London Islington Union Chapel
...it's just a strangely nervous performer acting out the word "shambolic"...
Unfortunately, equally uncharacteristic is a set that drags like a concrete block. Despite strong affiliations with [a]Lambchop[/a], Giant Sand and Calexico, Chesnutt's never really captured the alt-country heart, never quite shaken off the worthy-but-dull albatross. It's always seemed unjust - blessed with a vivid lyrical gift and a kudzu-covered, eloquently expressive voice, there should be no reason why he shouldn't find a spot on the best-dressed back porches. Tonight, though, it's only the twitch and flutter of 'Bernadette...' and the acrid panic of 'Dodge' that do him justice; otherwise, it's just a strangely nervous performer acting out the word "shambolic".
"Must... redeem... self," he growls, and everybody laughs. But only just.
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