Without fanfare, Louis stepped quietly, unannounced, onto the stage. He took his place behind the piano and began to slowly fondle the keys, extending his fingers into the keyboard and filling the room with a rollercoaster of notes.
What followed was a journey through the old, the new and the poetic. The two sets that he kindly offered were full of bluesy groove, jazz notes and swing; all delivered in the tones of an underground cabaret that just screeched dirty, gritty punk, but nice, like.
There was plenty of enthusiasm from the crowd with choruses filled in sweetly for favourites like Sailors Dream and Clock on the Wall; but mostly there was just dripping admiration at the mastery of a rare solo master performance that we were all privileged to share.
The show finished up too soon with a bit of tender musical poetry which was so in keeping with the unassuming humility from the quietly spoken “giant”.