Paul Richards et John Grant

John Grant’s songs are things of great beauty and I can tell you now that no words I write will do justice to how they sound in concert. If I could attach a picture of my tear-stained face in lieu of a review, that’s just what I’d do. Once upon a time, the burley and bearded Grant was the singer in a band called The Czars; they made fairly serviceable rock music before hitting hard times, leading to the band calling it quits, Grant dealing with drug addiction and trying to come to terms with his sexuality proving too much alongside trying to make a living in a band. He took some time out, and returned with a deeply personal record called Queen of Denmark, recorded with the band Midlake. It felt like a lost classic, an album from a 1970s singer-songwriter, a mix of Elton John, Harry Nilsson and the Carpenters, and was truly moving. Following it up with the more electronic and brooding Pale Green Ghosts was a brave move but it’s one that makes his live show one of the most eclectic, emotional and involving experiences you’ll ever have. Grant plays tracks from Queen of Denmark with a full band, the cosmic sweep of ‘Marz’ grander than on record but it’s when he gets behind the piano and sings unaccompanied that the magic happens. ‘TC and the Honeybear’ becomes a fragile thing of beauty, and when he finally unveils ‘Glacier’ (from Pale Green Ghosts) I completely fall to pieces. Singing “this pain…it is a glacier running through me”, the tears start to fall at the sight of this wonderful and brave man sharing his innermost feelings with us. Honestly, there are no words which can capture the raw emotions of a John Grant show. Just prepare to be a blubbering mess and in need of a hug by the end of it.