For a few precious hours, the elegant surroundings of City Winery are transformed into a Greenwich Village basket-house of the early 1960s – raucous sing-song acoustic revelry meets genuine performance – two men, two guitars, a vast array of stories and melodic travels with absolutely no frills. Just talent and audience. An Experience. This perfectly coupled tour opened by bearded and burly British singer-songwriter, Will Varley, who’s songs reflect an earthy pub-esthetic, and the lanky (and also bearded) Stephen Kellogg, by way of Connecticut, who’s warm country folk tunes of people you know even if you’ve never met them, turns the idea of “concert” on its head. The evening unfurls as if the performers have nestled next to you at the neighborhood bar.
Photo by Ehud Lazin
The night starts with with Varley’s set, which comes on as unaffected as humanly possible in front of a packed room; he strides casually in mid-strum, easing into his most arresting song, “King for a King,” its verses of growing up dumbfounded emerge from his thick English accent. He winds through his set with wry commentary and keen observations on travel, marriage, a wonderfully charming talking blues about a talking cat, and finishes with a new song, “Long Way Back to Now” that stuns the audience silent. Many of the people sitting around me, not the least of which lead singer of Counting Crows, Adam Duritz, remark on its emotional impact.
After a short respite and promo film providing the room with a mini bio of his incredible journey in song and story, Stephen Kellogg opens with one of my favorites, “Prayers.” Originally composed and performed on piano, but here with just guitar, it strikes deeper into its exposition on overcoming distress and setback. The rest of the set, however, is out of the singer-songwriter’s hands, as he passes a bucket around the venue and asks the audience to tell him how to build the set. A wide variety of his canon comes back, and Kellogg responds enthusiastically, playing, among others, “Song for My Daughters,” My Favorite Place,” and “Father’s Day” – all snapshots of his day-to-day philosophy that makes his songs so damn relatable.
The evening ends as it began, with Kellogg regaling us about an old middle school flame, and his memories of her against his own maturation – a moving tribute to youth and discovery and eventual tragedy. “Waitress,” will appear on his next album due this spring. Then, of course, his seminal closer, “See You Later, See You Soon,” joined by Varley, an old friend who he tells us booked his first gigs, and the rest of his crew, who are all songwriters, playing in front of the stage without microphones – house lights up, everyone on their feet singing, and waving goodbye.
No frills. Just music.
Photo by Ehud Lazin
