WITH his bushy, greying beard and trucker's cap, dungarees and white vest, Seasick Steve conforms to the popular image of the vagabond bluesman, playing on street corners for beer money. He has also lived the life of the drifter he has enshrined in h
is songs.
His story is almost too perfect, especially when presented in such an intimate, informal staging, with just a drumkit, a choice of wooden chairs, a couple of guitars, including Steve's famous Three-String Trance Wonder, plus his Mississippi Drum Machine – a wooden box for stomping on, which got a cheer of its own when he brandished it for the crowd. He even brought his youngest son along to play washboard.
But even if the quaint set-up is in danger of overshadowing the songs, this laidback dude has the charm to pull it off. When he invited support act Amy LaVere back on stage for a duet, they spent as much time sitting around enjoying each other's company and liquor as they did covering Hank Williams's I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry.
Although Steve doesn't run the slickest of operations, he is not just a mellow old dog, spinning quaint ditties. He and his drummer rocked up a version of The Letter by The Boxtops in minimal but fiery White Stripes style, and there was always a primal edge to his electric numbers, despite the tendency to drift off into messy jams.
By the time he rolled out the Dog House Boogie for the encore, he had the audience howling along with him.
