Across his solo career, Bill Ryder-Jones has taken inspiration from a broad expanse of music. His debut, If…, drew on the ambience of film score composers Abel Korzeniowski, Michael Galasso and Clint Mansell, with much of the album being recorded with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic.
The follow-up, A Bad Wind Blows In My Heart, played out like a reverential ode to the minimal solemnity of Bill Callahan. His third, West Kirby Country Primary, showed Bill’s musical tastes moving into more voluminous waters with Welsh psych-rockers Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci and Super Furry Animals on heavy repeat around the time the album was written.
For his recent run of live shows, we find Bill in duo formation alongside Evelyn Halls (Pet Snake, Clean Cut Kid) on cello and harmonies. The result is an amalgamation of the neo-classical sweeps of his debut and the minimalist alt-folk of its successor. And the two combine to stunning effect, Evelyn providing a comforting cloak of velvety decadence to Bill’s fractured acoustic yearnings.
Bill’s partnership with Evelyn is nothing new. They have played together in various guises for some years now. And it is, perhaps, the longevity of their union that allows Bill to thrive. He trusts her. He is at ease.
BRJ’s overtly confessional songs – the setlist tonight represents a fair spread of his back catalogue, albeit with a bias to last album Iechyd Da – are ideally suited to this sparse arrangement. The frailties, the aching, the flush open-ness of Bill’s most heart-broke lyrics are accentuated here.
Such prized agony is felt most on the choral refrain “I’m too much, I’m not enough, for you to love” on I Know That It’s like This (Baby). Or “I miss you more than they do, I love you more than they do”, directed to his father on the raw and unfettered John. Or, lamenting the tragic, early loss of his brother: “Daniel belongs to the ocean”. These are insanely beautiful-yet-crushing moments.
Given all this, it’s telling just how utterly sociable Bill appears. Don’t get me wrong, BRJ often enjoys a natter between songs and can be as sharp as any tack when it comes to storytelling. But this is a little different. He is more relaxed, informal, congenial.
Bill’s character is often bubbling away at the surface. He is authentically revealing. We hear what his support act, Brooke Bentham, is like when she gets drunk. Bill proclaims his love for Lee Southall, his old Coral bandmate, who is in the Hebden Bridge crowd. (It’s the first time the two have met in 10 years.) He cheekily, affectionately comments on Evelyn’s gait as she (nearly eight months pregnant) awkwardly descends the stage midway through the set, leaving him to play a handful of tracks solo.
There’s an undeniable theme of intimacy, or familiarity, to tonight’s proceedings. Tickets sold out in just 10 minutes for this show and you sense the room is packed with ardent fans. It is one of nine nights on a UK tour that takes in an assortment of cosy, grassroots spaces. Support act, Brooke, who plays in Sam Fender’s band, is a good friend of Bill’s. He produced her 2020 debut album Everyday Nothing. There are homely comforts at every turn.
Turbulent times may have shaped his finest, most emotive work to date, but it’s a joy to see Bill in loftier mood. And, somewhat surprisingly, the songs are elevated to a whole new level too.
Follow Bill Ryder-Jones on Instagram for more gig announcements and news of future releases.
Leave a Reply