David Kitt live at Cyprus Avenue
There’s no pretence, no studied on-stage act, no veneer of rock star us-and-them detachment. David Kitt's genuine and the crowd appreciate it.
Mark Keane
It’s hard not to enjoy the company of an affable chap like David Kitt. Only a curmudgeon would bristle when he tells the Cyprus Avenue crowd of his two-night stand here: “Sorry for those who came last night…we played the same set.” He quickly adds the rejoinder, “But we played better tonight,” and is greeted with hoots of approval from the more than satisfied audience.
It’s this everyman appeal, which embues Kitt’s live shows with a special warmth. There’s no pretence, no studied on-stage act, no veneer of rock star us-and-them detachment. He’s genuine and the crowd appreciate it.
His voice may not be a thing of great renown, but its plaintive, dry timbre has its own charms. It’s simple and earnest, not an powerful medium by any stretch, but is suited to Kittser’s delicate electronic and acoustic moments, each thoughtfully etch-a-sketched with precision.
There’s more to Kitt than a beeps-and-beats balladeer. His latest offering Not Fade Away has more than a few raucous rocking out numbers. Tonight the lead single ‘Say No More’ erupts from the speakers with a new found defiance, leaving the crowd in no doubt as to his intent.
‘Don’t Fuck With Me’ is another highlight, with Kitt doused in red lighting, stalking the stage and exuding a cartoon menace. There are moments in the show when you sense he’s holding back, but this is not one of them. The mood also chimes with bassist Richie Egan, who always has that mischievous glint in his eye, and whom you half expect to have a slingshot hanging out of his back pocket.
The show acts as a reminder of the strength of Kitt’s back catalogue. The freewheeling euphoria of ‘Into The Breeze’ builds up an intoxicating head of steam, and the roof is lifted off during an encore of ‘You Know What I Want To Know’. Even Kitt looks mildly startled at the rapturous sing-along.
He’s not finished there. A second encore is demanded and rewarded with a new and untitled ten minute electro-rock blow-out. Afterwards Kittser wanders off stage, both chuffed at himself and humbled at the reaction. He’s just one of us after all.
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