Stephern Langstaff at the Epstein Theatre, Liverpool. December 2014. Photograph by Ian D. Hall.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10

One of the ways in which to measure a person is how they can be weighed up in a situation not of their making or in the face of impossible insurmountable mounting odds; the quality of a person is not in what they eat, what they wear or how much stuff, gadgets, cost of house, money or seeming how popular they are after they have bought a round of drinks but in how they cope with a new challenge being thrown at them there and then on the spot and the power of how they are viewed.

For  Liverpool songwriter and genuine human being Stephen Langstaff, there isn’t a device yet built to take full stock of this young man’s presence or overwhelming ability to conjure something up on the trot. For Stephen Langstaff is quite simply a man whose talent is enough to make light shine out of the greyest, most perplexing day.

Returning home to Liverpool for an artist can be a daunting affair. The heart and head hurtle towards the same conclusion very quickly that all stops must be pulled out as far as possible, due thanks to the audience that have been there all along paid in full but also something perhaps unexpected, something unpredictable must happen in which to hang the gig upon and for a crowd member to be able to look their loved ones, colleagues or the ones they can’t secretly abide but talk to them on such matters to drown that person in their own seething envy and jealousy.

The Epstein Theatre and Stephen Langstaff are well suited, both have a very visible appeal that enhances the senses and as the audience watches Stephen perform tracks such as Someday, Black Northern Line, the absolute stormer I saw The Angels, the new single Sirens, Alligator and the very beautiful Smile, minds no doubt flashed back to the day when he walked on stage, a bundle of polite energy and obvious music potential, in support of American powerhouse The Bangles at The 02 Academy. So much has happened in under a decade that you wouldn’t blame Mr. Langstaff for occasionally pinching himself in sincerity to make sure he is still with us.

Accompanied by the superb Satin Beige on cello, Elliot Chapman and Wana Shibemba, this was a night in which foundation stones were added to, the humble but edifying structure that had built up around the frankly gorgeous songs in Stephen’s armoury, were given over to an audience to revel in as if in homage to them just for being there.

The test of a person is how they react to a situation, not only did Stephen Langstaff carry himself with his usual, enlightening demeanour throughout the set but when he deviated for a moment and sang a new song completely off the cuff, inspired by a young man at the front shortening his name in salute, the song that came forth was more than good enough to stand alongside those that had been polished, presented and greeted with pride. To measure Stephen Langstaff is impossible, he makes the job of doing so just ridiculous that the joy emanating from every face throughout tells its own unique and wonderful story.

Ian D. Hall