Odin Dragonfly

The Habit, York

14 March 2024

As a rule, I avoid free gigs in pubs. There are all kinds of problems: people randomly arriving and leaving during the set, bar noise, people talking (and, to be fair, you can't shush them because they've just come to the pub for a night out, they didn't ask to hear a band). And you don't know if you will be able to get a seat, or how noisy and crowded it will be, or how long the band will play, or how terrible the sound will be. I'm certainly not going to travel any kind of distance mid-week for a gig of uncertain quality, even if it is free.

But: Odin Dragonfly.

And as it happens, The Habit isn't bad at all. Even though there are many of the problems I mentioned, it's still a nice venue with a nice, welcoming atmosphere. Plus: Odin Dragonfly.

Odin Dragonfly

I arrive early, to find an audience of two other people watching the band set up and sound check in a corner of the bar. Thankfully, the crowd does swell to be more than just the three of us—still never a packed house, but not embarrassing. And while some people were obviously casual pub-goers, who came and left during the course of the evening, a fair few of us were obviously there specifically for the band, and some had travelled considerable distances (further than me!) for them.

If I told you how many times I have seen Heather Findlay and Angela Gordon live, you probably wouldn't believe me. Suffice to say, it's enough that an Odin Dragonfly gig shouldn't be able to surprise me now. And yet, they completely surprise me in several ways.

First surprise: no piano. Just flute and guitar and voices. This led to a completely unexpected set list. Several songs from the two Odin Dragonfly albums, of course, but rearranged to work without the piano. And to replace some of the songs you might normally expect but which presumably defied rearrangement, the second surprise: a whole bunch of Mostly Autumn songs. They start the show with Eyes of the Forest and end it with Caught in a Fold. I possibly could have predicted at least one of those, but I never expected to hear the other Mostly Autumn (and other) songs they scattered throughout the set.

As you expect with an Odin Dragonfly gig, it's a very relaxed and informal atmosphere. There is plenty of chat between songs, not all of it directed at the audience (but it's a very small room so we can hear it all anyway!) There are plenty of stories and anecdotes—most of which I've never heard before. And inevitably there are the technical issues you get from a relaxed and informal gig like this. Somebody (I'm not naming names) forgot to bring her guitar capo, so the set list has to be rewritten on the fly to keep everything in the same key. The guitar amplification cuts out for the whole of one song, but it doesn't stop me hearing it (small room!). Angela has a cold, and though it doesn't obviously affect her singing it does mean they have to end the show when she runs out of tissues!

Oh, the other problem with pub gigs: the audience lighting is brighter than it should be at a gig. So I'm trying really hard not to just cry through the whole gig, because it's really embarrassing when everyone can see you. And I hold it together pretty well. Right up until ...snow storms and icicles.... There are some moments in music which are... well, they are why I go to concerts.

The night is everything I could want from an Odin Dragonfly gig, and more, and it's even more than I could have dared hope for.

I'm sure I've said this before, but: my earliest memory of Mostly Autumn's music is Heather at the Opera House in York, 24 years ago, saying, "This next tune was written by our flute player, Angela Goldthorpe." I don't think I will ever again hear Mostly Autumn play Which Wood?. But I still have Odin Dragonfly.

I feel I'm starting to get a bit incohernet, so I'll just finish with this: I've heard Angela Gordon sing Diamonds and Rust. So that's it. I have reached the peak of gig happiness and life is all downhill from here.