Tommy Reilly plays Perth concert

Sep 29 2009 by Andrew Welsh, Perthshire Advertiser Tuesday

BROADCAST talent shows have escalated as rapidly in recent years as the viruses in so many zombie movies.

This has represented good news for the hordes of acts across every imaginable musical genre who want to make themselves heard before a national or international audience, but sadly at an inevitable cost to listeners seeking out a hint of risk-taking adventure.

In the wake of such a creative apocalypse, this year’s Orange Unsigned Act on Channel 4 ventured into previously uncharted territory by deciding to promote a crop of unusually imaginative hopefuls.

King among these was the ultra-shy Tommy Reilly, winner of the series’ first prize record deal after impressing with his raw acoustic outpourings.

This Perth gig was part of a tour the Scot has undertaken to promote his debut album, recorded with former Suede guitarist Bernard Butler at the helm.

Bidding to prove her own worth was fellow tartan troubadour Katie Sutherland, frontwoman with Pearl & The Puppets, who played a support set with just a box drum player called Blair for company.

Yet, while the singer / guitarist’s impeccably delivered self-penned numbers were well-received by the smallish, teenage-dominated audience huddled in front of the stage, you got the feeling she could do more.

With her chilled nasal purr, for the most part Pearl’s vocals came over, if this is conceivable, like a Scottish version of Kate Nash.

On painfully few occasions did she attempt to hit the notes she’s spectacularly capable of, like she’s a younger Dolores O’Riordon.

Although attractive Pearl / Katie didn’t say much between her rather mushy songs, bar revealing a crush on one of Reilly’s sound crew, her stage presence was obvious.

Her downbeat reworking of Kings Of Leon’s Use Somebody earned plaudits but the good work was undone, partially at least, by a closing track that was disastrously interrupted by a loss of power to her guitar and way too many “doo, doo, doo, doos” instead of proper lyrics.

While Pearl erred on the side of caution, the same cannot be said about Reilly.

The dishevelled, grinning ball of fun took to the stage with a guitarist resembling a younger version of Biffy Clyro’s Simon Neil, with the beard and high-slung axe to go, and a boy drummer with a girly hairstyle who fairly pounded the skins.

Repeatedly declaring his joy, the guitar-toting troubadour blasted through songs from Words On The Floor with commitment and energy that was far from safe.

Whether he’d had a few beforehand I don’t know, but his unique wail was as startling as on record, with the likes of Grab Me By The Collar and Jackets going down a storm.

Gloriously messy, and as raw as his TV turns had suggested, the set peaked with his lovelorn signature tune Gimme A Call.

In a telling encore moment, as Reilly moved forward to take on keyboards for a cover of The Killers’ Mr Brightside he was almost hauled into the crowd as a forest of arms reached up to lay on hands.

With the perma-smile still broad across his face, a pint pot and the last of its contents bounced off his black-and-whites and into his midriff.

It was all the young star could do to laugh uncontrollably and everybody laughed along. That summed up an evening with not-so-steely Tommy perfectly.