The majority of Shepherds Bush is overtaken tonight by skinny-jeaned oiks barely in their teens, off to the Empire to worship at the altar of the inexplicably popular Wombats. Yet while bubblegum guitar pop with less impact than a mosquito fart may be enough to placate the young'uns, it is a more discerning crowd that trudge in the opposite direction down the Uxbridge Road. Past numerous meat-selling establishments and rotting roadside veg, our collective avoidance of mediocrity is rewarded upon entry to this luxurious haven.
Chandeliers hang from ornately carved ceilings, a (mercifully covered) grand piano acts as a makeshift drinks table and those nearest the stage are seated around tables and sipping G&Ts. For your intrepid reporter, far more accustomed to wading through ponds of piss and elbowing past the grunting masses for the merest glance of a few talentless, guitar-toting pricks, Bush Hall represents gigging utopia.
With a glamour and grace befitting such an oasis, Stephanie Dosen takes the stage, and with a dimpled smile here and a coy greeting there, we are off. Within a single verse the Bella Union girl's devastatingly gorgeous voice is enough to ensure every man, woman and child take their rightful place in the palm of her hand. Whether swelling to a level of a fists-in-the-air stadium ballad, or eerily half-whispered tones, her voice stays glued to the melody and makes for an extremely addictive aural experience.
Stephanie proves herself as quite the raconteur between songs as well, as tales of collaborating with Jose Gonzales, parental embarrassment and the perils of wearing high heels onstage ostensibly covering up excessive guitar tuning. It is clichéd and crass to mention her angelic aesthetic qualities, and to Dosen’s credit, she could be performing behind an opaque curtain and the effect would be the same. Her off-kilter ballads and THAT voice are more than enough to win over everyone in attendance tonight.
In an age when Nash, Allen and Adele peddle reheated musical ideas with huge success, it is refreshing to hear a songstress drawing from such an original palette. If only the identikit NME-gobbling brigade down the road would prick up their ears, then our musical landscape would be a much nicer place.
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