In 1997 country-folk legend Emmylou Harris visited Vietnam and Cambodia to observe the devastation that landmines have caused there. Within months of her return Artists For A Landmine Free World was born. Every year since, a loose collective of singer songwriters, comprising the likes of Mary Chapin Carpenter, Bruce Cockburn, Bruce Springsteen and Patty Griffin have toured the US and Canada in an effort to raise awareness and funds for the Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation campaign against landmines.
The latest leg of the tour has visited Ireland and Scotland before tonight's sold out London show. Just scanning the Hammersmith Apollo immediately prior to the gig, it is impossible to mistake the keen air of expectation in the room. Posses of 40-something bearded muso's huddle in every corner enthusiastically swapping Emmylou Harris facts like gangs of teenage Westlife fans outside the SM:TV studios. Even the respectfully sparse set - just five chairs, a battery of acoustic guitars and a keyboard - seems somehow to echo the air of reverential anticipation that tonight's line up evokes.
The format of the show is simple. Emmylou Harris, John Pryne, Steve Earle, Elvis Costello and Nanci Griffith take turns to perform a hypnotic and impeccably rendered jumble of self-penned favourites, cover versions and country - folk standards. The vocals, particularly in the case of Harris, are stunning, as is the pared down acoustic simplicity of the songs. Perhaps most striking, however, is the warm sense of conviviality that the artists create - effectively shrinking the 2500 capacity Apollo venue to the size of an intimate late night folk club.
It is this air of geniality that allows the personality of each performer to shine through. So, rather like a middle aged Hear'Say, tonight we have "the sexy one" (Harris), far sexier than a 55 year old country idol has any right to be; "The cheeky one" (Pryne) a kind of latterday folk Robbie Williams complete with a hard smoking American drawl and knowingly humorous jack the lad lyrics; "The moody one" (Earle) with his newly discovered trick for writing "chick songs" to prevent his audience growing hairier and uglier with the passing years; "The nice one" (Griffith) with her sincere onstage announcements and sweet vocal delivery; And, of course, "the modest one" (Costello), the self-styled "audience member who just got promoted."
With a set list comprising classics such as Earle's 'The Galway Girl', Pryne's 'Hard Way To Go', and Griffith's 'Speed Of Sound Of Loneliness', as well as new material in the shape of Costello's viciously tuneful 'Alibi', this gig was always going to be worth a glance. Supreme song writing and impeccable musicianship delivered with endless charm, however, transform it into a truly memorable event.
