"When you hear a voice that smacks of a uniqueness that reminds you of absolutely no-one else at all, that is a good moment. This, therefore, is a good moment. The voice is certainly the selling point here. That said, the song Mahogany Love too is good, and the acoustic instrumentation is nicely recorded too, with plenty of room for further arrangement if required. Not an easy thing to sound different these days, but Jon manages it with effortless ease. Great achievement."
Ken Morrison - Fame Games Reviewer
"Jon's voice is unique, his stage presence is amazing, amazing"
Ariel Bender - Mott the Hoople & Stealers Wheel
"I love his confidence on stage, the way he described his tunes between each track was awesome. I loved the whole set, great work"
Sarah - Promoter of Storm, Leicester Square, London
"Absolutely brillant, great audience interation and stage presence, will welcome him back"
Jason Hampton - The Hamptons, Southampton
Alexia Wdowski - Journalist
Isle of Wight’s pilgrim to the land of noise, Jon Hart, looks on-stage like a little ginger bird that has fallen out of his nest and, like the good guy in the panto, needs a clapping crowd to help him fly.
His first song in a varied set started off all Toploader-esqe with a chorus catchier than swine flu. You want him to do well (he is a charmer) but then you kind of want a vaccination at the same time (beware the charmer). He’s just so slick outwardly and a bit quippy. I’m not a big fan of quips at gigs. Just stick to the music. And the music was definitely sticky enough. I was humming later on. Yes. Humming! “You….Are…My…..RooOOose.”
The keyboard player, Ramon, and the deeper strokes of the guitar were a spirited accompaniment to Hart’s rich voice which held echoes of early REM; but there see we have already hit on my main Problem with John Hart. He comes from the Isle of Wight. Now I know it’s possibly slightly closer to America than London, but there’s no reason why he should sing in an American accent just yet.
I know when I was small I grew up not realising that most songs I heard on the radio, and TV were sung in American accents. Jon has been a musician since the age of five. He probably formed his singing voice to American songs. Or maybe it’s a style he’s cultivated, I should have asked him.
Anyway, all those people, singers in the past, most of your parent’s record collection, have American accents when they talk. Just not Jon, I spoke to him.
His own accent in a song would uncurl his corseted vowels and, I’m sure, release a much fuller voice with true and authentic beauty.
I mean it will be all fine later, once he’s won best song at the MTV awards and has travelled the world so many times that he doesn’t know where he lives anymore. Then it will be fine to have that trans-Atlantic singing voice. Just not yet.
Obama’s only just been elected…people are still a bit iffy about the whole neo-con thing, and why I am going on about it so much is that Jon has a lovely voice. A real chocolate ice-creamy voice. A rainy Sunday with your lover voice.
Anyway, weird accent rant over, the music itself swung from big and catchy, like a Spanish beachball, with lots of twangy American Red Hot chilli Pepper vocals to softer harmonies that tapered on and off into bluesy rhythms. I prefer the songs where John’s voice is allowed to jump out of the snappy style he tends to stick too and soar over sparser backing from the keys and guitar.
The chords tinkled up and down like a metal spiral staircase and sometimes there were faint echoes of a manly Joni Mitchell when the background tinkled and the lyrics were playful. Each song had moments of greatness, where you could forgive the frenzied Americana and daydream to magical minor keys and harmonies.
