Aldous sits on a stool at the front of the stage in a large ballroom on a rainy Sunday night. She is hunched over, almost engulfing her acoustic guitar, and struggling to find the right tune in the strings. She is surrounded by the heavy instruments and amplifiers of the full bands that perform on either end of her humble set.
And yet there is a timelessness to her song. Her themes, and the scenes she paints in the darkness of a ballroom could have come from the last century, or the next. And perhaps they have, and will.
Words by: Matt Smoot