Up in the land of Newky Brown and whippet racing there exists ‘The Lindisfarne Factor’. As ambassadors of professional Geordieness, their Christmas season at Newcastle City Hall gets longer by the year and plans are for the 1980 edition to include a Guy Fawkes party. Every record release, every gig, every fart must be the subject of inept interview or cliché promo clip. The only northeast telly programme that Lindisfarne haven’t appeared on is Farming Outlook. Hip credibility they don’t have.

Being hoho heroes in a small pool, the band are so well and truly stuck with their regional identity that Phonogram have apparently given them the boot. Instead, they’ve plucked frontman Ray Jackson temporarily away from the Fab Five in an attempt to launch him as a soloist. Chris Rea meets Gerry Rafferty in Hall and Oates’s living room. As Rafferty is one of the few figures of the past years to grab a slice of the married and mortgaged brigade, somebody’s decided that Jacka would also probably fit in there somewhere. To seal the deal in comes Rafferty producer Hugh Murphy, a couple of Rafferty sidemen and even GR himself to contribute backing vocals. 

Jacka’s version of sweet soul mainly show up on the numbers he co-wrote with Charlie Harcourt, another NE veteran. For the most part smooth and classy, they show Jackson doing what he does best, getting to grips with a good song, like Daryl Hall without the idiosyncratic pleadings. In The Night itself could be a Chris Rea song, all taut and compelling but the credit reads ‘Bowkett’. Wonder who he is.

Toss in some sophisticated covers (and toss out Little Town Flirt. Please.) and In The Night shapes up as a conservative but album. (sic) But one that I suspect would be received with a lot more enthusiasm if Jacka had put it out under a different name.