Colin Reid is so far out of the frame that it takes a while to understand the concept. He s a virtuoso guitarist, from Belfast, who doesn t care for guitar music. He s been compared to many of the star players who rattled the acoustic scene in the mid- 60s (Bert Jansch, John Renbourne, Davy Graham), but claims to know little about said musicians. His modest manner runs contrary to the ongoing enthusiasm about the guy in the UK media.
My journalist pal Colin Harper (a big champion of Reid) has already noted that while everyone s eyes are on the young noisemakers and chord-bashers of Ulster, one of the best local talents is actually working in a very different area. So while masses of band energy is being spent elsewhere on getting Radio 1 airplay and coverage in the indie papers, Reid is coming in crossfield, supporting John Cale at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall and scoring rave reviews by respected writers like The Guardian s Robin Denselow. Bert Jansch, normally a taciturn man, has noted that Colin reminds me of myself and John Renbourne fused together . Meantime, there s a strong chance that by the time you read this, Colin will have recorded a spot for Later With Jools Holland. Five years ago, he was a keen rock and roll guitarist who took his trade to the Musicians Institute in London, studying with a bunch of wannabe session players. He wanted to learn technique, to find the names of the tricks he was instinctively picking up. At the end of the course, Colin sighs, I could play the electric guitar stupidly fast. Which I didn t have any interest in doing.
Then, with a peculiar bit of serendipity, he came across an obscure acoustic album by a Frenchman, Marcel Dadi. The guy had made a bit of a name for himself in Nashville, associated with Chet Atkins. He was playing American rags and baroque, jazzy stuff. Colin, now back in Belfast, bought himself a cheap acoustic from Argos, and tried to get to grips with the technique. Since many of his friends were in London and Australia, he was in a lonesome, nae mates situation, offering him plenty of time to pore over obscure French tabulature, cracking the codes one by one.
When I first heard it, I had no conception that one man could sit and make that noise on a guitar by himself. And I wanted to get away from technology I thought I was hiding behind it.
Next step was writing original songs, using his new-found skills. To Colin s surprise, he managed rather well. In the old days, he d be throwing chord shapes for a singer, working around those limitations, but now he was simply dealing with the expressive power of fingers on strings. Each tune had an individual colour, many of them related to high times and sad experiences in his life.
You can hear the results on his self-titled debut album, which has just been shortlisted in the Belfast Arts Awards. Many tracks are technically cool, but importantly, Colin Reid is also a great soul album. In this respect, it s a near relative of The Lonesome Touch by Martyn Hayes and Dennis Cahill, which Colin admires. The delicate tones, the evocations of loss, love and happiness are all quietly served. Plus, there s a closing tune, Black And White Rag which will be instantly recognisable to anyone who ever copped the opening titles to the snooker show, Pot Black. The scamp.
He recorded much of the record on the Shetland Isles, a place he has visited several times. He talks about the annual folk festival with a mixture of fear and reverence, adding that it takes a good ten days to recover. One consolation is that practically all the islanders turn up to wave you goodbye when you re sailing home again.
Colin says that his current musical faves are Jeff Buckley, Radiohead and Beethoven. However, he did get the chance to tour with Bert Jansch.
It was tremendous, Colin insists. He s an acknowledged genius. It was good to hang out with him and see how he presents himself and how he plays. I can be quite meticulous when I play, but he s really fluid, and also in terms of seeing what audience was out there. There s definitely a market for it.
Evidently so. Colin s mid-term ambition is to leave the pub venues behind, which aren t ideal for his art. Beyond that, he seems happy to enjoy his gig and let the drift take him wherever. It s been good to him thus far. n