Live Review: Badly Drawn Boy @ Virgin Headquarters, New York [8.14.07]

I'd love to say I have an amazing set of pictures to show you from Badly Drawn Boy's acoustic set on the roof here at Virgin Records but I don't. Suffice it to say that the scene was picturesque with the sun sinking below and between Manhattan's maze of buildings, casting a warm orange glow on everyone and everything.

Badly Drawn Boy took the stage around 6.45 after the Virgin/EMI/Blue Note/Capitol/Astralworks staff had finished slamming fish and chips and free Bass Ale. The fare, a part of the "Born in the U.K." theme of the evening, was solid and most importantly of all, free. Who says record labels are sinking in a sea of illegal-file sharing, music blogs, and album leaks? At least for tonight, we seemed to snap back to 1999 when 'NSYNC was selling 2.4 million albums a week and free fish and chips would be expensed to the "fuck it, who cares, I'm rich bitch" account.

It was an all-acoustic set with "the one who is poorly rendered" being supported by a nameless, dark-haired guy who finger-picked solos while Badly motored through the Barr chords. It was a warm evening, in feeling and temperature, and Poorly Sketched played all the quote "hits." Skimming through "Once Around The Block" and "Born In The U.K.," the set had a quiet dignity to it - all of which seems appropriate for a show that, ostensibly, had Badly Drawn playing directly to the company that represents him.

It would be kind of like if you worked a job making copies and your bosses liked your work so much they asked you to come make copies for free in front of all the people who own and run Kinko's. Hey, it's kind of flattering and it's kind of bullshit. Why am I here? Because they like me or because I have no choice?

Luckily, Badly Drawn Boy wasn't leading any revolution against his label. He was just entertaining a warm crowd, with tight, little acoustic songs built for a sunset rooftop on 20th and 5th. And even if only a few of us were actually "born in the U.K." it didn't seem to matter. There is something about an artist's poor rendition of a man that makes everyone feel welcome. Even the Suits.

[photo care of www.musicsnobbery.com]