Jeremy Warmsley

How many people do you know that can single-handedly silence a full Barfly?

It's 10.30, the floorboards of Camden's most well-trodden upstairs room are straining under the weight of pints and punters, and there's a peculiar silence from wall to wall. If you've just walked in, you've entered mid-song, in the space between two lines, before Jeremy Warmsley's vocals ring out again and shatter the silence. He can well afford to inject these pauses into his quixotic songs; whether it's a second or two minutes long, this audience is willing to wait.

In the space of a year, Warmsley's gone from handing out demos in this very room to enjoying the support of label du jour, Transgressive. Not long at all, but he moves fast; his songs attest to this. Seemingly, boredom strikes him easily - nothing sounds quite the same as the last time he played. Tonight his shifting band of multi-instrumentalists take a back seat as Warmsley plays much of the show solo, armed with an electric guitar and a little help from pianist Tom Rogerson, who attacks the instrument with the same accomplished irreverence that Warmsley employs. The manic creativity within these songs is self-evident, and needs no cloying, stretched out faux-preciousness to underline their artistry.

These songs' most identifiable quality is their natural unpredictability. No bland strummings here to anchor Warmsley's flyaway vocals; thoughtful, lilting melodies and a sardonic lyrical palette are rumpled by the wonky chords that cluster and clatter beneath them, causing havoc from below. It's a far more sophisticated and organic approach than many singer-songwriters adopt, and keeps his music textural and multi-dimensional even with the minimum of instruments.

Ultimately, Jeremy Warmsley's greatest strength is his refusal to sit still. In a world dominated by Blunts and Powters and other brainless, bloodless abominations against the songwriting craft, Warmsley's one of a growing breed that are out to demonstrate a more vivid path. The overriding feeling, watching him, is one of work in progress, ideas forming and shifting even mid-performance. Given the rate he moves at, who's to say where he'll be another year from now?