Live Review: Sweet Jean, Jim Lawrie

Caravan Music Club is a quaint venue with an atmosphere reminiscent of the fisherman's tavern in The Mighty Boosh's Old Gregg episode; there's an unlit mirror ball dangling overhead, numbered tables lined with checkerboard tablecloth and generous glasses of wine. At the centrepiece is an elegant stage marked out with ornate blue-and-white framing and luscious curtains, which are drawn back to reveal the performers.

Jim Lawrie, who opens the show, takes the stabilisers of country-imbibed folk and wraps them into his own interesting package. His songs build triumphantly and there's a wide-eyed, optimistic charm to his tunes. Ryan Adams is the obvious point of comparison and, although his recordings drift over familiar territory at times, Lawrie's live show belongs completely to him, as he proves a warm, fulfilling introduction to the night.

Stepping on the stage as a four-piece, Sweet Jean's last show of the tour brings their newly released album, Monday To Friday, to life. Interspersed among (truly dreadful) Pokemon Go banter are pulsating ballads, shaped from a plethora of different influences and tones. Sweet Jean are a tricky band to categorise, they hopscotch between influences; one moment Tarantino-esque gloomy surf-rock, at other times warm, Britpop-infused country-folk. It's fair to say they've arrived with their own genre and boast confidence cemented by extensive tour dates.

The set purrs with ragged gain offset by country-style trebly guitars piled on top of an energetic drum beat provided by Roger Bergodaz and a solid bass performance from John Castle. Occasional autoharp accompaniments flutter pleasantly across songs like Angels Come Get You. Vocalist Alice Keath has an incredible vocal palate; ghostly, soulful and sweet, her voice is powerful yet her performance subtle. This intent of portraying the right tone for each song is Keath's true talent and a reminder that the group is a collaborative effort.  

Singer Sime Nugent, meanwhile, has wonderfully complementary vocals. He brings depth and unique warmth to the set, which is also enhanced by his colourful guitar solos. Still Here provides an excellent example of this interplay - the song is simple and rests on the shoulders of Nugent's and Keath's vocal chemistry - while Main Street also stands out for its cohesion. It's not surprising that by the draw of the night, a number of audience members step away from their tables to twirl to the music.