 | | Little Barrie |
It takes something special for a frontman completely concealed behind an ‘under construction’ temporary pillar to connect with the audience in such a way that they feel like they’re spurring on their long lost son, but Little Barrie Cadogan got the familial juices flowing. They’re a strange mix of good old fashioned rock and roll, Merseybeat and something altogether far dirtier and a mile less innocent. Tunes start out like a homage to ‘There’s a hole in my bucket’ and then throb their way over insistent bass lines and held chords into the inexplicable three-way love-child of Solomon Burke, Jagger and Corduroy. There’s a really intriguing juxtaposition of the simple with the intricate. They’re real masters of their instruments, with some stunning drum-licks, yet the song structures remain uncluttered by clumsy modulations or Westlife chord changes. There are allusions to Jaco Pastorius in the finger work of bassist Wharton, though fortunately without pinging about on needless harmonics. Apache-heist tunes segueing into jazz waltzes, straight down the line blues fair, Clinton-esque funk diversions; you can’t lump Little Barrie into a Brits’ category – they’ve got far more soul. | 
