
As the dying sunlight bleeds through Union Chapel's wondrous stained glass windows, the brightest light in Islington tonight beams out from pearly whites amongst a wash of troubadour stubble beneath a tweed flat cap. For years Patrick Watson has resided in the shadows of his acclaimed compatriots from Feist to Metric, rustling up a wholesome blend of genuine eccentricity, resounding innovation and impeccable composition. Tonight, as the lights involuntarily dim, a swirling musical wind whistles around the unsung alternative genius of an era shrouded by the dull, claustrophobic smog of guitar leads and Casio tones. The hallowed cylindrical [...]