Beth Hart
22nd February 2025 – Warwick Arts Centre
Supporting Beth was old friend Wille Edwards, aka Wille and The Bandits. The Bandits’ reformation has taken time, but I’m pleased to say Wille is back. The band was brilliant at Linton last summer, and now, acoustically paired with Harry Mackhaill, Got To Do Better seemed like a reflection on past regrets—but fortunately, 4 Million Days did not take quite as long. Their lovely acoustic set was well received by the Hart aficionados filling the venue. Wille closed with bleeding slide guitar, slipping effortlessly into Johnson’s Crossroads.
There is little to say about Beth Hart that hasn’t been said before—she strides the world stage like a prowling Valkyrie. This is her You Still Got Me tour, following the release of that phenomenal album. Fresh from the record, she took to the piano with a dark, menacing Pimp Like That, cruising the riverside in her black Cadillac—a stunning opener.
The album seems to emphasise Beth’s powerful vibrato more than ever, so it felt fitting to launch into Machine Gun Vibrato. She attacked the keys as the band built up a pulsating rhythm, her voice breaking through in electrifying bursts of reverb. A gorgeous Melody Gardot song followed—the soulful Your Heart Is As Black As Night—a fabulous testament to Gardot’s songwriting.
Bassist Tom Lilly was put to the test, taking to the piano with a synth on board to replicate the soundscape of Let’s Get Together. Beth, meanwhile, ventured out into the audience, perching herself on the lap of a fan—a moment he’ll be retelling for years to come. Then came Caught Out In The Rain, pouring out in waves of thunderous highs and sweeping, aching lows.
Beth dismissed the band and took up her acoustic guitar. The audience hushed as St. Teresa floated up to us, a stark contrast to the raucous irreverence of Ugliest House On The Block, which reminded me of my first home! “We live in a fancier house now, thanks to you guys,” she quipped. The band returned, moving up front with acoustic instruments, cocktail drums, and double bass, driving into a hard-hitting Broken And Ugly.
The air grew heavier. Beth appealed for help, and someone stepped forward with nicotine gum. A jazz-edged lead carried us into the murderous Baby Shot Me Down, an avant-garde killer of a song. In dramatic contrast, the beautiful Lullaby Of The Leaves drifted gently away, inspired by Ella Fitzgerald’s rendition.
The crowd demanded more. Time stretched. The floor vibrated under thundering feet as shrill whistles bounced off the walls. She led her band back in, sweetening the bleeding hearts with a swaggering Suga In My Bowl. Jon Nichols threw in an electrifying solo, Bill Ransom’s drums hammered home. Refined? No—this was raw molasses.
The tempo turned darkly malevolent with Saviour With A Razor, cutting through the air. But all good things must come to an end. Beth, now back at her piano, closed with War In My Mind—a ballad that lays bare the battle raging inside her. Music is her release, spilling those imprisoned passions like blood on the walls.
Beth Hart is a sorceress. She holds audiences under her spell like no one else.
By: Graham Munn