Jon Gomm - Bush Hall, London 27/11/2021

Bush Hall is a bit of a favourite with team RGM.  And, after nearly two years away, for us it feels quite a lot like coming home.  Temporarily forgotten but so instantly familiar.  The mirrored, decoratively stuccoed arches that flank the room are right where we left them and the red velvet chairs are lined in rows, which means this is going to be a civilised one.  The winds of storm Arwen are still rushing and it’s bitterly cold outside, but the fearless faithful have braved the elements and are duly assembled, respectfully expectant. 

We’re here to see the guitar mastery – no, witchcraft – of Jon Gomm, who’s belatedly touring his latest album, The Faintest Idea, at which were all agog in our October 2020 review.  Long loved among the geeks as one of the UK’s most accomplished fingerstyle virtuosos, Gomm is possibly best known for his 2011 single ‘Passionflower’, which he confesses is an unlikely hit: “it starts with a solo, it’s seven minutes long and it’s about a plant,” he quips.  Against these odds, it’s racked up eighteen million YouTube views. 

I’m convinced the mic stand is set too high, initially, but as Mr Gomm appears onstage, guitar in case, it transpires that, even barefoot, he really is that tall.  The astonishing in-flight tuning of ‘Cocoon’ opens the set spotlessly, after which gaffer tape is requested to patch up a cut on the guitarist’s left hand.  Unfazed, Gomm launches into what he describes as his ‘emergency disco song’ - his jaw-on-the-floor instrumental cover of Rufus & Chaka Khan’s ‘Ain’t Nobody’. 

Throughout the set, Jon Gomm’s between song patter is self-deprecating, wry and completely charming.  It’s good to know that someone who has made an art form out of getting one guitar to sound like an entire band – and can sing tenderly on top – remains so very down-to-earth.  And, as nearly every song requires a retuning, that welcome banter is plentiful.  And despite the utter madness of such a show being performed using just one guitar – his signature Ibanez – nothing is even a hair out of tune all evening. 

Gomm promises that the epic ‘Everything’ will be “a challenging listen” but for anyone in danger of flagging, fun can be had in spotting the Hot Chocolate and Kate Bush musical quotes that are thrown in.  After the delightful ‘Gloria’ (from 2009’s Don’t Panic LP) we’re treated to an entertaining crash course in guitar percussion before being served the breathtaking instrumental ‘The Ghost Inside You’, one of the standout tracks from the current record.  Set against the knowledge that it was written in the aftermath of Gomm and his partner suffering a miscarriage; it’s the set’s most emotionally powerful piece, though not a single word is sung. 

The two-hour set finds a place for almost everything else you could wish for.  There’s a measured yet impassioned political rant announcing ‘The Weather Machine’; there’s a fun cover of Erasure’s ‘A Little Respect’, because, well, because; there’s a warning that nature documentaries should not be viewed by the emotionally fragile preceding ‘Deep Sea Fishes’, and, finally, there’s an opportunity for us to join together in song against the evils of TV talent shows during ‘Dream Factories’. 

Encore-wise, we have the aforementioned ‘Passionflower’ of course but the evening’s final lump-in-throat moment comes as Gomm climbs down from the stage for a totally unplugged rendition of the poignant ‘Song For a Rainy Day’.  And that is the real takeaway from tonight.  While Jon Gomm may play guitar like some machine created and controlled by a mad inventor, there’s a huge human heart running through the music.  His emotional openness on this evening in particular is as inspiring as his technical prowess: the universal anxieties of pandemics, parenthood and politics course through the songs and why shouldn’t they, just because he’s a guitar god?  All the flash and splash of the playing isn’t at the expense of any depth.  For Jon Gomm, these things simply go hand in hand. 

With a joke about Gomm’s “extremely thin daughter” we’re implored to visit the merch stand on our exit, and we oblige.  It’s the absolute least we can do.  People glibly throw out terms like ‘genius’ and ‘national treasure’ – and arguably both are applicable to an artist like Jon Gomm – but the fact is that we are so incredibly lucky to have musicians of any persuasion who are as dedicated to their craft as he is.  As live music comes back from its enforced pause, and performers and audiences begin to return to their forgotten homes, that’s a thought worth holding on to. 

Review by Rich Barnard