Nov 17, 2009
FINK, JAZZ CAFE, LONDON, 16TH NOVEMBER.
Yesterday, on a brisk London night, Bristol-born Fink headlined the famous Jazz Cafe in Camden for the first time. As expected, he was playing to a full house, and from just the slightest utterance of a greeting, this sold out venue was his. Really, it’s not hard to see why. Fink and his two bandmates, with their messy hair and scruffy beards, are captivating when they play. Happy, saccharine music is not what these chaps are about. Instead, their songs - loaded with blues reminiscent of African-American slave song - deal in tension. Live, the thump of the drum, the steady, plodding bass, the rhythmic strum of Fink’s acoustic guitar - they all come together to produce what can only be described as an intense wall of sound that warms and engulfs.
You see, the thing that sets Fink, also known as Fin Greenall, apart from the rest of the world’s bounteous supply of faceless, guitar-toting singer-songwriters, is a deep understanding of haunting melodies. An incredible knack for atmospherics. And an admirable devotion to dynamics. It’s really these dynamics that picked the audience up, spirited it away on a dreamy exploration of sonic territory. The band’s rendition of ‘Sort Of Revolution‘ (from the album of the same name) is a perfect example of this; starting off mellow and quiet, then building, building, and crescendoing to an almighty aural assault of beautiful noise.
Greenall also happens to be an excellent vocalist. Throughout the hour and a quarter set, the clarity of his voice rose above the expertly and patiently nurtured bed of sound - every vocal embellishment confidently and soulfully sung, with just the slightest hint of a deep vibrato.
To be honest, I’d pretty much let Fink slip out of my consciousness until last night. Seeing him live was a joy, and along with the rest of the house, I was mesmerised. The fact that Greenall is himself humble (gratefully saying “nice one” after every song was met with rapturous applause) just makes the guy more endearing. My only problem? He didn’t perform his version of Alison Moyet’s ‘All Cried Out’ as part of the encore.
It’s a small cross to bare though.
Photography by Tim Ferguson.