Bridget St John - The Carlton Club
Manchester, England - 21st August 2025
TWELVE HOURS BEFORE (A Poem for Bridget St John)
Twelve hours before
as night consigned that day
to where all days reside,
she'd stood alone in the spotlight
whilst diamonds from a glitterball
caressed her form,
embellishing her coloured cloak
as she sang afresh the songs
of brothers from her muse
she had outlived,
as love restored their words
from her crafted presence,
which time alone allows
to carve from within.
A voice of cello elegance,
resonant and unassumingly sublime,
stilled the room,
some gift from time.
Her own songs rose and swooped
as birds in evening do
between the light of day
and night's encroachment
and as her silence fell,
head bowed as indication of completion,
she left the stage beneath a rainfall of applause,
an emissary from another time
but of the now.
This morning as I wandered through
my local coffee shop
with its usual discretion of piped jazz
I spied her seated with a friend
which made me smile because
the evening had more punctuation
to extend into a Friday dawn.
As she walked by I said her name,
she smiled in gratitude
and whispered
'I remembered you from the dark last night'
as I thanked her for those songs,
but when I turned my head
a little later
her table had been cleared
concluding her brief vignette of reprise,
reclaimed by traffic noise,
the clatter of cups,
conversations heard,
but not discerned.
-------------------------
The Carlton Club lies tucked away in the leafy Manchester suburb of Whalley Range, mentioned and immortalised by Morrissey in his Smiths song "Miserable Lie:"
"What do we get for our trouble and pain?
Just a rented room in Whalley Range"
It played host the other evening to English export to New York, the legendary songstress Bridget St John, who captivated a considerable audience with an all-too-brief catalogue of her exquisite songs and those of those she'd known along the way, Michael Chapman, Nick Drake, and John Martyn. All sadly gone.
Her quartet of albums, three on John Peel's legendary Dandelion Records, beginning with Ask Me No Questions in 1969. Plus Jumble Queen on Chrysalis in 1974 marked her out as an innovator of English singer-songwriters, although she admits from the stage that the term "Folk" has never felt appropriate, nor accurately representative of her craft.
She was joined by her friend and occasional collaborator, Emma Tricca, who had proved a sublime support act, her own creations possessing gossamer-like elements, underlined by a profound certainty of tone. A talent of immense elegance, and one worthy of discovering if you wish to unearth a new repertoire of worthy gems, Aspirin Sun, her latest album, is a perfect place of modulated beauty to work backwards from.=
During her set, she had been assisted by Pete Greenwood, another remarkable and deceptively understated talent whose set of songs betrayed a deep intelligence and songcraft, aided manfully by his exceptional and refined guitar skills. His debut solo work, Sirens, from 2008 on Heavenly Records, remains a touchstone work that provides constant pleasure via its gently understated accomplishments.
It proved a magical evening, three individual talents under the same roof, something to cherish after the lights went out and the doors of the Carlton Club closed on its Victorian splendour.