Lewis Watson brought a healthy dose of English folk-pop charm to Denver on Monday, May 8, with songs capable of impressing more than just the teenage girls that filled the room.
Watson played a solo show at Denver’s Larimer Lounge last Monday as part of a tour to support his latest album, “midnight.” Due to the small size of the venue and his purely acoustic set, everything about the evening was understated and intimate, which allowed the subtle appeal of his music to shine through.
The crowd, bunched up around the stage and taking up about three-quarters of the Larimer’s space, was mostly young, ecstatic and female. The opening act was an unfortunately bland set from local songwriter Ian Mahan, who demonstrated a lot of potential with his vocals and stage presence but was held back by his lyrics.
When Watson shyly sauntered out with his guitar though, the crowd went wild with anticipation. His set was only an hour long, but was filled with old, new and “mostly sad” songs, nearly all of which contained a memorable lyric, hook or guitar riff and clearly had an emotional impact on most of the audience.
For those unfamiliar, Watson is a 24-year-old acoustic guitar-wielding singer-songwriter from London in the vein of Ben Howard or Damien Rice, just on the cusp of breaking into the mainstream. If you must, you could think of a more introspective Ed Sheeran, minus the influences of hip-hop and fame.
His nearly-well-known status was made apparent by an admission Watson made after one of his first songs: he was only playing solo because he legitimately couldn’t afford his usual backing band. The shockingly transparent statement was met with laughter and was indicative of his coy, humble stage presence that lent a warm, friendly air to the show.
In between songs, Watson, complete with his baggy “In-N-Out” t-shirt, engaged in delightful self-deprecating banter, remarking, “that one’s about being sad,” “It’s better with the whole band” or “This is a happy sounding sad song.”
Self-consciousness aside, Watson didn’t even need a backing band. The emotional weight of his songs was strong enough to stand on their own, and his individual talent was allowed to be on full display.
His songwriting style was mature, earnest and especially impressive to a reviewer who is an admitted cynic about pop singer-songwriters. One could hear a genuine passion in both his lyrics and his delivery of them—it was personal but not melodramatic.
In addition to his sheer vocal chops, his unique chord voicings, subtle movements towards and away from the mic and haunting stop-on-a-dime endings showcased a care for his craft that proved his potential.
In fact, several of his songs (“Stones Around the Sun” chief among them) sounded better than the full band studio versions when backed by just his booming, bassy guitar. In the case of “Sink or Swim,” he was also able to fill out the song with the sound of the entire crowd belting every word, capitalizing on the advantage of having a small but devoted fanbase.
The highlight of the fun, cozy show came during Watson’s unique cover of the Guillemot’s “Made-Up-Love-Song #43.” Prior to officially starting the song, he hopped into the crowd, divided it in two and taught each half a different vocal part. This so-called “Colorado choir” continued underneath the entire song as Watson rotated around and sang beautifully about “poetry in an empty Coke can.”
Though he might not yet have much commercial or critical recognition, Watson’s endearing live show proved that his music is worthy of it. His remaining tour dates can be found on his website.
