Live Review: Alex Veale

Three chords in to his fourth song, Alex Veale is pulled aside by the event’s organiser. He steps away from the microphone - fingers instinctively still strumming - and he smiles, but he’s probably cussing under his breath and thinking “This would never happen to Dylan” – Jacob, that is, not Bob.

Not that it's any surprise. He’s performing on a stage completely unsuitable for him, in front of a seated audience who are otherwise engaged in conversation across school-hall style tables. They chat obliviously in lowered voices that together emit a terrible, droney background hum.

And this is the stage that for now belongs to Veale – a twenty-something local lad turned out in a shirt, jeans and beat-up converse. He is a kind of indie-folk-rock Knight on this occasion, as he stands against the backdrop of castles, horses and shields which adorn the walls of this middle-of-nowhere Somerset Village Hall.

But he deserves to be taken seriously.

Alex is on his own this time, performing mellow acoustic instead of heavier Indie / Rock with his three-man band The Operation. He’s good at it, too.

His voice is unpolished and pitch-perfect - watching him perform is like stumbling across a guy singing his heart out to an empty room.

‘Course in this case he might as well be. He’s not grabbing the attention of the audience but they are similarly failing to do him justice. It’s a shame, but luckily it’s probably one known to any musician worth his salt.

If you just look and listen for a moment, you’ll be pulled in by the face of a guy whose heart is furrowed in his brows instead of shown off on his sleeve; Veale gives an enticingly introvert performance that manages to steer clear of self-indulgence.

Finally, with one song, the room goes quiet. He hushes the crowd with the opening lines of “She said,” and suddenly it’s as if he’s singing right through you.

People start to take notice and he follows it up with a bashful but brilliant cover of one of The Operation’s heavier songs, which he teasingly introduces as one he chose for the challenge because “it definitely wouldn’t work acoustically…”

And he goes on to win that bet with himself, making it look easy all the time. So why he struggles to flog his EP after the set is a mystery.

The only plausible explanation is that the audience only had eyes for the next act taking to the small-town stage...

Well if that be the case; pray this be the last time that Alex Veale is outshined by three middle-aged men and a banjo.