James Morrison @ The Barbican, York, 13th May 2026
- John Hayhurst
- May 14
- 3 min read
Twenty years on from Undiscovered, James Morrison revisits the record that took him out of carpet fitting jobs and into arenas.
Words and Photos - John Hayhurst
The Barbican is fully seated, though the atmosphere never settles into polite theatre silence. By the time James Morrison walks out in a plain green T-shirt and dark casual trousers, there’s already a strange running joke brewing about York’s American tourists mispronouncing city names. Morrison is chatting between songs like somebody catching up with old mates rather than working through a 20th anniversary tour.
Support act Cordelia had already set the tone beforehand with a short but strong opening slot. Armed with introspective folk-pop songs and stories about singing James Morrison tracks in her bedroom growing up, her appearance on this tour genuinely felt like a full-circle moment rather than standard support-slot flattery. You could hear the influence too — traces of Joni Mitchell-style phrasing mixed into modern singer-songwriter writing.
That suits James Morrison’s material too. Undiscovered has always carried that open-hearted mid-2000s songwriting style without sounding overly polished, and hearing it two decades later gives the songs a different weight. Before his debut album landed, Morrison was fitting carpets during the day, driving endlessly to London for label meetings at night, gambling everything on music before anybody outside the open mic circuit knew his name.
He opens with ‘Under The Influence’, the first track from the album, and the band immediately gives the night lift. Two backing singers do a huge amount of work across the set, thickening choruses and adding gospel touches that stop the slower moments dragging. Morrison himself still has that rough-edged vocal that made him stand out in the first place. There are points where the grit in his voice edges towards Rod Stewart territory; elsewhere there’s the smoky ache of Kelly Jones. Either way, it still cuts through cleanly.
Interestingly, Undiscovered isn’t played in strict order. Instead, Morrison shifts tracks around and threads in later hits to stop the evening becoming too locked into nostalgia. The title track ‘Undiscovered’ arrives early though, second in the set, and sounds bigger than it ever did on record. In a seated room full of people who clearly grew up with these songs, the chorus lands instantly. No prompting needed.
He keeps the pacing smart. The heavier emotional material is broken up with warm crowd interaction and songs from later albums, including a particularly strong ‘Precious Love’ from Songs for You, Truths for Me. On ‘Broken Strings’ the duet stretches out more here, giving the groove room to breathe while Morrison steps back and lets the backing vocalist carry sections of the chorus.
Even in a seated venue, people are constantly singing back. There’s little movement beyond clapping and heads nodding in time, but it never feels stiff. Morrison’s low-key stage presence helps. No dramatic gestures, no forced sentimentality. Just sharp songs delivered properly.
The rarely played tracks from Undiscovered are some of the night’s strongest moments. ‘One Last Chance’ and ‘How Come’ avoid sounding like forgotten deep cuts dragged out for completists. Instead, they underline how confident that debut actually was. Listening back now, it’s slightly mad to think this was written by somebody still bouncing between work shifts and open mic nights.
By the closing stretch, Morrison looks completely at ease — laughing, chatting, occasionally drifting off into another story about York or the crowd before remembering there’s still a set to finish. Managing to fit in ‘Little Wings’ from his latest album ‘Fight Another Day’ before ‘Wonderful World’ closed the encore.
Twenty years later, Undiscovered no longer sounds like the start of something uncertain. It sounds like a record that already knew exactly where it was heading.
