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Jamie T review – rollicking homecoming for indie journeyman | Music

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Jamie T stands on the stage of Finsbury Park, takes a swig of lager, and thrusts his hands into his pockets. Almost two decades stretch out before him in a sea of 45,000 people. It’s a homecoming for the Wimbledon-born troubadour with the wonky teeth and cheeky grin, whose pint-sloshing indie anthems have been the soundtrack to the British coming-of-age story. Standing in the north London drizzle feels not only fitting, but like an act of patriotism.

Since his 2007 Mercury prize nominated debut, Jamie T has continued to climb to his feet after being knocked down with the “one-hit wonder” sucker punch. Every return is an underdog’s triumph: his fifth record released last year, The Theory of Whatever, marked his first UK No 1 album; tonight marks his biggest headline show of his career – and this, he tells us, is “the biggest moment of my life right now.”

Jamie T gives us all of Saturday night’s mischief and spares us Sunday morning’s hangover. His performance is replete with rollicking crowd-pleasers from the thunderous Rabbit Hole to the scrappy ska rhythms of If You Got the Money; his kitchen-sink vignettes of London, in all its charm and grit, tumble out of people’s mouths, sparking off delighted recognition as often as flares of green and violet shoot into the air. “This one’s from the last record,” he says, introducing firecracker Between the Rocks, and yet it doesn’t feel like an apology – his audience loyally lap it up.

The singer-songwriter has had well-documented struggles with anxiety, but tonight, he plays with the first flush of invincible teenage passion. He returns for the encore in an AFC Wimbledon kit, his home colours, met with a back-slapping chant: “Jamie fucking T!”. For the era-defining Sticks ’n’ Stones and Zombie he brings out The Maccabees’ Hugo White, the friend who gave him his first guitar at 16. With a happy birthday and a marriage proposal, he harnesses the crowd’s lairy camaraderie and brings the intimacy of a misty-eyed night at the boozer – “a family affair”.


Jamie T stands on the stage of Finsbury Park, takes a swig of lager, and thrusts his hands into his pockets. Almost two decades stretch out before him in a sea of 45,000 people. It’s a homecoming for the Wimbledon-born troubadour with the wonky teeth and cheeky grin, whose pint-sloshing indie anthems have been the soundtrack to the British coming-of-age story. Standing in the north London drizzle feels not only fitting, but like an act of patriotism.

Since his 2007 Mercury prize nominated debut, Jamie T has continued to climb to his feet after being knocked down with the “one-hit wonder” sucker punch. Every return is an underdog’s triumph: his fifth record released last year, The Theory of Whatever, marked his first UK No 1 album; tonight marks his biggest headline show of his career – and this, he tells us, is “the biggest moment of my life right now.”

Jamie T gives us all of Saturday night’s mischief and spares us Sunday morning’s hangover. His performance is replete with rollicking crowd-pleasers from the thunderous Rabbit Hole to the scrappy ska rhythms of If You Got the Money; his kitchen-sink vignettes of London, in all its charm and grit, tumble out of people’s mouths, sparking off delighted recognition as often as flares of green and violet shoot into the air. “This one’s from the last record,” he says, introducing firecracker Between the Rocks, and yet it doesn’t feel like an apology – his audience loyally lap it up.

The singer-songwriter has had well-documented struggles with anxiety, but tonight, he plays with the first flush of invincible teenage passion. He returns for the encore in an AFC Wimbledon kit, his home colours, met with a back-slapping chant: “Jamie fucking T!”. For the era-defining Sticks ’n’ Stones and Zombie he brings out The Maccabees’ Hugo White, the friend who gave him his first guitar at 16. With a happy birthday and a marriage proposal, he harnesses the crowd’s lairy camaraderie and brings the intimacy of a misty-eyed night at the boozer – “a family affair”.

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