Birds of Hell @ Eaton Park Cafe

What happens in Eaton Park after dark? Sinister witchcraft? Covert knitting circles? Actual Dogging (more about that later)? Some heady combination of all three? We just don’t know. Last night I got the chance to find out when I was witness to an intimate Golden-Triangle-heavy gig in the park. At night. I grabbed my shaky and unconveniently about-to-run-out-of-battery camcorder, eyed the mysterious stick figures in the trees, donned my bobble hat and wandered uncertainly through the really rather glamorous park to the cafe, lit only by the moon.

Eaton Park Cafe has recently been taken over by the Bicycle Shop, and has been trialling nights of live, local acts over the summer. Not only can you take the opportunity to see some great music in a friendly and welcoming new small venue but also have your dinner at the same time! Your dinner! At a gig! Genius.

Young Lucy Gooch is up first. Ethereal and dreamy, unstructured and unusual, she wields her rich vibrato vocal tones as an instrument, accompanying her own looped guitar. It’s brave and strange, and good to see someone trying something a little different with a voice and a guitar.

Pete Murdoch aka Birds of Hell is our headliner, but as a very special treat his 11 year old son Earl performs three pieces on the piano as Pete sets up. He plays beautifully, tenderly, and with a real maturity. I find out afterwards he has taught himself from YouTube. Unfuckingbelievable. Don’t stop now Earl, you’ve only just begun.

Birds of Hell is one of my very favourite Norwich acts. I’ve probably seen him perform four times already this year in a variety of different venues, both solo and with a band. Tonight I sat about three feet away from the man as he sang and played 12 tracks for our evening delight - and this is perhaps the most symbiotic environment I’ve ever seen him in. The performance area is made to look like a living room, and his ability to create a relaxed, open and heartfelt ambience at his gigs seems to come even more naturally tonight.

His voice is like croaky velvet and his range impressive, sometimes as heavy and thunderous as Johnny Cash, sometimes warbling like a young songbird. The layering of pre-recorded sounds really boosts his solo performance and is effortless - no scrabbling around on the floor, fighting with pedals or distractions from the music itself. He’s always well prepared and makes it all look so easy.

A song written for children called Just One More is a rootsy tune about adding and subtracting. Practice Punching My Hands Son offers advice to his son about bullies. Hometown Rage centres in on growing up and cutting loose from his childhood environment, featuring a recording of his grandmother singing who died in the ‘40's. Letting Go Of Clint Eastwood describes the purity and innocence of his young daughter’s thoughts and concepts. Dogs, about the aforementioned dogging, includes a recording of piano and violin duets played by his grandad and a friend, alongside natural sounds from Mousehold Heath. These songs are always imbued with a huge emotional gravitas when I’ve seen them before, but tonight they really hit home. With Pete’s whole family sitting close to him in the audience whilst he sings such tender and loving songs about his deepest feelings, their shared histories, and his hopes and dreams for them it’s almost unbearably moving at times. I feel like it’s almost too intimate, that I am eavesdropping on the most personal of feels. But Pete’s laidback, funny and personable ways with the crowd makes us all feel included. His cover of the classic Wayfaring Stranger is a winner, Our Beautiful Boys, played on the piano and dedicated to Nick Cave after the tragic death of his son last year has never sounded more solemn. Boa is a cyclic, sinister, mesmorising rasp which slides under your skin and slithers around evilly. The set ends with the jaunty I Love Saturday Night, and we even get an encore, Let's Have The Windows Open, a Sleaford Mods style rant stream of consciousness that includes some biting Trump-themed comments this evening. There was an Astronomy Programmes-shaped hole in the set for me tonight, my favourite of his tracks, but impossible to play without a band, so he's forgiven.

Birds of Hell is consistently bloody great; thoughtful, considered, intelligent and beautifully crafted, embracing innovative techniques and the most heart I’ve ever heard in a local act. Catch him playing in Norwich whenever and wherever you’re able to.

PS I got home safe, thanks, although I did spot some odd animal masks in the shadows on the way back..