Kathryn Williams: Taking a late change of support and special guest in her stride at Pocklington Arts Centre
WEDNESDAY broke with the news that guitarist Matt Deighton, support and special guest on the first leg of Kathryn Williams’s Mystery Park Tour last autumn, would not be available for the second. All the shingles’ Hades, poor lad, had come his way. Get well soon.
Opening night in Pocklington was only two days away. Crumbs. Here’s where the rules of six degrees of separation came into play. Liverpool-born Kath and West of Scotland guitarist Memphis Gerald – so called after someone misheard his real name of Ben Fitzgerald – both live in Newcastle but had never met on the folk circuit.
However, they share a mutual friend in Louis Abbott of Glaswegian folkies Admiral Fallow, who put Kath in touch with Memphis. A few emails later to rearrange his diary, and Memphis was on board for Kath’s travels.
Three hours of rehearsals on Thursday introduced Kath to Memphis and Memphis to her songs, whose guitar parts he was still practising studiously in the still chill of night until 4am, nevertheless grateful to be “thrown onto this bill at the very last minute”.
“I can’t believe I met you only yesterday,” he would say to Kath between songs as they settled into their Pocklington groove. “I don’t think I could have learned these songs so quickly if they weren’t so gorgeous.”
Memphis had opened the show beneath his peaked cap with a solo set in the low light of three chintzy lampshades brought to Pock by Kath in the tour van driven by best friend Sarah Williams (who will be doing sterling work on the merch stall each night too).
His lyric “Flowers don’t decide where they grow from” caught the ear early on, and the politest protest song ever to grace these isles, We Will Die On This Hill, stood out with its celebration of the Right To Roam protestors’ UK Supreme Court triumph over their Dartmoor landlords, Alexander and Diana Darwall, in May 2025.
Memphis, by the way, has felt emboldened to send the ramblers his song; let’s hope they now sing it lustily as they ramble on, like Led Zeppelin were once wont to do.
Fuelled by a visit to Atlas, Pocklington’s artisan sourdough bakery and cafe in St Peter’s Square, Kath took to the stage where she had first played 25 years ago and had performed too when pregnant with son Ted (now present in long-haired teenage form in Friday’s audience with his shared love of music, especially T Rex and Big Thief’s Adrianne Lenker).
As the tour title indicated, Kath concentrated her set on last September’s Mystery Park, her 18th album (if you include collaborations) in a career launched with cassette tapes at early gigs and her 1989 debut Dog Leap Stairs, made for £80.
For all her collaborations with Paul Weller, Ed Harcourt, Polly Paulusma, Dame Carol Ann Duffy, Neil MacColl, Withered Hand’s Dan Wilson, Beth Nielsen Chapman and The Pond, her 12 years of hosting songwriting retreats for the Arvon Foundation, her bed-themed podcast Before The Light Goes Out, her 2021 novel The Ormering Tide and her art exhibitions at Start-Yard, Birkenhead and the Biscuit Factory (from May 8), there is still a delightfully cottage industry vibe to polymath Kath.
After all these years, her performance demeanour remains natural, at times almost apologetic, not afraid to fluff a guitar line, to consult her notes when setting up her Mellotron, or to make light of a request to adjust its M-shaped light to pink after its white brightness had dazzled one front-row occupant.
Kath loves a joke, a wry observation, a conspiratorial quip, a local reference or two, putting everyone at ease when faced both by Pocklington’s notoriously quietly appreciative audience and the first-night bedding-in of an admirably unflustered Memphis.
“I have a hole in my lip…I always drip,” she said with disarming rhyming candour. “It’s humbling when someone who’s played your songs for a day knows them better than you do,” she admitted after one sudden stop.
Turning 52 on Monday this week, Kath is now writing her most personal songs, rooted in motherhood and memory. “I think this album, more than anything, is a reflection of where I am in my life,” she told CharlesHutchPress in this week’s interview.
“A lot of songs on my other albums are works of imagination, flights of fancy, with fragments of what I’ve been doing. But this one places me on the bridge between parents getting older and kids getting older, and feeling that pull both ways.”
Alongside such high points as Goodbye To Summer, Gossamer Wings – co-written with “a young man who really needs your support, Paul Weller” – and a Big Thief cover, at the core of Friday’s set were three family reflections. Firstly, Sea Of Shadows, with its time-travelling account of eldest son Louis growing up in a story built around a sheriff’s star.
Next, This Mystery, a beautifully tender response to her father’s dementia and Parkinson’s Disease, in part inspired by the sight of a lorry driving over a vinyl record, smashing into fragments like dementia’s impact on our minds. “Well, that’s the happy songs over,” she deadpanned.
Lastly, Servant Of The Flame, for son Ted, with his love of playing computer games again and again, as she watched by his side, a line Kath repeated over and again as she pulled away from the microphone, until falling silent, just as Ted would fall into slumber.
Yes, these songs are personal, but they have that quality that Kath cherishes above all others in concert: connectivity.
She will remember Pocklington, February 20 2026 as “the night of the floppy plectrum” (when replacing a harder one that she gave to an audience member”, but also as the night when another commented the gig had made her “very happy”.
“I hope to see you in another 25 years,” Kath said at the close. “Hopefully they’ll have put some stair lifts in.”
