The 22-20s, Cathy Davey and Willy Mason - Thursday 14th October - Sweet n Sour at The Welly By Andy Dykes Photos by Darren Rogers

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Outside The Welly Club tonight, people huddle together or dance absent-mindedly on the spot. It's dark and it's cold. But there's good reason to be braving the elements tonight. The buzz surrounding The 22-20s is increasing so steadily, it's becoming more like a roar. And the interest isn't lost on the good people of Hull who flock to The Welly tonight, eager to catch a glimpse of the British scene's fastest rising stars. It won't be long before the shows this band play will be more about the bandwagon than the band.

First up though is Willy Mason. The stage is pitch black as he picks up his acoustic and starts playing. The music on the sound system is turned down sharply. And the stage is still black. There's only an acoustic guitar being played, but man it sounds full. The lights come on just before he begins to sing.

Willy Mason is a young American man with a deep, resonant voice, a country-blues guitar style, and the ability to write songs like Johnny Cash, Lee Hazlewood and Nick Drake all rolled into one. It makes for great listening, and combined with his easy-going charisma, it makes for the best one-man-and-a-guitar show I've seen in a long time. Perhaps it's due to the fact that The Welly is rapidly filling, but the interest in Willy Mason increases sharply as his set progresses. Set closer 'Oxygen' is awesome: a beautifully melodic collection of wise, interesting, thought provoking and touching words.

I picture him a few years down the line, sitting on a stool in front of thousands of people, just him and a guitar. Like James Taylor, but with a real man's voice. I for one would like to see and hear more.

Cathy Davey must be doing well for herself. I spotted an album by her in a shop in town the other day. I contemplated making a purchase, but the financial cloud that hangs over me spat forth a bolt of lightning that knocked the CD case from my grasp. My personal anguish aside, it's easy to see why the young lady is making such headway in the music industry.

Cathy Davey's songs range from radio friendly Catatonia-esque pop - her voice sometimes does contain more than a hint of Cerys Matthews - to the ear-bending confusion of the likes of PJ Harvey. It's a good range of songwriting ability to have: something for everyone, so to speak. There are the quirky, plinky-plonk piano numbers with more hooks than a fisherman's bait box, that sound like they could be bothering the charts with the right degree of marketing.

And on the other side of the coin, there are those songs that rock in every way imaginable. By that I mean they rock vocally, instrumentally, and also in the challenge that they present to the listener in the clever awkwardness that they take on at times.

My only disappointment is that while the music is unquestionably good, Cathy Davey's live performance does nothing to grab the audience. When she rocks, she does so in a way that's not particularly compelling. When she's a little more heartfelt, she looks a bit bored. But maybe that's just tonight. Cathy Davey is an unquestionably good song writer, and one to watch for the future. BOOM! The 22-20s are on, and from the off it's hi-octane stuff. The opening few tracks beat like a heart and The Welly's pulsing with life.

The 22-20s sound like The Doors if they'd taken drugs worth taking and sacked off that fucking Hammond organ. When they slow down a little, they sound a little ponderous, somewhere between Oasis and Nirvana if you can imagine it, but on the whole they rock pretty hard.

However, at their more tender moments, The 22-20s sound a little tame: a bit early 90s indie, a bit Shed 7. It sounds nice, but that's it. And when the singer cracks out the acoustic for a mildly self indulgent solo number, people seem to lose interest. There's nothing much going on, and the rest of the band look bored, despite the words of wisdom being sung - perhaps about throwing caution to the wind as far as fame and fortune are concerned.

But such placid moments are relatively short lived and what follows sounds like a Yeah Yeah Yeahs number being played by Marilyn Manson, but somehow with a big slice of the blues in there for good measure. In short, it's adrenalin fuelled rock n roll. And then, the set closer totally rocks. It may be as simple as all of the instruments following each other on a repetitive chord sequence, but it gets the crowd grooving to the funky riff at its root. And they throw in a jazzy piano solo for good measure. Then, without fuss or aplomb, they leave the stage. All in all, a pretty good night.

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