Live Review

Benjamin Francis Leftwich – The Borderline, London

• 1st Apr 2011

Borderline is a strange venue, tucked away behind Tottenham Court Road. On entering, you go down a wood panelled stairway lined with photos of the greats who have played there: REM, Joan As Policewoman – to name but a few.

One drawback about the dark, cavernous venue was the lack of seating. 20 incredibly small stools and chairs scattered right at the back of the room don’t cut it after a long day at work. Many people sat on the stairs surrounding the square dance floor in the middle of the room, only to be barged past when the music began. At £3 for a small, warm flat soft drink, the refreshments don’t come cheap either.

Support came in the form of Sorry Kisses, well one half of them – due to the female vocalist being consigned to bed with a throat infection. Like a watered down, juvenile version of Nirvana, mumbling, incoherent, it came as no surprise that they have an album titled “Um and Ah”. Precisely.

Despite this, Sam Forrest was an amiable likeable chap. Whilst lacking stage presence, he made up for it with his affable personality – telling a story how he and the main act had taken a Soho rickshaw to the gig – and had gone the wrong way up a very long Tottenham Court Road on their way.

On to Benjamin Francis Leftwich. Here charisma was in its abundance, impressive from a 21 year old acoustic singer-songwriter. With melodies that soared, and a guitar that sang, harp-like and at times ethereal – from the very outset we knew we were on to something special.

Serious, with brow furrowed and playing with great concentration, Leftwich is not one for sloppy strumming. He sang some songs “uber quiet” – his words not mine. The sound evoked here was almost unplugged, guitar turned down low, with the singer standing well back from the mic. You could have heard a pin drop in the room – the audience was transfixed, silent, listening and awestruck.

Songs took on stories of epic scale – we heard dreamlike tales about skyscrapers built, then destroyed and rebuilt from glass – all to please a woman who couldn’t be pleased. In the song “1904”, a tale was spun of boats, grandmothers and great journeys – perhaps biographical – as Leftwich, whilst growing up in Yorkshire – has also spent lengths of time in South Africa and has Australian roots.

Finishing with the mighty Atlas Hands, Leftwich proved he has a real talent for weaving a powerful story. One to be watched – and definitely listened to.