Music review: Joesef, King Tut’s, Glasgow

When Joesef, a DIY blue-eyed soul man from the east end of Glasgow, sold out his debut gig earlier this year, heads were turned and the hype commenced. He’d apparently managed to attract a fan-base on the strength of just one song, Limbo. How? An irresistible combination of a catchy tune, a sweetly soulful voice and some canny marketing voodoo? Presumably.

Joesef, King Tut’s, Glasgow ***

Five months on from his first stage triumph, he returned to the same hallowed venue, King Tut’s, for two sold-out shows. He’s since released a few more tracks, including latest single and set opener Loverboy. This song encapsulates his appeal. He sounds like Mick Hucknall and Boy George grazing through The Style Council’s Long Hot Summer. At his best, he writes dreamy Al Green-inspired hooks which insinuate themselves instantly within the boudoir of your mind. He’s talented.

Backed by an unassumingly funky four-piece band, the lanky young crooner performed a bijou 45-minute set comprised of songs largely inspired by his first, painful break-up.

Unfortunately, his falsetto confessionals were occasionally muffled by an unflattering sound mix. Not that the enthusiastically partisan crowd seemed to care. A novice, slightly awkward performer, he gradually grew in confidence as he soaked in the love – Joesef is all about the love – of the room. It was rather sweet.

When the band left the stage after a closing Limbo, he merrily led the faithful through some unaccompanied choruses. He’s going to be a star. That’s a foregone conclusion. - Paul Whitelaw