The Last of the Crooners: Meet the jazz-singing locals of the East End pub that's defying gentrification

The Palm Tree is one of the last East End boozers where you can still drop in for a knees-up round the piano – a fast-disappearing tradition caught by photographer Tom Oldham

Colin Anthony is a regular at the Palm Tree pub in London's East End (Tom Oldham)

Take a walk up the Regent’s Canal in London, from Mile End to the Roman Road, and you will come across a pub standing solitary on the towpath. On a summer’s day punters loll on the grass watching the barges chug past. On a winter’s night, orange light pours out of the windows like whisky or a warm welcome.

And as you draw closer, you hear something else inviting you in.

Music. Real music. Played by real musicians. Ones who know their craft and their way around the old favourites – the jazz standards of the Great American Songbook. People who display that defining grace of true musicians – a subtle give-and-take and generosity in the interplay of their performances.

There was a time when the pubs of London were alive with such music – nowhere more so than in the East End. Singers sang, and pianos weren’t just period features. They were there to be used, and some of them even got a tuning now and then.

Time, trends and property prices may have taken their toll on this once vibrant scene, but one local favourite takes pleasure in bucking such trends.

Robert Ball sings up a storm in the Palm Tree (Tom Oldham)

This pub is The Palm Tree – diamond boozer, Blitz survivor, and home of The Last of the Crooners. No ticket required. No doormen keeping the peace. Just say hello to devoted publicans Val and Alf Barrett and their family, buy a drink or two and enjoy the show.

Every Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings for the last 40 years this pub has hosted an incredible array of professional jazz singers. It has remained impressively consistent.

But tastes change, areas evolve, demographics shift, traditions fade away – and I can’t think of many places that have been more struck by gentrification than east London.

Inspired by this rate of change, I felt like it was time to document the place and the characters that come and perform here, and very graciously Val and Alf, the landlord and landlady, agreed.

The result is The Last of the Crooners: a series of portraits from the Palm Tree, plus an accompanying limited vinyl pressing of the regulars performing in the pub, which will be released on Record Store Day, 21 April. We’ll be marking the occasion with a knees up at the pub, naturally.

The project – which has been shortlisted for the 2018 Sony World Photography Awards – came about because I just couldn’t not do it. The characters are so incredible, and they really deserve this: the way they pour their hearts and souls into the songs is just glorious to capture.

The Palm Tree has been my local and favourite pub for years now. It’s where my now wife and I had our first date.

The atmosphere is compelling; there’s an intimate and comforting feeling of safety and security for locals, regulars, hipsters, and the simply curious alike.

We shot the project with lighting as true to the mood of the place as we possibly could. It has a unique feel and it was really important that its integrity was represented by the portraits.

The Last of The Crooners represents the passing of time. It shows characters who fame and glory may have missed, but who are still celebrated and appreciated at The Palm Tree.

Charlie, 81

Charlie, a regular singer at the Palm Tree (Tom Oldham)

“During the Second World War, people would be down in the tube stations and they’d say ‘let Charlie have a song’. That’s how I started. Playing happy music, drinking, and talking.

“I used to come here after this other pub closed, in the early ‘70s. People were suited and booted and it was a good place to be, to hear more good music.

“All the pubs along the canal had music and this was a beacon. It was a community.

“That piano hasn’t changed since I first came here, and now and again they tune it.

“Whatever you think about it, this is the end of the line. I haven’t got too long to go on and I feel privileged to have been a Londoner and part of the East End. Now, the Cockneys are long gone.”

Harry, 78

Harry Stratford sings at the Palm Tree (Tom Oldham)

“I’ve worked here since the 1970s and this was all houses. Somebody rung me up and said, ‘we hear you sing, would you kindly give us a dose of your singing at the Palm Tree’. There was lovely musicians, lovely pianists. You cannot work with rough pianists!

“Wonderful times we’ve had in there, with people from all over the world. I’ve never seen trouble in all the years I’ve worked here.”

Helen, 81

(Tom Oldham)

“I’m from Vallance Road where the Krays lived, they were my neighbours. I’ve always sung. It’s relaxing and not like hard work. I did the last Sunday of the month for 28 years. I’ve only just turned it in.

“The crowd has changed all the time, people would die, move, things changed. It’s always fresh, always good, and there’s always entertainment here. It’s a good standard of musicians and singers here. We do what we do and we hope people like it.”

Jack, 90

(Tom Oldham)

“I started playing when I was seven. After National Service, I turned professional musician in 1949, 68 years ago. I played with Vera Lynn for 19 years. This is one of the only jobs left! It’s the only one I ever hear about. When people say they’ve got a gig in the pub, it’s always this one!”

Shareen, 62

(Tom Oldham)

“I’ve always sung, since I was four or five. I can’t remember how I came to know the Palm Tree but I’ve been coming once a month for 20 years. It’s amazing because it’s so authentic and has such a lovely atmosphere.

“When I first started here they were all very glamorous with big hair and diamante earrings… and a few gangsters.

“This is the only gig like this. It needs to carry on.”

All pictures by Tom Oldham; ‘The Last of the Crooners’ photography exhibition opening and album launch will take place at the Palm Tree, 21 April