Beth Jeans Houghton

Falling from the Umbra of a solar eclipse is no ordinary birth, yet Beth Jeans Houghton is no ordinary gal. I mean, everybody knows that strange things happen when the Sun and the Moon get together, but an immaculate lunar conception just didn’t seem on the cards: the moon’s been barren for eons for a start, plus there’s the added problem of alternate shift patterns.

But with a little help from the summer solstice and a regimented approach to Mother Nature’s fertility shakes, the impossible became a reality and a Beth was born.

Realising that space was no place to rear a Beth, the moon reluctantly released its new born child to the warmer climates of Earth. As she began to tear through the atmosphere in a specially crafted vessel made from moon twine and pieces of Kafka’s hat, Beth was plucked from the air, just before impact by a pair of boney hands. Confused as to what was afoot, she began to untie the twine, pealing off strips of hat like thinker’s skin. What follows beggars belief.

She’d been caught, mid-flight, by the hands of the Skinny Bone Tree, who plucked her from her lofty perch with a smile, all the while, singing in Bone. He then handed her an ivory Fender and told her to follow her nose.

She had acquired a fine nose for directions, and her eyes seemed to work, if a little slack from the trip, but it was her voice that would set her apart from all other Beths.

With her nose at the helm, she began a’ walking and soon became acquainted with an old blues guy she found at the stoop on the Forgotten Path. Trampy Thin Blankets would now become her mentor and he was preparing her for the road.

But first, she’d need a shadow.

She’d been robbed of hers by the manor of her inception but Thin Blankets insisted she’d need a shadow to feel complete. She tried all sorts: hill shadows; blanket shadows; sun-dial shadows; the shadow of a leek; she even tried on the reflection of a trout stream, but none of them seemed to fit… until one night, after eating too much cheese and drinking port with Thin Blankets she met herself in a dream. After a complementary handshake and brief discussion about nothing to do with shadows, Beth cut to the chase, and made a risky wager with herself. One game of Pop Up Pirate – winner takes all.

If Beth wins, she gets the shadow. If dream Beth wins, she gets to be real Beth.

Nobody’s entirely sure who won to be honest, but on her awakening, Beth was definitely real, and she’d also acquired the required to hit the road. She began to wander from town-to-town, village-to-village, playing the drawings in her mind to the locals. A few barnstorming gigs and complementary reviews later she was on her way to the Big Smoke and felt nice about it.

Soon tales of a wandering singer-songwriter with Sun kissed hair began to manifest and her reputation as an enigmatic artist began to blossom… But that was ages ago, and now Beth and Her Band, The Hooves of Destiny, comfortably shares stages with modern stalwarts like Adem, Bon Iver and Devendra Banhart. She continues to receive critical acclaim from the likes of BBC 6’s Marc Riley and Mojo Editor Phil Alexander and is currently touring the UK while on the cusp of her eagerly awaited EP release, …………. More recently though, Beth has been spending her spare time conjuring up a devious plot to steal Nick Cave’s moustache.

She is also well aware that it’s on pretty tight but isn’t bothered.

She, who dares, wins…