The applause is most surprising for a reception, and when he gets into 'Motel Blues', the time comes for the audience to drop the barrier, and laugh at his humour, and he digs that. It's simplicity, as though he were making the words up as he went along, as though he were seeing things right there and then that rhythmed, rhyming often in the cutest way. It's come to my mind that there's more roads in America than there in England, and for some reason there's a lot of skunks about this time of year. They walk over the road, and they get killed, and like every three miles you can smell a skunk. Now this is a singalong song.
Mirth fills the room.
Now come on, I don't know if the Press singalong. Well, look here, just pretend I'm Pete Seeger. Somehow one gets the feeling you've just seen something you'll remember for a long time, especially when Loudon Wainwright's big and famous. Which he will be. This was a wonderful reception, ruled by a man with humour and confidence, and unmistakable talent, who didn't wear jeans, and who was far from cool.