Dave Simpson 

Ed Harcourt

Leadmill, Sheffield
  
  


Ed Harcourt works so hard, it is not surprising his mud-brown Oxfam pinstripe suit is crumpled. He plays guitar, piano and synthesiser; he sings, using a special 1920s BBC-type microphone to get a crooner-style effect; and he joins in a percussion workout with his drummer. Then he turns teacher, hauling a young lad up from the audience and showing him a guitar chord, which the lad then bashes out ferociously for an entire song.

These are good times for the 24-year-old singer-songwriter from Sussex. Nominated for a Mercury award for his last album, Here Be Monsters, Harcourt is road-testing material for his next effort, and the omens are good: the crowd is with him all the way. But not everyone's new tunes are as outstanding as the hook-laden All Your Days Be Blessed, or Watching the Sun Come Up, a sublimely evocative Dexy's-type pop tune about walking away from it all.

These songs offer just two of Harcourt's many sides. He is known as a serious singer from the Jeff Buckley school, but there is so much more to his performance here as he breathes new life into the singer-songwriter stereotype. His humour is as infectious as his songs. "This one's for you, and you, and you!" he cries. "Not me?" someone shouts back. "No!" he yells, with a flick of his Elvis fringe. "Later, baby!"

Harcourt never settles anywhere for long; he dashes from film noir to a Mexican Tom Waits vibe, backed by trumpets and bells. Only seconds after joking with the crowd, he delivers a great ballad, The Birds All Sang for Us, which, you gradually realise, is about death. Then, idling at the piano while the band are tuning up, he begins to wail: "I've been loving you too long, baby... I put on mah Craig David records," and people collapse in laughter.

Perhaps in 12 months, Craig David will be singing - less mischievously - about Ed Harcourt. Next year will certainly be a very big one for this mercurial performer. He might even get to buy himself a brand new suit.

· At the Bloomsbury Theatre, London WC1, tonight and tomorrow. Box office: 020-7388 8822.

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*