MAGNET Live Review: Bill Janovitz

“You alright, mate?” inquires one of two largish thugs. “Huh?” comes my befuddled reply. “Need any hash? Weed?” asks thug number two. “Uh, no thanks,” I mutter, quickening my pace. “Several pints of Guinness will do nicely,” I think to myself. It’s Monday night and the normally bustling, bohemian, Camden district of London is eerily quiet. Only a few junkies, dealers and general crazies populate the streets tonight.

I trudge down a dark alley abutting a canal with growing apprehension, envisioning my corpse floating in said canal with throat slit. Finally, after a few more twists and turns, tonight’s venue, Dingwalls, appears like a beacon at the end of a dimly lit courtyard. Most assuredly, tonight’s act, Bill Janovitz, will prove well worth the journey.

The “special guest,” unfortunately, will not. Singer/songwriter Stephen Hero (a.k.a. Patrick Fitzgerald, ex-Kitchens Of Distinction bassist/vocalist) takes the stage first to deliver a set that is alternately excruciating and unintentionally hilarious. With plugged-in acoustic guitar and keyboard, the Billy Bragg doppelganger delivers lines like “you’re my beautiful friend, you’re my conspiracy of love” without a trace of irony. Worse still, he offers these Hallmark sentiments in an anemic, painfully earnest voice. Although a group of balding 40-somethings in the crowd stands rapt, I sit guzzling my pint and stifling an overwhelming urge to flee. Mercifully, this opening performance is brief.

After minimal set-up, Bill Janovitz, budding solo artist and Buffalo Tom frontman, appears on stage armed only with his acoustic guitar and a can of Stella Artois. Launching immediately into “Mineral” from Buffalo Tom’s Let Me Come Over, the diminutive musician plays with visible urgency, stomping his foot to a metronome audible only in his head. “You’re so green,” Janovitz almost pleads during the chorus, his substantial voice a startling and welcome counterpoint to Fitzgerald’s reedy pipes.

Following an enthusiastic cheer from the audience, Janovitz then dips into his second solo effort, Up Here, for the subdued “Atlantic.” This sequencing will typify the evening, with the singer drawing equally from the Buffalo Tom catalog and his latest solo material.

Affable and clearly at ease throughout, Janovitz jokes and banters with the audience between songs, offering to trade his Stella for a Guinness, cheekily lauding the Patriots’ AFC championship win to a clearly uninterested English crowd (a segue this Pittsburgh resident appreciated none too much) and congratulating those assembled for singing along “better than those Belgians last night” on Up Here’s “Goodnight, Wherever You Are.” Also notable is Janovitz’s announcement that Buffalo Tom are still a going concern. “Not that we give a shit,” he jokes about the band’s active status. “You probably could tell that from our last record, though.” Appropriately, this comment comes after his solo rendition of “Scottish Windows” from Buffalo Tom’s most recent effort, Smitten.

Overall, Up Here selections dominate the solo material (Janovitz only plays one track from 1997’s Lonesome Billy) and include the heartfelt “Like You Do,” a soaring “Like Shadows” and a dedication to his newborn daughter, “Light In December.” A Ray Charles cover is even thrown in (it works, surprisingly) before Janovitz closes with the sweetly melancholy “I’m Allowed” from BT’s 1993 breakthrough, Soda Jerk.

A quick trip to the loo before the encore proves ill-timed, as I, along with my fellow patrons of Armitage Shanks, issue a collective groan at hearing (and missing) the opening strains of what is possibly one of Buffalo Tom’s finest songs, “Taillights Fade.” Two songs later, a sweat-drenched Janovitz finally calls it quits. As he stands stage right to press the flesh with the fans and peddle CDs, I briefly consider approaching Janovitz to offer both my praise for a stunning performance and my disdain for his misguided football loyalties. After seeing the queue stretching to the back of the venue, however, I disappointedly head for the bar.