He starts with a, “Howayiz! I’m Gavin James.” Honestly, never have more superfluous words been spoken.
For one, everyone in the venue is doing just fine, judging by the arbitrary whoops they’ve been letting out with each premature rustle of the Whelan’s curtain. For two, the 450-strong crowd know very well who 21-year-old song and guitar man Gavin James is. A mere three months after the release of his debut EP, the young Dubliner is well on his way to becoming a household name and most of these fans have begged, borrowed or gotten up at 7am and upgraded their broadband to get a ticket to tonight’s sold-out show.
An experienced alumni of the capital’s pub circuit, James flaunts his vocal heft right away with rolling ballad ‘The Ooh Song’, which includes enough skyscraping money notes to paint him as the male version of Minnie Ripperton. That said, James has more to offer than a range to rival the members of En Vogue; there’s something rough and rugged about his folksy croon, which sounds exquisite as it skips playfully between the upstairs and the downstairs parts of his voice.
Apart from that masterful, cartwheeling growl of his, the most striking thing about this one-man Mumford is what a great swooning romantic he is; radio hits, EP tracks and unreleased material all deal with affairs of the heart. In fact, a language graph of this gig would be completely dominated by the word “heart”, which seems to crop up in every other song. Given that James gleans so much inspiration from being unashamedly head over heels, a line like, ”Oh, Carolina, I’m cynical...” is laced with irony; clearly, there’s nothing cautious or pessimistic about the way this young songwriter approaches love.
James’ part-gentle, part-rowdy acoustic sound is beefed up with keys and cello for most of the show, and for ‘22’, an introspective number about being a victim of bullying, he does the unthinkable and leaves the guitar down (here, too, his dynamite vocals carry him through).
Later, singalong crowd-pleasers like ‘Say Hello’ receive a riotous reception from the audience. An off-mic cover of Eddy Arnold’s ‘You Don’t Know Me’ makes for a truly special moment, while closer ‘Two Hearts’ receives the biggest round of applause, as the Whelan’s massive struggle to keep up with James’ vocal gymnastics.