Escaping the Vizes for a second week on the trot, I found myself back down Trowbridgeโs lovable Pump, but if last week it was all comedy hip hop, kazumpet and washtub bass, tonight was going to be a smidgen more seriousโฆ.
Understandably concerned Iโm going to be part of the furniture at Wiltshireโs finest alternative music venue, they welcomed this silly old chap anyway, a silly chap with a local event calendar who still managed to get their dates mixed up! Thankfully it was Ruby, the girl who today would set proceedings off by making a grand entrance with bagpipes, who corrected my senior moment and told me last week that this gig was next week, being this week, when I thought it was next week this week, and now Iโm confused again; pass me my meds!
Whatever date it fell on I had enthusiastically bookmarked this gig, on the strength of the support acts alone. Anything else would be a bonus ball, and indeed was, a boulder-sized bonus ball the like to make Indiana Jones peg it. But to start at the beginning, upon meeting Ruby Darbyshire and dad, Brian, at Soup Chick, I fondly reviewed her EP, making it impossible not to want to hear her perform live. Though, yes, she came in all bagpipes blazing, something you may have recently caught her playing in Devizes Brittox supporting Wayne Cherry on his 100 Hours of Remembrance, she swapped to guitar on the stage, promising something completely different, and proving sheโs no one trick pony.ย

And it was a fantastic all-female acoustic showdown. To have a blasting six-piece cover band behind you is one thing, but stripped back to you alone, offloading your woes and ponderings, on a stage with just a string instrument, takes paramount talent and a whole sack of courage. In this, young Ruby seemed understandably nervy, apologised for a cold, then pulled out the most expressive and wonderful set of originals, the like of which could warm up emperor penguins during their incubation chore!ย
Starting off with her own song, a personification of the Pandoraโs Box idiom, which I summarised thus in the ep review, โnails the process of a labyrinthine of issues once pursued generates greater problems, and itโs conveyed sublimely,โ Ruby talked passionately about her thought process and journey, including her winning recording time at the Cheese & Grain via the Kendal Calling festival and paid homage to Justin Hayward. A few more fabulous originals followed, with a spell-binding tribute to Sinรฉad O’Connor, a Hozier cover and encore of The Cranberriesโ Zombie. If you consider the latter to be a cliche choice, reconsider upon me explaining, Ruby played it on Scottish smallpipes while her dad accompanied her on guitar.

With every right to repeat myself, when I said last week, โwhere the common venue prioritises profit and aims to attract and appease with a renowned name, The Pump will be the one introducing you to the next name, supporting the local circuit, ensuring your entertainment is affordable, and to pay it a visit is to be a human participant to the experience, rather than herded cattle,โ is not only an age thing, but perhaps a statement more apt this week than last. For if Ruby is an upcoming must-see local musician, M3G followed her and again the same rule applies.

My daughter proved the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree when she interviewed Meg, and I caught her once before performing at The Neeld. Though Chippenham based, she appeared more at home at the Pump; Kieran and his team ensure the supportive ethos to rising stars, as do the crowd. It is perfect for this kind of occasion, a trio of wonderful acoustic folk performers. Meg delivered with passion, in her unique way, her set of original songs, and it is ever something engaging. She introduced her newest song, Reader, and you couldโve heard a pin drop during breaks as she held the audience in awe. Her songs are often dejected in prose, the contemplation of coming of age, dealing with autism or relationships, yet her commanding, confident vocals are idiosyncratically beautiful, solitary and distinctive.

If both Ruby and Meg were a pleasure to listen to and the reasons I was here at The Pump, knowing this was enough for me, the headline, Amelia Coburn, I had deliberately refrained from researching. I used to do this at record fairs, randomly buy an album, and go in blind. Kieranโs recommendation is plentiful, and has never failed me yet. Pleasantly unsurpised, solo with just an arrangement of ukuleles, Amelia was knockout entertainment.
A prolific Middlesbrough artist, Amelia had visited The Pump before and understandably gained a returning audience, some of whom wished to drop the bombshell to me, confirming how wonderful she was. But through songs of exceptionally crafted and imaginative sunny-side-of-the-street narrative, her ability for stage banter and audience participation was second to none. For example, upon requesting secrecy for her unreleased song, Seesaw, that no one filmed it, over the stage lights she spotted a phone waving and called them up on it mid-song, only to realise it was her own manager!ย ย

But perhaps the funniest moment was her recollection of her last performance at the Pump, when she encouraged the audience to clap along, and had to kindly ask one out of time and distracting chap to stop! You cannot write a coincidental punchline like the notion the same chap was sitting in front this time too, and despite her light-hearted warning, again clapped out of time, to again futilely attempt to continue without giggling. But herein was the delight of this performance, her carefree and optimistic mannerisms within her improv stage presence and nature of her songs are a blessing, comparable to a stereotypically folk singerโs sombre tenet. Encouraging the audience to sing along to a song about her being nacho cheese should the doctor tell her you are what you eat, is one of many zany examples!

But Amelia is creatively inventive when serious too, wonderful originals, Nodding Dog, Perfect Storm on a stick dulcimer, and a whimsical tribute to Harry Nilsson, was polished off with an outstanding encore of Bowieโs Life on Mars. With dashes of Americana, bluegrass, and particularly Irish folk, it’s predominantly lovable English folk, spiced with Midland banter, but it’s confidently delivered and highly entertaining.
Another satisfying experience at The Pump, Trowbridge has never had it so good.



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