A PERFECT DAY: Dancers at the Effra Tavern
A PERFECT DAY: Dancers at the Effra Tavern
Music inspires us to move our bodies with joy - Brixton bluesman Errol Linton's funky jams providing my summer dance soundtrack
Save the last dance for me: that classic ballad was written by Doc Pomus, a disabled blues singer who understood the importance of dancing with your loved one.
I took the above photo on a recent Wednesday night at the Effra Tavern in Brixton. I was there, as I regularly am, to see Errol Linton’s blues band (whose weekly residency is one of London’s great free events) and the two women were seated at the table in front of ours. Errol’s band are funky in a loose, down-home manner - they know how to cook up a jam without ever sounding forced - and people regularly get up and dance. I wasn’t surprised when the two women began to boogie, until I noticed that the woman on the left was in a wheelchair.
As with our table, they had been enjoying the music and a drink. Then Errol led the band into Country Girl, a song with a rhythm so infectious the rockin’ pneumonia (as Huey “Piano” Smith called it) breaks out and people leap up to dance. The able-bodied girl stood and they joined hands and began to move, swaying back and forth, side to side, grooving to the rhythm’s staccato, shifting patterns. The joy on their faces was evident. A beautiful situation.
Music is magic and its ability to make people want to dance – engaging our bodies in something so simple and elemental - ensures I love it even more. Dance is, surely, the most fun we can have with our clothes on, everyone from toddlers to the very old like to move to certain pieces of music. You don’t have to be a gifted dancer to dance (unlike singing – I can’t sing a note and, when I attempt to, people request I hush my mouth) and, as the young woman in the wheelchair demonstrated, you don’t need to be able bodied to dance. If you feel the music then dance whatever way you can. It feels good, so do it.
Out on the floor: Errol’s band at the Effra. Dig Gary (the drummer) and Mike’s (the double bassist) intense eye contact! These musicians’ were concentrating and communicating. The results were stunning.
Ever considered how the most repressed people are often the ones who won’t dance? Fundamentalists keep trying to ban dancing (or, in the case of the Taliban/Islamists, music itself). And lots of men are uncomfortable with letting go and risking making a fool of yourself. Can you imagine Rishi Sunak dancing? Or, for that matter, most high-profile politicians? Yes, Obama is likely a good dancer and Ed Balls proved himself very capable. But Trump? Or Starmer? Sir Keir would be too reserved to let go while the Ugliest American so self-conscious that people might (would) laugh at his ungainly self he would refuse to set foot on the dance floor.
Admittedly, watching John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, or Michael Jackson at his peak, or Gene Kelly (or any of the great dancers), can make an average, ungainly bloke feel inferior and thus unable to dance. But that’s like not having a whack around on a tennis court cos you can’t serve like Federer. Thing is, there’s no rule for dancing, you just have to feel the music and the spontaneous joy that combusts in your brain and limbs – this is why kids have so much fun dancing, its pure expression and pleasure to them, not about being ‘good’. And live music is the most alchemical, the way the musicians listen to one another, interact, come together to create a fluid, invisible mix that grabs attention and makes you feel like moving your body is wonderful.
Here’s Errol and band playing up a storm in Holland. If you are new to Errol, well, this should give you a taste of his Brixton blues.
There’s something intimate and beautifully expressive in playing music – which is why, I guess, we often put musicians on pedestals, they are sorcerers of sound – the breath that goes into wind instruments, the touch that goes into playing the piano or guitar or drums… as someone who has no religious beliefs there’s a transcendent quality in music (well, the music I like - the stuff I don’t is painful). I’m trying not to fall into new age bromides here but – quite simply - my soul responds to music (especially live music).
And this is surely true for many people, whether able bodied or disabled. My pal Jon is paralysed down his left side due to a severe stroke, but he continues to go out to hear music and, when the spirit takes him, gets out on the dance floor: leaning on his walking stick he shakes and shimmies and laughs with the very pleasure of dancing.
Then there’s that famous footage shot at a festival in France (I think) where rap rockers Prophets Of Rage are working the crowd into a heaving mass and a guy in a wheelchair is passed on the hands of punters towards the stage, he’s wheelchair crowd surfing! Furiously rocking! Loving it even though he’s at risk of falling any second! Even if he fell I’m sure he would have said it was worth it, just for the thrill of dancing (or wheelchair moshing?) to that huge, raucous sound.
Happy trails: the author and Kiwi pals Trudi, Sam and Adi at the Effra.
I didn’t get to ask the names of the two dancers – they left before Errol finished his second set – so I hope they’re cool with my posting their photo. They certainly looked to be enjoying themselves. I’ve taken innumerable friends and pretty much every serious girlfriend of the past 28 years to see Errol and all have enjoyed the experience - some have gone on to book Errol for festivals, parties, weddings and art exhibitions. He is, really, a magician and people fall under the sonic spells he casts.
Thinking about it, Errol Linton, Brixton born and bred and leader of one of the world’s finest live bands, is a humble man who has made it his life’s mission to create enjoyment, to share pleasure. His musical genre may be blues but, for the most part, its happy blues (“good time music” says Errol as he introduces a song), music that embraces everyone and spreads joy. And Errol and band put every fibre of their beings into making these magical sounds.
Actually, on this Wednesday night the double bassist and guitarist were dep’s and, by bringing new skills to the band, they pushed Linton’s sound out further, making it tauter, more fluid than usual, ensuring drummer Gary and pianist Pete stretched, dropping in jazz funk licks at one point, and helping transform what’s always excellent into absolutely exceptional. My guests that night, 3 Kiwis and one native Londoner, are all musicians/or work in the music industry and they were stunned at how good Errol’s band were: a world class outfit playing in a Brixton neighbourhood pub. Nice.
Writing that sets off another tangent: the survival of local venues like the Effra Tavern’s is what we need to ensure - London’s music and community spaces serve as the city’s lungs, places where creativity and joy go hand-in-hand, raucous hothouses for the city’s breathing, singing, dancing soul flowers. I first saw Errol play at the Station Tavern in Ladbroke Grove in 1996, that once venerable blues pub is long gone and what’s replaced it? Gastro pubs, cocktail bars and chic cafes. Boutique London may be chic but its not creative and certainly the opposite of the London I live in and love.
This Effra Tavern concert was the first since Errol launched his new album Break The Seal (Brass Dog) in late May. It is, to my ears, his best album yet – eight originals and two re-workings of old blues, all fresh and dynamic. Errol’s never had it easy – he’s been a professional musician for 30+ years now and, for the first two decades, had to supplement his earnings by busking in the subway. I used to sometimes hear him as I changed trains, that fabulously silvery harmonica sound echoing and resonating in the passages while people walked by, a siren song calling my name. Now at least Errol makes his living by gigging. They’re not famous so earn a minimum wage but, as the saying goes, it sure beats working. That said, being a professional musician is hard work. But at least its work where they get to play - and this band love to play. And that love shone through on a blustery June evening.
Country Girl, the song I mentioned motivated the two women to dance, features on Break The Seal. Its my song of the summer. So far there’s no clip of it on Youtube and Break The Seal is not yet on streaming services – while this is frustrating its understandable, Errol has to do everything (management, booking, promo – he’s never had the music industry backing him) so, for now, is just selling his new album on CD at concerts. Hopefully he gets Break The Seal onto Spotify etc soon so my readers can have a listen. Obviously, if you do get to see Errol perform (and enjoy) then buy an album off him. Or a painting (he paints striking portraits of jazz, blues and reggae artists). If you do get to hear Country Girl I think it might also be your summer song. You might just feel like dancing.
Here’s a short doc’ on Errol from 1993. I met Errol in ‘96 so this is before we were in contact but, even back then, Linton had his own sound and style. He’s a Brixton original.