As the music industry turned its gaze towards the Brit Awards, one of Britain’s most underrated bands arrived on stage in Britain a world away from Mastercard sponsorship deals and tabloid gossip columns.
In fact, Money confirmed themselves as a band almost from a bygone era when frontmen were cherished for their character as much as their ability.
Frontman Jamie Lee - like an afternoon drinker with stories to tell - wore his heart on his sleeve through his words. His unchoreographed earnestness, coming down among the audience to sing one song, felt like something the modern mainstream is unwilling to tolerate these days.
Baring his soul on songs like the crushingly frank Cocaine Christmas and An Alcoholic’s New Year was not the sort of behaviour which is going to see Lee’s band nominated for any trophies, but was exactly what set Money apart.
The presence of a cellist and violinist aided a euphoric Letter For Yesterday, which hinted at A Storm In Heaven-era Verve, before Lee once again proved the star turn when he sat at the piano for a solo version of Black.
The occasional crack in his voice and the duff note during said encore added to Money’s - and specifically Lee’s - charm. You got the rough with the smooth, but it was always enthralling.
Four stars
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