Concert review Jackie Leven at Borders Bookshop, Oxford Street, London

Gavin Martin reviews, for Uncut, a solo in-store performance by Jackie Leven at Borders bookshop on London's Oxford Street on 5 October 2001. The “big denim-clad man” looks at home among the shelves in front of a generation-spanning audience, Martin writes: in three decades on the troubadour trail Leven has drawn deep inspiration from the written word, from German literature to detective fiction. His well-documented hard times, addiction and past commercial failure, Martin adds, have strengthened his resolve and fed his creativity, and the “stupendous” new album Creatures of Light and Darkness is further proof of his standing as the most naturalistic and profound blues artist operating in these islands.

The in-person solo Leven is a different proposition from the warm arrangements on his records, Martin says. His attitude is irreverent, casual and offhand, and contrasts with the wounded but loving solemnity at the heart of his songs. Leven opens by saying he almost forgot to come to London, having just got back from northern Russia. Then he asserts his authority and his link to British folk blues with a cascade of crystalline finger-picking and long sustained notes that fill the room during “Universal Blue”.

False modesty is not in Leven's remit. He has to grab a copy of his latest CD from the shelf to refresh his memory, and is immediately gratified by what he finds. The evidence follows: “Exit Wound”, with an extraordinary vocal that veers between fractured staccato and agonised rumble; the Robert Frost-inspired “Stopped By Woods”, pitched between warm invitation and dark forewarning; and best of all the semi-comic “Billy Ate My Pocket”, about a horse that becomes a detective – not in the police force, which Leven calls silly, but a private detective specialising in adultery.

Between songs Leven's talk ranges from literary reminiscence through outrageous claims about the origin of an esteemed organ to a gruesome excursion into bowel matters aboard a ferry crossing the Barents Sea. No Leven performance is complete without such a stomach-churning tale, Martin notes, but he is no fool: he knows the ugly story only highlights the beauty of the music. The verdict is warmly positive throughout.