Christy Myers, Gig Review. The Courtroom Cafe, Liverpool.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

There is a moment, a long and lengthy process in which it might take a music lover to fall for somebody, not the normal instant attraction in which club land offers with its steady rhythmic beat and fuelled by cheap alcohol, the smell of testosterone hanging in the air and mixing freely with the pungency of liberally dosed perfume, not in the circles of Folk or the acoustic nights offered throughout the city do those rules apply; here is the normality not energised by desire but by aural sensibility, to fall for one person and their guitar is to know love and in Christy Myers, it is one that gave with passion and joy immediately.

As you listen to Christy Myers the allusion of the racehorse comes to mind, the noble in full flight, the guitar playing stranger rolling into town on the back of a snorting breed but one who comes into the saloon and plays not for the crowd in the hope of a whisky slid down the bar for his troubles but to sing to his ride, the beast tied up that has galloped over miles and run roughshod through the desert; this horse may have no name, this noble creature may be anonymous but the rider, the bard with a purpose is very much a name to watch out for, the name of Christy Myers.

As the Courtroom Café listened, a sense of intensity came filtering through, a calm greatness wafted gently around the room and was punctuated by the concentration on the audience’s faces. This was a set of youthful demeanour, one in which the travelling bard was in a room of solid support, support that has seen it come and go but always finds room for one more to love.

In the tracks Will You Still Let Me Go, Things Get Better in October, King of Spain, Fore Gone and Crimson Lines, Christy Myers proved himself immediately, a find in which on the day which Liverpool’s Eleanor Nelly signed her first record deal, sprung hope eternally for the youth of Liverpool. The city which keeps giving has a new travelling musical bard in town.

Ian D. Hall