Stacey Earle's website
Kathleen Haskard's website
also check out promoter Bob Paterson's extensive site:
Bob Paterson's website
Stacey Earle/Kathleen Haskard
The Borderline, London, December 20th, 1998
Back in one of my favourite London venues again. The audience at after eight pm is still sparse. By eight thirty Kathleen Haskard has climbed onto the stage to grab her guitar. The American comes to the microphone to begin a confident set of songs. Small audience or not she plays like she is stood in front of full house. Lasso's the audience with her banter while laying down a moody, engaging handful of songs. Her voice is deep, a hint of jazz, some blues. Her guitar playing she'll admit is rudimentary but that doesn't stop anyone from hearing where the instruments might fit.
What Kathleen Haskard gave was an all round performance. Some humour, a few digs at the 'corporate schemata' of things. 'Stacey and I figured that 12 per cent was not a good deal. OK so we started our own record labels so we could take 100 per cent. Now that's a good deal,' she laughed with a gleam in her eye to knock a record company exec back in his seat. She also thanked the Borderline for providing '24 beers for Stacey and me' courtesy of the house. 'I mean 24 beers, we might be able to drink two a piece, so I've swapped mine for Margheritas,' she grinned. Then she fetched said Margherita from the small table at the back of the stage and proceeded to suck the iced drink through a straw up against the microphone. 'This is the third track on my CD, it's called Slurping,' she gurgled.
On this first listen I took to at least three of Kathleen Haskard's songs. One was called Gallieo. It was about heartbreak. 'Gallieo would have seen it coming' she sang. Jello Mould was a bit of a rocker. I think this was the song that mentioned some of my favourite places like Tucumcari.
For her final song, Kathleen Haskard put her guitar away and asked the audience to help her by snapping their fingers along in time to a samba groove. From Oslo to Holland the songwriter had been teasing the audience by asking if there were any Englishmen in it. Her song concerns the reticent English stereotype lover. Just one of those typecast jokes we let our American cousins like Joan Baez get away with. Ha, send our regards to Elmer and Edwina our favourite check trousered tourists . . .
Kathleen Haskard started the song off with another slurp from the glass of Margherita then started snapping her thumb and fingers and grooving. It reminded me a lot of the salt shaking rhythms on Robyn Hitchcock's Wafflehead.
At the end of the set I took the opportunity to go speak to Mark the camerman for the 12 Bar. He pulled back his coat to reveal his 12 Bar t-shirt by way of saying that he had sneaked off to come to the Borderline tonight. 'I'm going to ask Stacey Earle if she won't mind me filming her set tomorrow night. I know Kathleen won't mind because I've filmed her before but I need to get Stacey's permission.' As we chatted about all the acts I had missed at the 12 Bar Kathleen Haskard was returning to the stage.
Following her on stage was a lady with a mass of blonde hair covering her face. She had a Gibson acoustic slung over around her slight frame. Haskard towered above her. 'You'll have goosebumps by the end of Stacey's set.' The audience gave Stacey Earle a loud welcome. She just beamed, her bright eyes lit up like Christmas tree lights. A big smile broke across her face.
What Stacey Earle played tonight packed more punch than a lot of bands I've seen with a full stack of Marshall amps. Her whole body moved with the songs, she gave every last inch of herself to the audience. The guitar playing just rocked. Simple, effective left handed chords with a right hand that criss crossed patterns up, down and around the sound hole. When she took to knocking a beat between strums on two parts of the guitar for one song I just gasped (I think it was Next Door Down). Her timing was exquisite.
What topped all this off was the voice. What control. Stacey Earle could take it down to a hushed whisper then raise it up so it had as much body as Tennessee sipping whiskey and she swung effortlessly like a back porch fiddle. Then when she wanted to stoke the coals she sang with enough fire to scorch a steak.
Some of the songs I recognise from the CD I copped on my way out last night, Wedding Night, Simple Gearle, Cried My Heart Out, Losers Weep, Next Door Down, Tears That She Cries. Probably damn near all of them in fact. All that stopped her singing all night past the encore of two songs was the place was closing early.
At least a couple of them were songs which she explained 'I resurrected for the tour'. One concerned her brother Steve. It was a song that spoke volumes about a family concern for a wayward son. Some wag from the audience would shout 'Who's he?' but Stacey Earle kept her composure to tell how her family were pleased that Steve Earle had come through. The song stilled the room. Another about a red dress, hard to pick just one song above all the rest but I loved this one. The guitar work on it, Stacey Earle's passion tingled the neck hairs.
Stacey Earle is an independent. Has her own CD released on Gearle records. The setting up of her independent label came after fruitless trips hawking her material to Nashville Record people. They were saying: 'Yeah great songs, but we don't know what to do with you, try next door . . .'
From this time comes a great story of when the songwriter was writing music at a Nashville desk instead of a back porch. As she told it, a woman was doing her best to wreck her days at the office. Getting even meant writing a song and having her type it up. 'It's the best thing you've ever done,' the lady in question exclaims. 'Thanks for yer input,' smiles Stacey Earle dryly.
No surprise to find that Nashville can't fit Stacey Earle into the corporate can of worms. She doesn't deserve to be running from plush office to plush office. We need her on stages like the Borderline with an audience rooting for her as she takes us on a rollercoaster ride of the real stuff. And cop a listen to Stacey Earle's CD if you can, it's damn beautiful.
The goosebumps? I still got 'em.
Mike PlumbleyStacey Earle's website
Kathleen Haskard's website
also check out promoter/radio dj, researcher Bob Paterson's site:
Bob Paterson's website