With velvet curtains, glitterballs and acoustics befitting a voice as deep and lush as Richard Hawley's, you'd swear that tonight, the Philharmonic was built just for him. 

Rake thin and with trademark slicked back rocker hair, he comes on stage to a hero's welcome. And, as tonight  proves beyond all doubt, Richard Hawley has become an unlikely hero, in a strange but utterly charming way.
It has been often said that Hawley's songs have the knack of making you feel like they're already old classics as soon as you hear them; in a live setting, this feeling is amplified along with the cranked guitars. What's interesting now is that some of these songs really are classics - the opening string motif of 'Coles Corner' raises a genuine cheer from the audience, as do at least half a dozen others - and you realise just how much these songs have come to mean to so many people.

He has become a hero of good, old fashioned music. A glance around the audience sees smiling families, pensioners, teenagers basking in the warmth of these timeless songs. Everyone is welcome at a Richard Hawley gig, and no-one leaves short-changed. This is magic with not a trace of bullshit; profound in the most matter of fact, unaffected way. One minute he's telling a joke that wouldn't be out of place in an episode of Phoenix Nights, the next, such as in set closer 'The Ocean', he is wrenching the most beautiful, damaged and sky-scraping echoes from his guitar like the master he is (but would never admit to being).

When Richard Hawley plays live, he doesn't so much create his own world as make you feel at home - at peace, no less - in yours. That's a rare gift indeed. Tonight, these tunes were ours. (Ambrose Fischer)