That hesitation is worth explaining, because it’s part of why I’m sitting here writing this now.

Someone asked me before the gig in question whether I’d be writing a review of it, and my first instinct was “absolutely not, I don’t know the first thing about drumming from a technical perspective”, and this was a drumming gig; I did not feel by any means qualified. I mean, I can tell the difference between a drummer who serves the song and one who’s just hitting things in the general direction of the music, sometimes just playing to their own tune, it feels like, but I couldn’t give you a meaningful breakdown of paradiddles and rudiments as if I actually knew what I was talking about. I even said as much to Steve himself after the gig, alongside some appropriate expletive emphasis to absolutely announce that I was not up to that task. I instantly regretted saying that, especially directly to Steve, because actually everything I’ve always believed about reviewing music is that it doesn’t necessarily come from technical knowledge, it comes from what the music does to you, viscerally. And what this gig did to me was hold my attention still for an entire evening, my feet and hands having other ideas, and left me hoping every track wouldn’t be the last one.

I’ve known of Steve White since I discovered The Style Council many moons past, furiously absorbing as much as I could do, and wanting to get to know what I could about the band as a whole (not as easy to come by back in the day). Wind the clock forward, and last year I was lucky enough by chance to have the opportunity to interview Steve, following his drumming involvement on the debut album for Earth-O-Naut (This Is Nowhere. This Is Everywhere.), for whom I had reviewed some early releases and also interviewed. Those reviews had made me listen to Steve’s drum parts in more depth than ever before, and I knew I had to go and watch the master at work when I discovered Steve was going on tour with the Steve White Trio. Despite my route to seeing him play, Steve’s musical world is much broader and more varied than most people realise. Alongside his work with Earth-O-Naut, he plays and collaborates with artists including Lucca Mae, his longstanding friendship and musical partnership with Dee C Lee continues, and his back catalogue includes collaborative projects with an absurd roster of talent; The Style Council, Paul Weller, Trio Valore and The Family Silver, to name a few; even the story of how he got his first gig with the Style Council is worth seeking out in isolation.

What none of that biography does is fully prepares you for watching him play. The absence of ego is the first thing you notice, not because it’s unusual to say, but because it’s immediately and visibly true. He may have said the most words chatting to the audience that night, it was technically his gig in fairness, but on the kit, Steve plays with complete empathy for each song. He leads everything, as drummers tend to, the mood, the tone, the invisible architecture of how a track breathes and moves, but without ever announcing it or needing to be in the limelight, and always to what the tracks ask for, not what an ego might want to play. (I’m sure many drummers, if they read this, will be saying that’s always the case, however, I know from experience it definitely isn’t.)

The setlist on the night drew largely from ‘Soul Drums, the Jazz Sessions Volume 1’, the trio’s debut album and the inaugural release in Acid Jazz Records‘ Jazz Sessions series, alongside tracks from Steve’s wider back catalogue, closing with a song that sits in my all-time personal favourites. Each track delivered something different, and that’s no small thing for a gig built around drumming as its centrepiece. The range was remarkable; from speed and complexity that were genuinely jaw-dropping to moments so delicate the room became entranced in stillness and silence, all watching mesmerised. Recognising and acknowledging the stamina required to sustain intricate rhythmic passages without faltering, to hold a pattern while everything around you builds, to rein it all in when necessary and then release it again, is, I feel, a kind of appreciation of the craft even if I can’t name the techniques.

Joel White on vocals and keyboards and Chris Hague on guitar were both exceptional in their own right and as part of the trio, and that’s one of the things I love about gigs like this, where you feel there’s a mysterious and secret language between the musicians on stage that the audience can sense but never quite access. I’ve felt it watching Villagers, Mama Terra and Davina and the Vagabonds, some sort of invisible connective tissue that makes three people on a stage feel like one. The Cluny audience that night was a brilliant mix of clear long-time Steve White devotees alongside younger drummers who’d come to watch someone they consider an inspiration, side by side in the same room, all completely hooked. I found myself wondering who amongst those young faces will be on a stage somewhere in five or ten years’ time, and whether part of what set them in motion was that Friday night in Newcastle.

I came home with a copy of the vinyl, grabbed from the merch table because I couldn’t find it anywhere else; thank goodness they’d brought some along. It’s on the turntable regularly, which tells its own story, really, because I never thought of myself as someone who’d actively seek out an album led by drumming and keep going back to it. Apparently, I am now, and my music enjoyment is that bit richer for it.

My feet barely stopped all night, and afterwards all three of them stayed and talked with the audience, generously, warmly and completely present, ensuring each person was made to feel special and able to show their genuine affection and appreciation for the band, the expertise and the craft. That kind of generosity seriously matters, especially when you have followers who have been in the game for decades, and it’s musicians who understand their fan base as well as their craft that genuinely keep collecting new fans as they continue to create.

You can catch the Steve White Trio this autumn; September, October and November dates are available now. I’ll definitely be going again at some point, I suggest you do too, and I won’t spend four months talking myself out of writing it up next time.