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Monica Queen



El Rancho Relaxo, Bastille, May 27th 2006

Tasteful yet never bland, the perfect accompaniment to afterglow and mellow contemplation...the red wine Johnny Smillie sips between songs seems an apt refreshment. The ringing acoustics and impeccable vocals from Monica Queen and her enviably inventive guitarist satisfy the pallette like a bottle of fine Beaujolais shared between friends: mature yet fresh, eternal flavours sampled anew. Tonight the wood-panelled Bastille hosts a perfect match of performers, venue and audience. Exuding casual bonhomie, country club El Rancho Relaxo extends an amber-hued, candlelit Hola to an encouragingly diverse audience ranging from seasoned C&W connoisseurs to younger guns such as one young buck who could give Belle And Sebastian's Belfast Bob Kildea a run for his money in a Best Feathercut Of 1973 competition. From the moment Queen and Smillie take the intimate stageless stage through to the closing, spine-tingling The Holiest Night, the former Thrum chanteuse exerts quiet command through eight sorrowful mysteries. Rapt, we savour each word elegantly conveyed with the languid precision of a Patsy Cline. Heartbreaking ballads of love in the dark and a new, Loretta Lynn-style tale of living in a one-roomed house embrace the ether while 260 describes "a dreamer of dreamers" on the Glasgow to Coatbridge bus, "smokers at the back so much younger" with a transient serenity, the commonplace made magical, a vintage performance.

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