Despite a shot to fame with his debut album released last year, and the subsequent heavy airplay of despairingly honest single ‘Another Love’, Tom Odell remains a very humble young man. As he steps onstage to high-pitched squealing noises reverberating around the beautiful features of Edinburgh’s Usher Hall, Odell appears unassuming, shy and, it has to be said, utterly likeable. Bright bold letters spell out his name above his head, something that makes him feel oddly uncomfortable. “It’s a bit too much,” he says, “a bit too Elvis for me”.
Before getting signed to Lily Allen’s label, In The Name Of, the Chichester-born 23 year old was a student at the Brighton Institute of Modern Music, where he met and befriended the first act of the evening, James Bay.
Bay, who effortlessly switches from his acoustic to electric guitars during his short set, showcases impressive guitar-playing ability alongside a powerful bluesy bellowing voice. His mouth often contorts into a pseudo-pained expression as he hits the high notes on ‘We Were On Fire’, and eases through challenging guitar licks and barrés that are Hendrix-inspired in places. It’s a satisfying brand of wholesome, acoustic rock that does wonders in warming up the growing congregation.
The second act for the evening, one-man project Fryars (aka Benjamin Garrett), excels as he delivers an entrancing, psychedelic blend of electronic music, enhanced by ambient sounds and experimental microphone effects. Swigging from a bottle of wine and sporting a buttoned up white collar, Mr Garrett brings class to the proceedings. Sat at his synthesiser and unable to resist urges to move forward in rhythm with the groove, he is reminiscent of fellow Londoner and Mercury laureate James Blake. Fryars really is a bundle of talent, and it’s worth keeping an eye out for him.
When Tom Odell finally sits down to his much-loved Roland piano, elevated at the centre of the stage, he dives into a rendition of album title track ‘Long Way Down’, which sounds haunting coupled with the band’s harmonies. At just under 3 minutes long, it’s a surprisingly short affair. It’s immediately overridden by a big clashing of drums and prolonged piAno hammering as Odell flies into the more punchy and desperate ‘Hold Me’. There’s lots of excited foot stomping, blonde hair a-flying and convulsive body movements going on, and the Brit-award winner recalls a tamer Jerry Lee Lewis, bringing a whole new meaning to being on the edge of your seat.
Following this crowd pleaser, the tone is taken down a notch with ‘Can’t Pretend’, another imploring love song, which features notes that highlight Odell’s impressive vocal range. “Love, I have wounds/Only you can mend”, he croons, closing in his eyes in mock concentration as the girls falter and sigh. Next up on the set list is ‘Sirens’: an understated, disappointingly average composition.
In fact, despite Odell’s obvious proficiency on the piano, there is a lingering feeling of repetitiveness in his music, perhaps due to the incessant drumming backdrop and his wounded vocals. You can’t help but feel that a more diverse use of instrumentation, or a change in the song subjects, would best showcase his talent. Even if it’s just to answer NME critics, who controversially gave Odell’s album a 0 star review branding it “offensively dull piano pop destined for Brits ubiq- uity”.
The 23 year old is anything but dull though, and he does occasionally break with his good boy image. Between songs, he explains how he asked for the best whiskey in Scotland for the gig, before holding it up and stating “and they just put it in a f**king plastic cup”.
An evening highlight is a delightfully excessive cover of The Beatles’ ‘Get Back’. Accompanied by James Bay on rhythm guitar, whose swirling solo earns appreciation from the Scottish crowd, Odell powers through the ballad, clanging the keys, and gaining approving nods from the older counterparts of the audience.
By the encore, Odell’s restlessness cannot be contained anymore, and he walks to the edges of the stage, coaxing the public into clapping along. There’s time for a stroke of genius in Willie Dixon-penned ‘I Just Wanna Make Love To You’, made famous by the legendary Etta James, which is enthralling as Odell plays with his pin- up image and teases the front row of the crowd. The cover of Paul Simon’s ‘Gone At Last’ is equally inspiring.
If anything, this encore serves to prove that Odell exudes flair and is very much at ease when he plays the greats, but he has yet to transfer it to his own creations.
Cultural ponderings 