Dexy's, Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, Friday 21st September 2012

A Dexy’s concert attracts an interesting mixture of mainly older audience goers, reflecting the fact that the band that was once Dexy’s Midnight Runners were big in the 1980s.  Dexy’s have been through innumerable line up changes (Wikipedia lists 30 current or past band members) but at its heart is Kevin Rowland, backed by whichever set of musicians he has enlisted to provide the silky texture to underscore one of Britain's finest vocalists.

Rowland is a tortured musical genius who over the years has enjoyed a difficult relationship with critics, fellow band members and his wardrobe.  In response, he attracts a small but devout following that includes middle aged soul boys wearing flat caps, turned up jeans and leather soled shoes.

The show starts with new album One Day I’m Going To Soar.  Played in its entirety, it does not make things easy for the non believer.  Audiences wanting the greatest hits do not always appreciate having to sit through unfamiliar concept albums, as bands going back to The Who playing Tommy in the 1960s have found, and One Day is not a comfortable first listen.  With its spoken word sections and confessional tone, the album is far from uplifting material.  As Rowland says in new song It’s Okay John Joe ‘I don’t show much of myself in life, but in my music I tend to put it all in.’

Things are not helped by the vocal being slightly muffled in parts and a reverential atmosphere descends.  There is little attempt to build a rapport with the audience and conversation is restricted to a few thank yous, reflecting Rowland’s shyness.  But there are strong songs on the new album, and if there was any justice in the world the single She Got A Wiggle would be blaring out of radios everywhere.

The lack of audience interaction continues once the new album is dispensed with, with one of the band appearing dressed as a 1950s police sergeant for inter song banter with Rowland.  It’s a pre rehearsed device that could have been insensitive in the light of the shooting of the two Manchester police officers but as a means of setting up This Is What She’s Like and Tell Me When My Light Turns Green it works, with the latter number proving to be the highlight of the show.

Rowland finally plays one of his trio of instantly recognisable hits with world wide chart topper Eileen.  Sadly fellow number one single Geno, the eminently singalongable Jackie Wilson Said and other songs that got radio play in the band’s heyday do not get an airing.

Despite this, by the end most of the audience is on its feet, waving hands in the air and dancing in their seats.  The faithful have been rewarded.  With less emphasis on the new album and a better selection of songs from a strong back catalogue, the non believers might have been dancing from earlier on in the show too.

Danny Bhoy, Chorley Little Theatre, 23 September 2012

Some stand ups limber up for a gig by baiting the audience members in the front rows. Danny Bhoy eschews this approach for his Dear Epson show. Shuffling onstage in unbuttoned check shirt and jeans, and looking for all the world like a postgraduate student in a shared house who has got up late for breakfast, he initially comes across as a mild mannered kind of guy. But the sheaf of letters he has penned to various corporate giants, around which his show is constructed, reveals an angry inner Danny. He reads the letters whilst sat on a stool, giving an intimate and confessional air to the show.  And whilst his targets are mostly institutions everyone is familiar with, his reasons for attacking them are often personal. From BT To Oil of Olay, Danny has critical questions for them all, wanting to know why Epson printer ink costs as much drop for drop as vintage champagne and whether FIFA President Sepp Blatter took a bung when he awarded Qatar the 2022 World Cup. As a Scot, he's particularly perturbed by the latter. 'Knowing my luck, that's the only World Cup we'll qualify for in my lifetime.  The one you can't drink at.' Candle manufacturers Molton Brown get a letter asking how they can justify charging £36.50 for marketing a candle that is meant to conjure up a forest on the edge of midnight but which to Bhoy smells like wet grass.  His missive to British Airways, twelve years after their failure to let him reschedule a flight back from New York without having to pay for a new ticket, is a reflection on how a TransAtlantic love affair fizzled out.  He also reveals something of the young Danny, cutting pictures of New York out of brochures collected from the local travel agent to paste on his bedroom wall. The letters are an opportunity to lay some ghosts to rest.  Mr Dowel, the school woodwork teacher who never had the comic possibilities of his name exploited at the time, gets a letter. Rather satisfyingly, Bhoy tells him that whilst IKEA has rendered redundant what he learnt about joinery, he did get somewhere as a result of joking around in class. The show was well paced, and appreciated by the audience.  That it was a work in progress is evidenced by the fact that Bhoy had an idea on stage as to how his letter to Ticketmaster could be improved. 'Write that down, somebody.'  In the interests of furthering his comedy genius and without revealing the gag - Captcha, Danny, Captcha. The show concludes with a touching letter of advice from Bhoy to his 13 year old self. This final letter encapsulates the thoughful and thought provoking nature of a well written, beautifully executed and very funny show.