Tuesday 30 April 2013

Meat Loaf–Sheffield Arena, 19/04/13

On my last birthday I was asked, if I could only choose one album to play that day, what would it be? It didn’t take me long to reply with Bat Out Of Hell. I gave a slightly flippant reason but, while I admit that I have better albums in my collection, Meat Loaf’s second and probably most famous album is definitely one of my favourites. It’s been in my collection, in one form or another since the early 80s and no matter how long I go between playing it, I can “sing” along to every word. I love the whole rock opera sound of the album, the power, the passion, the emotion. I love the whole cheesiness of it. I own a fair few of Meat Loaf’s albums and I don’t think he’s topped Bat Out Of Hell, even though it doesn’t include the best track written for him by Jim Steinman (that’s Objects In The Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are, from the 1993 “sequel” album, which is the only one that comes close to the original). I have seen Meat Loaf live before, back when I was a semi-regular arena attendee but the announcement that the current tour was to be his last and that the whole of Bat Out Of Hell would be played was enough to convince me to splash out for tickets (yes, plural – we went as a family) for my first arena concert for many a year and, indeed, my first gig out of York since I saw Chris Rea in Harrogate some eight years ago. The previous two dates on the tour had been postponed (one at very short notice) due to an illness that laid all but one of the band low but, a couple of days earlier, tonight’s gig had been confirmed as going ahead.

We arrived early and, after a bite to eat, joined the queue’s waiting in the slight drizzle for the doors to open. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before we were inside and in our seats – lower tier, front half of the auditorium, good view of the stage. Slightly disappointing was the fact that Elizabeth, who had been saying she was looking forward to the gig, admitted that she wasn’t really that excited. Personally, I think it was just the fact that there was quite a wait before the show started and she didn’t have her phone or Nintendo with her as, once it started, she definitely seemed to be having a good time.

I’m not going to admit to missing arena concerts, but there is a certain frisson when the lights go down and the crowd erupts. Strangely, tonight, this was followed by a recording of When I’m 64 – presumably a reference to Meat Loaf’s advancing age, even though he is actually 65…

The first half of the gig was, effectively, a “best of”, opening with Runnin’ For The Red Light which segued straight into Life Is A Lemon (And I Want My Money Back) which was followed, without a break, Deadringer For Love. The latter was a duet with long-time collaborator and backing singer Patti Russo – her voluminous black curls making her a near-clone of both Cher and previous backing singers. (She may even have been the backing singer the last time I saw him.) Meat Loaf himself didn’t so much look old as tired, his vocals slightly lacking clarity and definitely not as powerful as they once were, although some of that power returned during If It Ain’t Broke, Break It. The hand holding the microphone frequently shakes, at first it seemed that he was doing it deliberately, to produce some vocal effect. As the gig went on, though, he could frequently be seen holding that arm with his other to stop it shaking. Debbie wondered whether he was suffering from Parkinson’s Disease, but I can find no evidence. In fact, there are references to it being a deliberate act. During this set, the song were accompanied by videos on a giant screen at the back of the stage – repetitive imagery for the most part, although the video for Los Angeloser, featuring young women in tight police “uniforms” (with slightly less material than the real things) could, perhaps, have been described as slightly saucy. The Giving Tree was the only song of the set that I didn’t recognise as it comes from last year’s Hell In A Handbasket, an album I don’t yet have. (I’m not going to lie, I didn’t even know it existed until researching this post…) Its closing instrumental section led directly into a Justin Avery piano solo which, in turn, led into Objects In The Rearview Mirror. Sadly not only was this not introduced as “the best song Jim Steinman has ever written”, as it was last time I saw it performed live, but it was a cut-down version, missing the middle verse despite being accompanied by what seemed to be the video for the song which included the imagery for the missing lines. This was the first song that Meat Loaf sang while seated on a stool, delivering a passionate performance of an emotional song before upping the tempo again with Out Of The Frying Pan (And Into The Fire) which featured a superb saxophone solo from Dave Luther, with Meat Loaf playing up to the crowd, wondering why every time he indicated Luther, who had come to the front of the stage, he got a bigger ovation that Meat Loaf himself did. The crowd were only too pleased to play along. After just eight songs, but an amazing seventy-five minutes, the band left the stage with the video screen proclaiming that they would be back in fifteen minutes and that Bat Out Of Hell was coming.

As the lights went down for the second half of the set the video screen sprang to life again, this time with details of the Bat Out Of Hell album – release date, number of copies, etc. Avery once again tinkled the ivories before the stage burst into light and the band burst into the introduction to the title track. Meat Loaf wandered onto stage, dressed in ruff-fronted shirt and carrying a red handkerchief. As his vocals started he was joined by a mass sing-along from the audience. Russo was going wild in the background and a huge bat, replete with fiery red eyes was being inflated at the back of the stage. At least one roadie could be glimpsed scurrying around smoothing the kinks out of the giant, outstretched wings. Meat Loaf was giving it his all and the vocal power seemed to be back, even if he was being helped by most of the 15,000-strong crowd. The final note may not have been held for as long, or as steadily, as in the past, but it’s doubtful anybody cared. Between each song video snippets were played, Jim Steinman, producer Todd Rungren, Ellen Foley (the original “Stop Right There” girl), Karla DeVito (who sang the duet live and lip-synced Foley in the video), Max Weinberg (from the E-Street Band and drummer on Bat Out Of Hell) and others gave short recollections of their roles on the album. The screen was also used for the spoken word introduction of You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth, the slightly fuzzy old footage (and big hair) invoking a feeling of nostalgia. During the song the tone of the vocals changed again, rightly becoming more emotive than powerful. The emotion continued as Meat Loaf once again took to a stool and dedicated Heaven Can Wait to the people of Boston, tearfully calling for “less hate and more love” in reference to the horrific events of a few days earlier and, still tearful, thanking the crowd for allowing him, a sixty-five-year old, to come back one more time. The song featured a lovely acoustic guitar section but the emotional content was spoiled slightly by the two Geordie women behind me who spent a good part of it, two-pint drinks in hand, chatting loudly about nothing in particular. It should come as no surprise that All Revved Up With No Place To Go came next, with Meat Loaf seemingly coping well with the ever-faster vocals. The next video snippet had Steinman explaining how he had been challenged to write a simple song, something along the lines of Elvis’ I Want You, I Need You, I Love You. The result was Two Out Of Three Ain’t Bad the lyrics of which we were encouraged to listen to closely as it’s a story of two people, not necessarily just the one that everybody thinks. Tonight’s performance was extended to include an instrumental section, played while Meat Loaf rested against one of the raised sections on stage, giving the impression that he was using the break to catch his breath. The crowd was still fully behind him and nobody could have said that he wasn’t giving his all to the performance. It was just that his all wasn’t quite as much as it used to be. More video revelations followed, with DeVito remembering how Meat Loaf used to stick his tongue “right down” her throat during live performances of Paradise By The Dashboard Light. Russo returned to stage for the duet dressed in fifties style and the whole thing was just a bit more noddingly theatrical than I have seen it in the past, with another huge inflatable, this one a bit more saucy than the bat, appearing at the back of the stage. Before the final song, Meat Loaf himself explained that Bat Out Of Hell first entered the charts in April ‘78 at number 9, the highest position it would attain and that, two weeks before tonight, it had re-entered at the same position and stayed there this week. Full of emotion again he declared that the album belonged to the fans who are passionate about it and that he was happy with the fact that there are people who don’t like it because, in it’s own way, that is also bringing out the passion in them. A white grand piano had appeared on stage and, over a gentle introduction, he explained, once more in tears he explained that he thought that For Crying Out Loud was the greatest love song ever written and that he had cried almost every time he sang it. There was no denying the passion he put across during tonight’s performance.

After all that the encore could have been an anti-climax. However, after a teasing piano introduction and with the screen showing the Hammer-inspired video the band  launched into I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That), Russo again taking up duet duties, this time looking even more ravishing in black evening gown and long black gloves. Boneyard followed – I didn’t recognise it as it was an iTunes exclusive and B-side to Los Angeloser – another duet but this time with Avery before an instrumental section which included a brief burst of Freebird. More inflatables appeared dotted around the stage, this time caricatures of the various band members in the form of those long thin men you sometimes see outside car showrooms. During this section, Meat Loaf used a penis-shaped gun to fire t-shirts into the audience – thankfully Elizabeth wondered what was being fired and didn’t seem to notice the strange shape of the gun itself. A final quick burst of All Revved Up… brought the encore, and the night, to a close.

A few people have asked me, “How was Meat Loaf?” and I’ve given them all the same answer. I’m no boxing fan but think back to how you felt when you saw Ali light the flame at the 1996 Olympics. I didn’t quite feel the same way tonight, but I was getting there. As I’ve said, there can be no denying the passion and commitment that was on show tonight and it might be that the tired look was consequence of the illness that had swept the band, but I couldn’t help feel glad, in some ways, that this was a farewell tour. I’m glad I went, I’m glad I took Elizabeth for the experience and we all enjoyed it, but I’m also glad that he’s decided to call it a day and finish with as much dignity as possible.

Monday 22 April 2013

David Knopfler–The Duchess, 18/04/13

If I hadn’t already bought a ticket for tonight’s gig, I doubt I would have gone. The previous night’s strong winds (or, rather, the noises the house made because of the wind) had kept me awake most of that night and, being frank, I was knackered. But I had a ticket and, being a Yorkshireman, I wasn’t going to waste it.

Tonight was one of those times that The Duchess populated its floor with a collection of chairs, sofas and tables, with candles providing a certain ambience. Arguably it was a good move as it made the place look a bit fuller than it would have done if the small crowd had all been standing. With a bottle of Hobgoblin in hand, I took up position on one of the small sofas and settled down to enjoy the gig.

The first thing that struck me when See Through Eyes came to the stage was that Matt Smith (Doctor Who) had been de-aged and had, apparently, taken up keyboards. It turns out, however, that it wasn’t him, but Dan Mathieson who, along with Sam Ayres (guitar and vocals), Andy Richards (guitar) and John Azopardi (cajon and vocals) make up this York-based alternative rock band. Their first song, I Love You (But Please Stop Talking To Me), started off well but seemed to lose a little momentum in the middle. You Made Me had a bigger sound with some nice guitar work, with both guitarists switching between strumming chords and single note effects. So far, over the music, Ayres’ vocals had come across as a little strained but a cover of Chasing Cars showed that, with a softer sound all round, they could be much better. The next song, which I think was called The Song That Is Saddest continued the upswing in quality but was spoiled slightly by some over-complicated keyboard sounds that seemed to be pulling against the rest of the song, although the whole thing came together brilliantly in a short instrumental section towards the end. Fable was being played live for the first time and was another step up in both ambition and quality. Again the lead vocals were a little strained in places but overall they were good and the larger vocal contribution from Azopardi, weaving in and out of those of Ayres, created some nice harmonies. Final song The River started more gently but built in a fascinating way. Few bands manage to play a set in which the quality rises throughout but See Through Eyes certainly managed it tonight. They reminded me a little of Pelico, but with bigger songs. The band has only been together since 2011 and despite, in my opinion, needing a little more polish they show definite promise.

It probably comes as no surprise that David Knopfler has a slightly more famous brother and they founded a band together back in the 70’s, with David playing on the first two albums before leaving during the recording of Making Movies in 1980 and pursuing a solo career. Tonight he is joined on stage by Harry Bogdanovs and they switch between playing as two guitarists (generally Knopfler on rhythm and Bogdanovs on lead) or, at times, with one or the other on keyboards. The set was delayed for a few minutes while the spaghetti of cables across the front of the stage was sorted out but when it did start, Knopfler produced some lovely mellow vocals which had a slight hint of Dire Straits to them, his singing voice sounding eerily like Mark’s even though there was little hint of the expected regional accent when he spoke. Somewhat appropriately, given the events in Boston a few days earlier, the song, which wasn’t introduced, included the lyrics “sometimes people can be mean.” Knopfler spends a lot of time in America these days and I wonder if the choice of song was deliberate. The next song was introduced with something along the lines of, “I used to be in a beat group, between the wars. Here’s something you might recognise,” and turned out to be Wild West End, a Dire Straits song I’m not familiar with. Knopfler took up a twelve-string guitar for Deptford Days, explaining that Deptford is where he met Bogdanovs many years ago. The lyrics seem to explain how they met and how their friendship grew. Perhaps unfortunately, both this song and the next, King Of Ashes, had a feeling of Dire Straits unplugged – not necessarily a bad thing from my point of view, but I would question whether Knopfler would want to be forever associated with his former band in that way. A switch to keyboards for Hard Times In Idaho, however, changed the sound a lot. A new song, the lack of lighting around the keyboard didn’t help Knopfler see the lyrics (he played most of the set with a music stand, presumably holding the lyrics, close by) and there was a suggestion that he might have to “wing it”, but the story of an old man riding his horse through the Idaho Winter was beautiful in its simplicity, while If God Could Make The Angels was quite simply stunning in its beauty. The more up-tempo 4U is the duo’s “Rabbit Song”, a reference to the repeated “Run Rabbit Run” lyric. Me And Billy Crowe, was inspired by a friend’s wish that he could play with his childhood friend again. A catchy sort of Bluegrass song it changed the musical tone again and the audience needed little encouragement to clap along to the rhythm.

After a short break, the pair returned to the stage with Underland, a more political song inspired by the many American families being made homeless by the financial crisis with the occasional use of angry expletives countering the otherwise mellow vocals. Perhaps slightly strangely juxtaposed with it was Here In Genoseo, a sort of lullaby inspired by him discovering his young daughter writing “I Love Home” in crayon all over the family’s 1820s American House. This was followed by a song the music for which was written during the recording of the Dire Straits album Communique, although the lyrics were added much more recently. Comments he made before playing it, mentioning that Mark didn’t need any more songs or any more money, hinted that all is not right between the brothers but that is just supposition on my part and as Knopfler himself ended the comments with, “not relevant.” The song had a definite Dire Straits sound, as he explained it might do, so much so that you could almost hear Mark singing it. Tears Fall, another lovely song, was followed by Grace In The Gutter, during which Knopfler played a much more intricate guitar line than during most of the rest of the set. “Everybody has a Devil song and this is our rock and roll Faustus,” explained Knopfler before playing Easy Street, a brilliant song comprising of growly lyrics, blues style music and some great dual guitar-playing. The set ended with a song written by Knopfler and a friend in Nashville, with each of them having their own idea of what it should be about, meaning that the end result – America - is either a song about unrequited love or a diatribe against George W. Bush.

This was a nice, relaxing gig and that’s probably why I enjoyed it more than I expected to, given my state of mind as I left the house. Not only was the music excellent, but Knopfler took the time to explain the background to most of the songs, as well as exhibiting a nice dry sense of humour and an easy rapport with the audience. It’s well known that, at the end of most gigs, I buy a CD (or two, or three…) Tonight I was determined not to, for purely financial reasons. Phrases along the lines of, “I will be coming out to sign them” however, will always sway me and I walked away with a copy of Songs For The Siren. It turns out that it’s not a good idea to, accidentally, rub your thumb across a newly signed CD cover, though… (Thankfully, I missed the actual signature and managed to smudge just the dedication.)

Saturday 20 April 2013

Skid Row–Fibbers, 10/04/13

Photos included in this posting were taken by Marc McGarraghy, whose work can be found on Facebook or the Yellow Mustang website. Thanks, as always, go to him for allowing me to use them.

I often cite “heavy metal” as the musical genre I first started listening to in my formative years at secondary school. In reality, even if you discount the facts that a) a lot of the bands I was listening to were probably more rock than metal and b) I never really got into the heavier stuff of the time (AC/DC and Motorhead, for example), it was more of a dalliance before my friends ditched “heavy metal” for other genres and I decided that, rather than follow the crowd, I would simply like what I liked. In between then and now, I lost track of the genre and although there are still some examples in my CD collection, they tend to be older albums from established bands. Morpheus Rising, with their Iron Maiden influences, have piqued my interest recently but not only do I know little about which other bands are out there but, before a brief mention in AOR magazine (two issues of which I bought before realising that adding yet another magazine to an already crowded reading schedule was a non-starter), I hadn’t realised that tonight’s headliners weren’t, in fact, a punk band. In fact, it was only when reading up on them before tonight’s gig that I found out they were American…

All this is basically a precursor to say that the following review probably comes from even more of a position of ignorance than previous ones.

Buffalo Summer were already on stage, and Fibbers already pretty crowded, when I arrived. Hailing from South Wales, they have been compared to the likes of Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Free (as well as Stillwater, from the film Almost Famous). The impression I got was the blues-based rock of Whitesnake, with Andrew Hunt’s vocals definitely having a feel of David Coverdale. All the rock staples were present – the guitar solo of A Horse Called Freedom, a pounding drum-line on song that I didn’t catch the title of, thumping bass. I’m guessing that most, if not all, of the six song set came from the band’s self-titled debut album but Down To The River and Typhoid Mary were the only other titles I managed to hear. Those six songs, however, were enough to add that album to my wish list. The only criticism I have is that, contrary to some quotes I have seen, there didn’t seem to be much of a stage presence. Darren King on bass hardly moved and, towards the end of the set, Andrew Hunt looked, from where I was standing, slightly disinterested, wandering across the stage rather than prowling across it. Still that didn’t detract from the overall performance.

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Andrew Hunt and Darren King - Buffalo Summer

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By the time I Am I had taken to the stage we had moved much closer to the front. Both Rob (a very occasional gig-buddy) and I had the same thoughts when the band members started off with their backs to the audience – firstly, that this foreboded something which should be spectacular and secondly that, as a certain mobile device advert (which I seen for the first time just the night before) said, “wouldn’t they sound better facing the audience?”. Eventually they did turn round and vocalist ZP Theart joined them on stage. Despite the initially grinding guitar riff, a touch of “cookie monster” backing vocals from bass-player Neil Salmon and what seemed to be problems with Theart’s microphone (his vocals were barely audible, let alone being swamped by the music) theirs was more of an American style AOR sound and I was surprised to find out afterwards that the band come from the UK, albeit with members from the USA and Poland. Theart is, apparently well known as the frontman for Dragonforce and has previously performed in front of crowds of up to 85,000. Fibbers might have been filling rapidly, but there was nowhere near that number in tonight’s crowd. Not that that seemed to make any difference to Theart, who came across as a consummate showman, taking smiling ownership of the stage and, once the microphone issues had been fixed, producing some top-notch vocals. Again, most of the track came from the band’s debut album – Event Horizon – the hard rock of Cross The Line was followed by the slower Stay A While. Pave The Way featured some fantastic twin guitar work from Jacob Ziemba and Jake Thorsen, while Kiss Of Judas featured the band at their heaviest. Through all these, Theart had been explaining that it was OK that the crowd weren’t familiar with the band’s music as it was probably the first time we had heard it, but that there was something coming up that we would know and that would get the crowd going. He was right – covering John Farnham’s 1986 classic You’re The Voice might have seemed a strange choice, but it certainly got most of the crowd singing along and brought them to life for the set-ending Silent Genocide. Buffalo Summer had set this evening’s bar quite high. I Am I rose to the challenge and are easily one of the best support acts I have ever seen.

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Jacob Ziemba, Phil Martini and ZP Theart - I Am I

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By the time Skid Row took to the stage, Fibbers was as full as I have ever seen it and the crowd were pushing forward. Having not quite made it to the very front, I found myself pinned in, next to what was inevitable going to be the mosh-pit, with little chance of being able to take any notes during the performance. Having already had water thrown over me by Theart during I Am I’s set, I also found myself splashed from behind by what I assume (hope…) was beer. The band came on to, or just after, a rendition of Blitzkrieg Bop. “That’s the last song you’ll know,” quipped my gig buddy. He was right. Heavier than both support acts the band currently boasts three original members, with Rachel Bolan (bass), Dave Sabo and Scotti Hill (guitars), being joined by Rob Hammersmith on drums and vocalist Johnny Solinger. The latter proclaimed how great it was to be back in York after so long, until Bolan, replete with chain connecting nose to ear, eventually asked whether they had played here before only to be told by the crowd that they hadn’t. Nobody seemed embarrassed. Further humour came when Sabo took to the microphone for a few words, only to be drowned out the crowd’s chant of, “Yorkshire, Yorkshire". “I don’t even know what that means,” he admitted when the chant subsided. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the music as I tried to avoid drunken, overweight, middle-aged men throwing themselves around the pit and, in one case, nearly skittling me over after falling at my feet – the bouncer had his work cut out with that one. Let’s Go, the first of two tracks to be played from United World Rebellion, the band’s new EP (the other was Kings Of Demolition) was hard and rocky, but mixed with more melodic interludes. The softer acoustic start of power ballad I Remember You seemed to bring the couple in front of me, who had been having a loud row before the set started, back together as the woman sang along to her partner. One song, I can’t remember which didn’t so much feature a guitar duet as a guitar duel, with Sabo and the pale, eye-linered Hill, with his Joker-like grin, playing off each other as much as playing together. Solinger, sporting Axl Rose style bandana and, throughout most of the set, sunglasses, was as confident a frontman as Theart had been, flashing devil’s horns symbols to the crowd while belting out the lyrics during a set comprised of songs from most of the band’s back catalogue (only 2006’s relatively poorly received Revolutions Per Minute wasn’t represented), as well as the two tracks from the forthcoming EP and Psycho Therapy, a Ramones cover performed by Bolan. The evening was brought to a close with a three song encore which ended with the anthemic, crowd-pleasing Youth Gone Wild.

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Johnny Solinger, Rachel Bolan, Scotti Hill – Skid Row

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Despite knowing nothing about the new bands and my unfamiliarity with Skid Row’s material, tonight’s gig seemed to take me back to the days, nearly thirty years ago, when I went to Queen’s Hall in Leeds to see such acts as Ozzy, Dio and Whitesnake. At the time, as I was just getting into music, I generally only knew a handful of tracks from the headliners and, usually, nothing from whoever was supporting. (In fact, I can only remember one support act from the time – Great White – and the feeling that they weren’t very good.) The only difference tonight was that I would probably say I enjoyed one of the supports, I Am I, more than I did the headliners. 

Sunday 7 April 2013

Blackbeard’s Tea Party–The Duchess, 06/04/13

Strange, when I arrived at the Duchess tonight I could have sworn that the doors hadn’t opened but when I got inside there was more people in there than had been in front of me in the queue and the first act was already on stage.
Andy Doonan’s vocals reminded me of somebody but I don’t think it was the Bon Jovi comparison that I have seen bandied around. Listed on his website as a solo artist, Andy started tonight’s set with a nice song - Hometown - playing acoustic guitar, alongside Sam Smith on electric guitar and Chris Dickinson playing a cajon. The second song, a cover that was naggingly familiar, as if I knew it but under a different arrangement (it turns out that it was Be Somebody, which explains the familiarity), saw them joined by Joe Doonan and Becca Yeadon on backing vocals and this “squad rotation” continued to varying degrees throughout the set. Right Now was a lovely, quiet song which showed off Andy’s impassioned vocals while the next, Stumbling was more upbeat, as was Remember The City Lights which saw the Sam move to keyboards and Andy himself partake of a bit of harmonica action. Andy’s latest single, Here You Are, a kind of soft-rock ballad without the shudder that those words sometimes conjure up, is available as a free download on his Facebook page and was next to be played before he moved to keyboards for Sky On Fire from, I believe, a forthcoming E.P. The mix of piano and electric guitar gave this song the fullest sound of the set. Overall, a pleasant start to the evening and another artiste added to my ever-growing list of those to look out for.
After a quick turn-around, Vinnie and the Stars took to the stage. Or, at least, The Stars did, playing a funky drums, bass and keyboard opening before announcing Vinnie Whitehead’s appearance on guitar, greeted by cries of, “We love you Vinnie,” from the audience. On stage, the band looked a bit of a mixed bag, the keyboard player and bass-player looking like escapees from a Madness tribute band and generic rock band respectively, while Vinnie himself, with his baseball cap and thick silver chain was almost the poster-boy for Yorkshire Hip-hop. His vocals were a strange sort of mixture of sung rap and funk (maybe that’s what Hip-hop is…), and came together with the music in an enjoyable, toe-tapping way. For the most part, the set had a light feel to it, but Nonsense was louder and came over as a bit angrier, while another song had a pseudo-political protest feel to it, if only in the performance as I couldn’t make out to many of the lyrics. With time running out, Vinnie announced that they were going to have to speed through the last two songs, rather than cut either of them. I’m Not From America… I’m From Hull was a humorous rap, performed slickly and with a vague party-band feel to it, while the last song was back to the funky rap stylings. Comprising at least two styles of music that I don’t actually enjoy shouldn’t have worked but this set was, in fact, very enjoyable. I doubt I would buy any albums, but I certainly wouldn’t shy away from seeing this band live again.
I’ve wanted to see Blackbeard’s Tea Party for a while now, without actually knowing why. It’s probably the write-ups they get on what’s-on listings, which usually mention things along the lines of “formidable live act”. It certainly isn’t any degree of knowledge about them or their music. But, let’s face it, when has that ever stopped me seeing a band? Tonight is the first night of their first U.K. tour, one to promote the release of their third album – Whip Jamboree – the first with Stuart Giddens, who I have seen previously as one half of the duo Stuart and Pip. How this band ever play the likes of The Fulford Arms, I will never know (unless I head over there to see them sometime). The Duchess was as full as I think I’ve ever seen it and the audience was buzzing. They had already given both support acts good receptions and were clearly looking forward to the headliners. Unfortunately, I now found myself towards the back of the crowd, peering at the stage across a sea of heads, a sea which included a veritable tsunami of six-foot-plus fans right across the middle. So, any observances in the following aren’t from the best of positions…
Blackbeard’s Tea Party play folk music and it’s almost too easy to characterise at least some of the band members as archetypes from folk (or, perhaps, fairy) tales of old. There’s the slightly cheeky village lad whose voice can charm anybody, the beautiful May Queen with her long flaxen hair, the mighty-thewed giant able to rip tree stumps out of the very ground (and hang them round his neck to play as drums) and… well, I could go on but I didn’t get a good enough look at others in the band (and one might not take too kindly to being called Lob…). But what of the music? Well, the band play a mixture of their own compositions and updated arrangements of more tradition stuff. Tonight’s set was comprised of what sounded like, to my folk-uneducated mind, shanties, drinking songs, jigs and, perhaps, reels but all with a modern flavour through the inclusion of Martin Coumbe’s electric guitar and Tim Yates’ bass. Arriving on stage to the rather un-folk sound of an air-raid siren and a huge bass and drum rumble, the band launched straight into a sea shanty and the crowd was already bouncing. The next song saw vocalist Stuart Giddens adding a melodeon to the line-up, which was completed by Laura Barber on fiddle and Yom Hardy and Dave Boston on a multitude of percussion between them, but with no conventional drum kit in sight both played mainly with their hands, with Yom’s hair flying and Dave, who was generally standing up, occasionally stretching his arms wide and appearing, like a modern-day Atlas, to be holding up the Duchess’ ceiling. Both played with physical flourishes that, if nothing else, showed just how in time with each other they were. For me, most of the time it was near impossible to tell whether songs were followed by instrumentals or whether the instrumentals were just extensions of the songs but every track got a rapturous reception from the crowd who, if not more folk-minded than me, were at least more familiar with the band’s output. One example of the modern updating came with Landlady, the band’s version of Jake Thackray’s The Lodger, with music by Laura and added lyrics from Stuart who, before playing it, announced, “Hang on to you hats, ladies and gentlemen. This one’s dirty.” There was something almost pantomime-like in the performance of it. The New Jigs, taken, appropriately enough, from the new album was dedicated to Dave Boothroyd, producer of said album, who Stuart credited as inventing the new music genre of “tech-folk”. During the set, each band member seemed to get a small solo spot during the songs but, about halfway through, the spotlight was most definitely on Laura, who performed a short fiddle number with the rest of the band fist-pumping to the rhythm until they all came in for the end of the track. The whole performance was energetic, the band generally smiling and enjoying themselves and rarely still on stage, whether it was Dave wandering around, one of the others joining him on the drum platform or the whole front line leaning slowly from side to side in unison. The slightly off-the-wall feel continued as Lankin, a “miserable folk song”, was greeted with cheers as Stuart described what it was about (effectively, a builder breaking into a house and killing a child…) and was followed by Rackabella, a “pork-pie hunting” song, about which I wasn’t privy to the in-joke. A couple of tracks later and Stuart called for the people in front to create an open space to accommodate a “surprise” as the next track was accompanied by The Black Swan Rapper, who performed an intricate, energetic and acrobatic dance with rapper swords. As they departed the floor, the rush of people to get back to the front was almost as awe-inspiring as the rapper team had been. Landlord was another saucy song and, I think, one that I’ve heard in another guise as the line “tomorrow we’ll be sober” sounded familiar and was followed by the intriguingly titled Chicken On A Raft which, rather than being about floating poultry, was written by Cyril Tawney about an unpopular dish of fried egg on fried bread that was served during his time in the Navy. The set finished with Polka Against The Clock which is one of those songs that sounds chaotic, as though the various instruments are pulling against each other rather than working together, but somehow still works.
After a short break the band returned for an encore, with Stuart looking like he had just stepped out of the video for Dire Straits’ Money For Nothing (how much less “folk” can day-glo sweatbands be…?) and, after another instrumental, the evening ended with the title track of the new album, a rousing sing-along that seemed to encapsulate the character of the whole show. Inevitably, on the way out, I visited the merchandise table and bought the entire back catalogue. While I expect the albums to be good, I suspect it won’t be as good as seeing the band live.
As I mentioned, I had wanted to see this band for a while. Now that I have, I want to see them again. Soon. It may be my own local bias but, while Blackbeard’s Tea Party update folk music in much the same way that acts such as The Albion Band do, they seem to do it with even more energy. Very highly recommended.