Smoove &Turrell, Jazz Cafe Camden - June 20th 2015

I've been back from university for a year now, but I am still getting used to not living in London. By the time I left the city for the countryside, I'd been there as a (broke - and not just in the monetary sense) student for three years and was at the point where I was so unhappy that every little thing would annoy me. From the slow walking tourists to the cost of a mere one glass of wine (£6-7 just incase you were wondering), everything made me rack up a little more hatred for the capital and I wanted so badly to go back home at the first possible instance. Fast forward a year, it was inevitable I was going to feel the complete opposite. I've had time to refresh - fall back in love with London, if you will - and now, whenever I get the chance to go, I jump at the chance because, hey, London. And live music. *Good* live music. Smoove & Turrell, in fact.


It all started a couple of days before the Saturday (note: a couple of days prior to a major event in my household is extremely organised and planned, months advance of owning a ticket is so overrated nowadays, anyway) where my pappa (father) started shouting to me from the bottom of the stairs. With scenarios that start out like this, it usually means I've done something wrong, so I followed the usual and necessary precautions prior to responding - as I usually do - which predominantly revolves around planning a backstory explaining why you may think I did it, but I definitely really actually didn't. I could have done it, but you're not gonna know about that any time soon (unless, of course, you bring my mum into the situation who is basically the female - and slightly better - version of Jim Malone - the federal agent in The Untouchables - in case you're uneducated). After all the panic, it turned out I didn't need to plan an other one of my amazing watch-me-get-out-of-trouble-with-this-amazing-story stories, but instead, revel in the excitement that was emanating from my pappa as he proceeded to tell me we were going to London on Saturday June 20th to watch Smoove & Turrell.

Smoove & Turrell hail from Newcastle, UK, and are a 7 piece band (or, in the words of Turrell, "an overweight Geordie and a bunch of knobs") that bring funk, soul, jazz and a fan base that have some seriously incredible - but at some all times questionable - dance moves. When I think about it, it doesn't surprise me that the dancing can be deemed questionable, for their fan base predominantly consists of the slightly older generation. I was introduced to Smoove & Turrell by my parents, which I think explains everything, and I was definitely the youngest (one of the youngest, if not the only) there at the gig. That's okay though, because their music is great, full of soul and each song brings out moves you never knew you had inside of you. These guys need to start getting played on a more commercial platform because the potential younger fan base are missing out on what I class as really good music... You may recognise Beggarman though.


By the time Beggarman came on, I was feeling the effects of the warm air that was sweeping through the Jazz Cafe, so I had to take "time out" from partying it up with my parents at the front of the crowd to sit down and get some cool air near the door. Seeing as this is actually my favourite song of theirs - although I love everything they've ever produced, so having a favourite is growing increasingly difficult as they start releasing more albums - I jumped up from my seat and proceeded to make my way through the tightest crowd I've seen to date in the Jazz Cafe, Camden to sing along and, after much force and persuasion, fist punch the air to the beat with my mother.

Smoove & Turrell really do bring the party to town and you'd be silly to not catch them whenever you get the chance. We caught them the day before they were off to Saint Tropez to flaunt what their mothers gave 'em in some tight speedos and we were very lucky to get tickets!

 If you want to hear more from Smoove & Turrell then clickety click click below...

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