If you’ve ever wondered what a real life “hard core troubadour” looked and sounded like then I’d recommend a trip to a Nathan Bell show. After a shot at fame in the 80s, Bell only returned to recording after a 30 year hiatus, working and raising a family. When his job went belly up a decade or so ago he picked up his guitar again and has since released a series of albums which sink their teeth into the American jugular.
Bell first appeared in Glasgow back in 2017, playing at Celtic Connections. Since then he’s returned numerous times and, while he has become a popular attraction throughout the UK gig circuit, he seems to have developed a special relationship with the city and its audiences. I expect a lot of places might want to claim a “special relationship” but Bell knows his Glasgow lore, its myths and legends and its football lore. That said, he’s incredibly well informed about UK culture overall (the good and the bad), so much so I reckon he should just move on over here.
Anyhow, Bell’s latest appearance here was on the last day of the Glasgow Americana Festival, the annual festival organised by The Fallen Angels club, at a sold out appearance at The Glad Café on the south side. With a new album to promote (Demokracy Blues, a coruscating take on the current state of the union) Bell forsake the electric blues of the disc, appearing solo but still able to deliver his message. In case that sounds somewhat forbidding, Bell was on top form, able to summon fear and fury at times but leavening this with his hugely entertaining stories and asides. He leaned heavily on recent songs from Demokracy Blues and its predecessor, Red, White And American Blues (It Couldn’t Happen Here) while also delivering some favourites from the back catalogue. There was folk, blues and much more in here.
He opened with the wide vista of Black Crow Blue, a song from his first album from 2011, essentially setting out his credentials with his perfect finger picking, his wailsome harmonica and honest American voice, a true troubadour indeed. It was then on to the new album for a song which pitched itself against the recent crop of so called Americana bands who think that wearing old dungarees and shucking on corn qualifies them, bands who might call themselves something such as Amish Mystics. Here he skewers them. From the album Red, White And American Blues (It Couldn’t Happen Here) there was a devastating delivery of American Blues, its closing refrain of “Burn Baby Burn” reminding us of the hosts of Americans who brought down Nixon – the power of resistance. From the same album Bell dived into the legend of one of his heroes, Lightin’ Hopkins on a great delivery of Retread Cadillac while there was more acoustic blues on the lively New Cocaine Blues. The latest album leans heavily on electric Chicago blues but he easily managed to deliver a stripped down acoustic delivery of Downhearted And Blue which carried as much emotional heft. There were a couple of new songs played and some from the past with Bell declaring “this is my most requested song” before playing a spellbinding I Don’t Do This For Love, I Do This For Love.
As the set end loomed into sight Bell sang the closing number from the new album, You Say Nothing. It’s a stomping blues number, somewhat akin to John Lee Hooker in an evil mood and Bell stomped the notes from his guitar while wailing the title refrain, an electrifying performance. The crowd raved and Bell gave us another couple of songs in lieu of an encore, no point in walking off and back on again really. First off was his instrumental, Hot Tub Shark (finally available on disc folks), really an excuse for Bell to show off his guitar skills and if you want to know why he called it that then you need to go see him live although we can say that after playing it he likened it to the silly tunes which accompanied the late comedian Benny Hill’s skits. Another example of Bell’s encyclopaedic knowledge of UK pop culture. The last song brought everyone back to earth as Bell sang A Lucky Man, part travelogue, part farewell to lost family, friends and even pets. It’s a humbling experience to hear such a song played live and in such a perfect fashion as happened here and the audience responded with fulsome applause. As we said at the beginning, Bell is a true troubadour who can pull at your heartstrings one moment and have you creased with laughter the next. We need to treasure artists like this.
The support act was a local singer songwriter Scott Ashworth who set the scene with a short set of impressive songs. Like Bell, Ashworth delves into blues and folk and The Devil Don’t Deserve Me, his take on the Robert Johnson crossroads legend, was an early highlight. The Ghost, from Ashworth’s album Ghosts And Broken Men is a spooky meditation on the musician’s lot of lonely travels and travails. Ashworth regularly releases singles for charitable causes and played his latest, Little Did I Know, sales of which will benefit dementia charities. He ended with a song, The Letter, he had written for Combat Stress (a charity to support military veterans’ mental health). With its John Prine like storyline it was a fine end to a fine little set.