An Lanntair, Stornoway, Isle of Lewis, 21 August 2009

Adrian Byron Burns

THIS SOLO appearance by Adrian Byron Burns was a reminder of how the whole Stornoway arts centre project has seen an enormous shift of scale in a few years. I saw him play up above the old town hall in the intimate venue, oak floor and slightly raised platform – perfect for one man and two guitars, maybe an amp or two. But luckily no clutter of pedals and gadgets.

We were all a bit worried how sell-out intimate gigs like Adrian’s and Martin Taylor’s would transfer to an auditorium with about four times the area and seats. The present an Lanntair is a sensible compromise of cinema and theatre needs.

At the bar beforehand I spoke to some folk who’d come along on the strength of that last gig. They were not regulars but had gone out to hear a respected exponent of blues and rock, an ace guitarist with a big voice. I’d gone along to Adrian’s first Stornoway outing because I knew the guy when I was 17 years old. We were both members of the Baha’i Faith then and that big guy’s guitar rang out through youth hostels and summer schools and vans and flats and caravans.

Don’t think I was aware then that this man earned his spurs opening tours for Neil Young and Alexis Korner. And I missed out on the Jimmy Jones and the Vagabonds days. But I’m catching up. You can hear a sample of his singing on the artist’s website, a Myspace link to a track with Bill Wyman’s Rhythm Kings.

Last Friday, there was still no clutter of audio-aids. Burns plays two guitars with hugely different tones. He also sings in hugely different tones but of course can ring the changes from one to the other through the same song.

Now this is the crunch question. In voice as well as in guitar playing we have a virtuoso artist. And a master craftsman. Since most of the material has been developed over years and refers back to Hendrix, Young, Simon, Sting and further to blues classics, is there a danger that the awesome talents are limited by being restricted to skilful variations on songs which are now classics?

Of course that’s a real danger. The risk is highest when he plays a whole range of Hendrix excerpts, a medley where the themes are bent and explored before giving you back the security of the riffs that are part of your formative culture. Yet even in that piece, the idea is not to make a sampler but an arrangement. Really it’s a new piece but moving in and out of recognized territory.

I was reminded of recordings of Mingus playing in Stuttgart and Paris and incorporating snatches of old time songs we got at primary six music classes, led from the straw loudspeakers linked to the school’s wireless set. A new music is being made from existing material and it’s not only a homage.

In some songs, I enjoyed the play of the shift from falsetto to baritone but longed for a settling into a simple rendering of a good lyric. Then you’d get it – whether it was in the Bill Withers soul classic ‘Ain’t No Sunshine,…’ or a superb version of Booker T Jones’ ‘Born Under A Bad Sign’ – more true to the blues root than the Cream version which we all hammered on our backroom Dansettes.

Burns played two self-penned songs, one in each half. Both were solid, but ‘Xenophobia Blues’ is haunting and blurs the distinctions, the borders between genres. Some might call this jazz. Some might call the whole performance of ringing shifts and changes a sort of jazz. And the dialogue and short bursts of political commentary are a part of it too.

Burns is currently playing in a three-piece with Henry Thomas and Jim Mullen. Let’s see him back this way again soon, solo or in that company. You can’t categorise what this man does so you could as easily call it Celtic as anything else if that’s what it takes to get the band back here for the big festival.

© Ian Stephen, 2009

Links

• Adrian Byron Burns
• Adrian Byron Burns on MySpace
• Ian Stephen