Harp's delight

Ah! The harp! (Or ‘harpsichord’ for those who prefer its full moniker.) Such a delightful instrument, very much like the guts of a mighty piano hoicked up on its side and painted gold! So many strings, so few fingers!

Those were my merry thoughts as I made my way to the Royal Albert Hall this Friday last, anticipating being entertained by the heavy, heavy sounds of one Ms Joanna Newsom.

And what a night it was! Totally ruined by a prancing percussionist who persisted in barefoot shenanigans while refusing to shed his sweat-soaked corduroy jacket. He even surpassed those fools in the crowd who vented cries of adoration and love for the harpist; the price of the drinks and the bar shutting midway through the event; and the Moore Brothers, officially The Two Wettest Men on The Planet TM. They would be far better named as the Less Brothers.

Ms Newsom gave song to many lengthy and delicate verses about the fate of the monkey, the bear, and seeds and nuts of many varieties.

A complete washout, redeemed only in that the venue’s seats swivel a little either way and I was able to indulge my passion for seated motion throughout the course of the evening.