Martin Stephenson...

Saw Martin Stephenson last night, with Howard, in the back room of Korks Wine Bar in Otley, an intimate performance space with its own bar. The only previous time I’ve seen him was in the Argyll Hotel in Ullapool, the night before I took the ferry to Stornoway. I didn’t even know who I’d been watching until I Googled the Argyll Hotel the following day; he lives nearby, apparently, and gigs at the hotel once a month. More than the self-penned songs I recall him as an affable performer who didn’t seem to take himself too seriously.

He’s been around for a long while, playing his music, without troubling the charts. He did a bit of name-dropping, though mainly of fellow musicians who have also been largely untouched by fame. He was as affable as I remember, though he hinted at hard times, and let us know he was drinking alcohol-free beer; maybe the ever-ready smile is to keep the blues at bay. It was an enjoyable evening, especially as we had a table at the front. When I saw Neil Young he was a distant figure on a stage. Martin Stephenson, by contrast, was just a few feet away. He gurned, he sang, he took the audience into his confidence… and played some mean guitar…

The Mildmay memorial in Apethorpe Church...