Duke Special – Live at The Tuppenny, Swindon, 25th Nov ’25 (reviewed by Dave Franklin)

You are obviously doing something right when, without public proclamation or posters or posts, you can fill a venue to the brim on a cold Tuesday night in November. But then this was no ordinary booking, this was something a bit special…Duke Special, in fact. More often found playing places like Glastonbury, The Royal Albert Hall, Last Night of the Proms or Later with Jools Holland, word of mouth was enough to pack the place and by the time this duo of Pete Wilson (the titular Duke) on piano and vocals and Chip Bailey on drums, percussion, squeaky toys, driftwood, and other hittable detritus took to the stage, they did so to a keen and tightly packed audience.

Before last night, I wasn’t that familiar with his songs, but you could argue that makes me well placed to write the review, an open mind, no agenda, just waiting for the music to wash over me. And it was over me, it did. Theirs is, and is certainly delivered in this intimate and stripped-back way, an often graceful affair, with deft and delicate piano lines gently underlined by equally deft and delicate beats. That isn’t to say that they don’t have fun, the songs where Chip emerges from behind the kit, picks up his homemade and found percussion, almost turn into performance art, but it is in the more elegant and eloquent songs where I feel Duke Special’s true heart lies.

And these are not merely songs, Pete Wilson is an archivist, a curious explorer of music’s past, born out by the explanation of some of their backstory’s, one based on 16th century melodies, some music collected from The Princess Grace Irish Library (as in Kelly) and treating us to a triptych of Kurt Weill songs in all their wonky, Brechtian glory.

As the second set rolls on, the noisier crowd, the curse of the pub venue everywhere, those who perhaps have turned up to be seen, rather than to listen, has moved off, and the music is received in a sort of (fairly) hushed reverence, which is more suited to a performance where you wish to hear every poised piano note, hang on every well-chosen turn of phrase, appreciate every perfectly positioned beat. But things end all too soon, as is often the way with such brilliant gigs. (Although, if you were one of the few who didn’t rush off into the night immediately as the last note faded out, you would have been treated to Pete doing one final song around the pub piano at the other end of the room.)

These are songs from the heart, songs exploring the human condition, the music of love and longing and loss and life itself. Duke Special is someone who observes, absorbs and then turns those experiences into the music of life. Often songs that feel as humble, and indeed humbling, and as gentle as the man himself.

And so, all there was left to do was wend my way home, slightly “in my cups”, clutching a vinyl copy of Blood For Ghosts, a CD of Duke Special Sings the Songs of Ruby Murray, and a reminder that sometimes, the most breath-taking experiences can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Photograph courtesy of Gideon Liddiard Photography