Lior, j'adore

I went to a gig on Monday night at Dingwall's, a tiny venue on Camden Lock. I am ashamed to report that I only just heard of Lior last week - a massive oversight on my part. A quick listen to a few of his tracks on my colleague's ipod was enough for me to fall instantly in love with his music and to be persuaded to buy a ticket for his show.

It was that nice, intimate kind of gig where there is room to sit on the floor and you are only metres away from the artist. The crowd was mostly (possibly entirely) Australian, which meant that 1. everyone seemed to radiate youth and good health; and 2. there were only a couple of wanker-poseurs smoking, as opposed to the typical British audience which is made up of people who can't fully appreciate a gig unless they are inhaling a box-full of Mayfairs.

But Lior... Lior was divine. I haven't seen a performance given with such feeling since I saw Ben Harper. His beautiful, mystical ballads with a ribbon of Eastern influence running through them (he was born in Israel and moved to Australia at age 10) were such a treat to listen to. It was just him, his various guitars, and a girl on cello for most of the night - but for the encore he came out and performed a cappella the jewish prayer for atonement. It was spell-binding. Despite not understanding a word of Hebrew, the depth of feeling was apparent in Lior's gorgeous voice, pouring out of the speakers and into the heart of every person in the room.

I am currently waiting impatiently for Amazon to dispatch the album to me.