Adrian Cox (clarinet, vocals); Dave Archer (guitar); Ferg Ireland (double bass); Miss Baby Sol (vocals)
Smithfield Market isn't the kind of place you'd associate with a music venue. East Poultry Avenue, in the heart of London's meat market, with its cold store environment, forklift trucks and articulated lorries offloading consignments more or less 24/7, is home to Oriole. A cocktails-led basement venue, it is as discreet as they come. A nondescript doorway (it could be mistaken as the gaffer's office, perhaps the canteen) leads, via a flight of stairs, to a subterranean speakeasy offering cocktails and, well, cocktails.
Descending the stairs, the hubbub became louder, then louder still. The joint was jumpin'! In town tonight...Mr Adrian Cox! Our clarinet virtuoso leads something of an itinerant lifestyle, seemingly the man is never at home! This evening Cox made a return visit to Oriole in the company of Dave Archer and Ferg Ireland with guest vocalist Miss Baby Sol. The trio kicked off with Rose Room. Many in the capacity audience indulged in typical speakeasy activities, not least a propensity to all but ignore the musicians on stage!
'Deed I Do, Sunny with vocals by the effervescent, irrepressible Miss Baby Sol, all of a sudden the chattering hordes turned an ear to the music! An upbeat (inappropriate?) take on God Bless the Child, whatever the gyrating Baby Sol sang and danced to, Oriole's patrons were loving it!
Cox himself is a show-stopping entertainer, a marvellous clarinet player with equally impressive vocals. The boys in the engine room never flagged, guitarist Dave Archer flying on Just You, Just Me, bassist Ferg Ireland holding it all together. Baby Sol returned to offer an alternative take on Lullaby of Birdland, not one George Shearing would have heard during his lifetime, that's for sure! After a while, the penny dropped...Baby Sol's vocal style is reminiscent of that of the late Eartha Kitt! My Favorite Things got more of the Baby Sol treatment before Cox took charge of the finale, a crowd-pleasing romp through When the Saints Go Marching In. Russell
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