A cold night, and a standing ovation for an atheist in a church...

How to even begin a description of my evening is difficult. To try and describe it all feels somewhat like it would cheapen the subject itself, suffice to say I doubt I will experience music like this again for a very long time.

Before I explain, I will quickly mention I saw Them Crooked Vultures the night before last. They were very, very good, in particular the mixture of Dave Ghrol and John Paul Jones contributing to a pulverizing rhythm section. These guys could move houses with their riffs. A fantastic gig, but not the subject of this entry. Here we go...

I first heard of Frank Turner through my friend Tom, someone who has always been a source of music for me. He will very often point me towards fantastic acts, but when he told me about this particular musician, it was as if he had undergone a religious conversion. I was going to be listening to this music whether I liked it or not, so its pretty fortunate I thought it was so bloody good. The songs hit a chord, as they have with a huge amount of people, and most of my friends. I was all set to go to the flowerpot and see him - then due to other circumstances (Women! Bah!) I couldn't go. I was gutted. Sitting at home on the dreary evening, my phone goes off, its Tom at the gig. Brilliant, I think, just what I need. I get to hear what I'm missing out on. Tom's excited voice comes down the phone. He says someone wants to talk to me, then Frank is speaking to me saying he's gutted I couldn't make it. He's never met me, and he dedicated "Worse Things Happen at Sea" to me, just because I had an awful day. I still have the shitty recording someone took, and whoever that is, I owe you a beer at some point. This guy is not only a bonafide fine musician, he's also probably the nicest man in the world. No exaggeration, honestly.

When I first saw Frank Turner, it was in Tom's living room. He was filming a music video for his song "The Road", and this involved twenty four gigs in twenty four hours. We were two in the afternoon, and he still turned up all shattered and charming and played for us. We're in the video, I'm standing right next to him in a white shirt. Look for the only part that has the crowd singing along, with a crowd surfer. (Tom, obviously.) I also force a cut at one point because I forget the words, as I am a dick. I went on to see him at Reading, and on his own tour, he continues to be bloody brilliant.
Frank Turner is very good at what he does, and last night he played a special gig at the Union Chapel.

For those not in the know, the Union Chapel in Islington is a church. This contributed in a big way to what made the evening so special. It's beautiful inside, the lights on the stage contrasting with the stain glass feature above it. Intimate is an understatement. Everyone sits in pews, as you would at a church, and the acoustics of the place are like nothing else. I was lucky enough to be sitting right up front, and when people were playing you couldn't hear anything else, the whole building just vibrates with sound. Me and my friend got in late, hurrying in from the ridiculous outside cold - not as bad as back home mind. No snow in London, which was slightly sad. Coming out of the church into the snowy capital of England might have been an idyllic overload. Anyway, we got in and up on stage is a little chap called Ben Marwood. He was rather good actually, a contagious mix of nerves and hyperactive charisma. We got right into the front and just sat and listened. I will be making sure to look this guy up, even if we only caught the last bit of his act.

After him was Emily Barker and the Red Clay Halo. Now this was something completely different. The lovely ladies filled up the stage and got out a cello, a violin and an accordion. Again, we all just sat and listened. There was something particularly festive about this act, an almost romantic vibe. It should be noted that Frank hadn't actually arrived yet. The poor sod had been stuck in France and was still trying to get to the actual gig - by this point however it was clear we'd still get our moneys worth out of the night. One of the joys of going to gigs is discovering artists you'd never even heard of, and this one was a goldmine. It looks like I'm going to be spending my day searching myspaces and so on to find more stuff from these guys.

Ten minutes after that (ridiculously fast turnover of acts) Chris T-T comes on stage and plays a beautiful piano piece. For a minute I was expecting simply instrumental piano the entire way through, but then he stood up and came to the front of the stage. "All of the people here are really friendly", he said, "I've never been given a blowjob in a church before." This man is bloody funny, and his sadly short act was... quirky. Completely brilliant, but I describing it would probably do it a disservice. Go and look him up. Now. He's got a new single coming out soon called "Nintendo", its rather good. Go find it, the blog will still be here when you get back.

So we all waited for Frank Turner. In the end, he was about ten minutes late, walked in and straight onto the stage holding a bottle of wine. He promises that tonight's going to be a little bit different, this was an understatement. He played a brilliant selection of songs, with his ever talented band at the ready. Loads of surprises thrown into the mix - "Hold Your Tongue" in particular made me grin, I think its one of his best, but I never thought I'd hear it live. The new arrangement of "Father's Day", with Chris on piano was pitch perfect, one of the most emotional performances I've ever seen. All the previous acts came on stage to perform "Last Christmas" on stage. The grandeur of the surroundings wasn't lost on Turner, at one point he stated although he was a stringent atheist, he felt a bit weird swearing in a church. He did anyway, and it was fantastic. Frank always plays with an intensity that can charge up an audience but in these surroundings, at this time of year, with these people, these songs, this crowd: it was electric, preaching to the masses.

Frank Turner always managed to deliver the goods, whether it be in someones living room, a festival stage, a huge London venue or even a Church. Last night he gathered a supremely talented group of people and put on the kind of show that everyone attending is going to remember for a very long time. At the end of the show, the band leaves Turner on stage and he apologies that they don't have time for the entire set list. He plays his staple last song, "The Ballad of Me and My Friends". The entire congregation stands, claps and chants along with him. An atheist at the pulpit, a crowd in the pews, singing away at the last gig of the decade. Remarkable, unforgettable and special. The poster for the event I bought will be framed, and it was worth every penny.

If you haven't seen Frank Turner before, go and see him. If you get a chance to see any gig in the Union Chapel, go to it. This is the first gig that caused me to beging writing about it the second I got home, and I shouldn't be surprised - Frank Turner never disappoints.

In the last two days I saw a media proclaimed "superband", in the gigantic Hammersmith Apollo, and a folk singer for the fourth time this year in a little church in London. He still managed to blow everything else out of the water. As we were all chanting last night: "We're definitely going to hell, but we'll have all the best stories to tell". This would be one of them.