Tonight, Matthew's gonna be...
Ella Guru, Matthew Jay, Summer 2001, Liverpool Lomax

There’s a whole new element to Ella Guru tonight – not the back projections, or the way they gleefully made us of the Lomax’s opportunity for a wider, bassier sound – but the introduction of Claire, a smoke-drenched femalevelvet vocalist for one track. Adding this Fahey-esque zip to the Guru’s sound could be what it takes to turn local heroes into a national brand. Ella Guru have always had songs you want to take home; the track that featured Claire will haunt your house.

If Ella Guru have a fault with their usual material, its probably that sometimes the vocals allow themselves to be swamped by the music. The pefect fix for this was hinted at tonight – the Lomax does allow you to listen, more so than the other stages in this city – and it depends on the song. The mellower songs should behave like Jane Austen virgins on their wedding nights, and ask the backings to assert their masculinity, but more gently; while the wilder numbers are calling out for the singer to tighten his trousers and embrace some shouting.

While Ella Guru could have been hand carved for this stage, Matthew Jay’s music is clearly created with other places in mind – for the Sunday afternoon hiatus between first date and first shag; or the last band before twilight fellafel at Glastonbury.

A fan tells me that I should give them ten out of ten because they sound exactly like the album does; this is true, and while with some bands this would be a problem, highlighting either an unacceptable level of pre-gig construction work (There ain’t no party not like any other S-Club Party) or a shortfall of inspiration. But with the Matthew Jay set up, it’s appropriate – when the songs were crafted to perfection before they ever thought of seeking an audience, you have a body of work to exhibit; gigs are more an act of curation rather than an opportunity for on-the-spot reinterpretation.

"Must be a cousin of badly drawn boy – ‘bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.’ No, he’s good" mutters an observer. "I think he’s fucking brilliant" offers another. "These are going to be bigger than the Stereophonics."

Clearly, their record company doesn’t think so, since Matthew shares that if next single doesn’t get a top 75, there might not be any more. But ‘please don’t send me away’ deserves much more than the shallows of that end of the chart – heartfelt and desperate, its fate should be under the skin, not skimming the surface. Sweetly, politely, but with a sense of time passing, this sums up the band’s message: there’s nowhere you can go where there’s nobody, but that doesn’t stop you being alone.

- Simon Budgen