, buskey nonsense. She quickly pulls us back with her self-deprecating charm, however, and its clear this audience are fans- she's barely able to leave the stage for song requests and encores and queues to meet her. Both old songs and new ones from ‘In The Maybe World’ go down equally well and the gay guy behind us clutching the set list like a trophy and singing along to every song indicates how dearly she's loved in this room. One of the last numbers, ‘Golden Cities’, represents Lisa's sound well- a slightly wonky, music box melody with sad, simple lyrics and the power to leave the audience hushed on the closing bar.