Have a listen.
James Varda erupted into oblivion in around 1988 and has largely been unheard of ever since which is utterly bemusing. I first saw him as the support for Roy Harper, who was impressed enough with the angry young man to offer him a rare opportunity opening the show, and liked him from the first verse. He stood awkwardly and played his guitar with his head on one side looking shy. But his songs gave the lie to that. They were powerful and full of poetic imagery and passion. The songs rang and there was a hint of Dylan’s snarling tongue. His black clothes and attitude were redolent of that early polka-dot shirt and angry stance. He spat the words out. You don’t normally pay too much attention to the support act but James was riveting. He was tall, wiry with skin tight trousers and pointy shoes like an…
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