A review of the Secret Songwriters Club Saturday 14th June.
“A Dutch neurologist team found that looking at an original painting stimulates ten times more brain activity than looking at a poster of the same artwork.” Artist Quote of the Day posted on Facebook.
“Human beings are incredibly creative, and it should be encouraged. We now have AI which is basically plagiarism. It comes from human experience and repeats what it’s told. But when someone writes from experience it is a heart-felt emotion and a lived experience. It has authenticity. I suppose this is a political statement, really“. Martin Edwards.
In a period when opportunities for original songs performed live are diminishing, Martin’s words are particularly apposite. Tonight’s musicians all had original material and performed it with pride, enjoyment and passionate commitment. It is the engagement of human emotion that gives music and performance authenticity, by which I mean that the shared human experience expressed reverberates with the life experiences of the audience and those emotions are held in common for a while.
It is a personal risk to expose one’s talent and vulnerable feelings, but it provides the opportunity for the audience to let their own emotions out. An audience will respond to authenticity even if the performance has flaws. Perhaps specially if it has flaws.
Violet Cry is a duo: Diane Wye (vocals) and Ian Wilson (guitar, keyboard) who are also a writing team. They delivered dramatic, emotional narratives characterised by good on-stage rapport and performer-pride and enjoyment. In the sixth song, the interlude provided by the keyboard, with its building of gentler power, was an effective contrast leading to the set’s denouement.
Steve Milligan (guitar and vocals) is a musician whose total performative involvement with his songs gave authenticity to what was happening musically. Giving his instrument its potential, this was a storm of a performance, the brevity of some of the songs giving extra pace.
Jim Farmer’s musical blend of songs of innocence and experience, of visceral raging and wistful longing rounded off an energy-packed evening in which his latest song, The Man and the Sand gave a moment’s silence in the face of that most inevitable human experience: death…
And then the ritual of dismantling the stage and extinguishing the spotlight of vulnerability. Until the next time.
We must make sure there is always a next time.
Thanks to performers, audience, Mike Aitchison (sound engineer), organisers, and host Tom’s Tap.
© Sandra Gibson 2025
