Shortly after this year's Mercury prize nominations were announced, one nominee, Damon Albarn's Gorillaz, withdrew from the competition. The press called it a publicity stunt, but the reason may have been superstition. Since its inception, the Mercury prize has displayed an uncanny ability to undo the careers of those who win it. M People split up, and whatever became of Talvin Singh, surprise 1999 winner? Perhaps Albarn knows something we don't.
The only artist whose career has been genuinely bolstered by the Mercury is Kathryn Williams, last year's rank outsider with her second album Little Black Numbers. Despite the obvious quality of her lilting, folky songwriting, Williams was a virtual unknown, releasing records on her own label Caw and barely scraping together the £200 entrance fee. She didn't win, but one year on Williams has a contract with a major label, which is currently re-promoting Little Black Numbers with an eye on the singer-songwriter market of David Gray.
Anyone who saw the short BBC2 documentary made around the time of her Mercury nomination may wonder if Williams is equipped to cope with celebrity: she appeared bewildered and racked by nerves throughout. Tonight, however, she proves to have a guileless charm onstage. The fey atmosphere that usually pervades all-acoustic concerts is undercut by her disarmingly frank manner. Returning to the stage for an encore, she announces to startled applause that she has "just been for the biggest piss ever".
Williams's voice is undeniably tender, especially when supported by genteel cellos and flugelhorns, but her songs are as tough as her between-song banter. Flicker and We Dug a Hole set steely dissections of relationships to delicious Nick Drake-influenced melodies. It's a warm, moving, human performance, devoid of the preciousness that hampers her peers in the much-hyped new acoustic movement.
Williams is as deserving of a mass audience as anyone signed by a major label this year. There seems no reason why she shouldn't find just that. Mercury prize curse permitting, of course.
