(Review by Lance)
"Do you speak English?" enquired the lady. I admitted that I was au fait with the language (some might disagree!) She asked what I was writing about - I gave her a BSH card. She then said her friend had a bad back and needed a seat. I didn't have a sympathetic ear which was just as well as, before the night was over, her friend was dancing like a dervish. A cure comparable with some of JC's minor miracles (not our JC but the other one).
Mind you, such was the hypnotic charisma of Ms. Shaw that there were few people who weren't dancing. I even shook the odd limb myself until I got stilletoed.
Motown, Northern Soul, call it what you will, the lady from Manchester was supreme and I use the word intentionally as, with her two backing singers adding the harmonies, the end product came straight from the motor city and I don't mean Dagenham.
With a powerhouse band behind her, the Hoochie faithful applauded and sang along with the hits. I didn't recognise any of the players apart from Rod Mason on tenor and baritone. The ex Voice of the North Jazz Orchestra saxist was the only one who soloed at any length. The trombone player may have been Chris Hibbard and I think the guitarist, or was it the drummer? may have been name-checked as John Haynes.
I hung on to almost the very end - Jimmy Mack and You Got a Friend - as the audience demanded, and no doubt got, more.
The lady I'd spoken to earlier was outside doing untold damage to her lungs (inside,
I'd been doing similar damage to my liver). She informed me she was 'from The Boro' although her accent suggested Edinburgh rather than Middlesbrough. She'd enjoyed the show and so had I.
Lance.
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