Now that the live music scene has come back to something resembling normality, our Man in the North has been getting out to a few gigs again. Here are his thoughts on four gigs in the north of England by George Thorogood, Joe Jackson, From the Jam and Lil’ Jimmy Reed, including a gig at one of Music Riot’s favourite venues, The Picturedrome in Holmfirth.
Cats are supposed to have 9 lives but this cat (in a Keith Richards stylee) enjoyed 4 lives in 9 days (or thereabouts) in various bits of England in amongst a heavy-duty studio schedule back here in the Staffordshire Moorlands…starting with George Thorogood and the Destroyers at the Nottingham Royal Concert Hall. Nottingham’s love affair with George Thorogood started at Rock City over 40 years ago, and now he’s a Major Rock Star, he’s played the Royal Concert hall a few times.
Bless him, he looks a bit ‘lived in’ now compared to the pumped-up All-American guitar slinger who bust out of Rounder Records at me way back in the seventies, in fact he’s 72 years old so he’s excused, but his arm looks in much better nick than when we last saw him in Manchester a fair few years ago when he was all strapped up and heavily reliant on his second guitarist to do some of the ‘heavy lifting’. He certainly seemed to be shifting around the gee-tar quite comfortably this time, and joy of joys as this cannot be said for many of a certain age, his voice is still a very useful weapon.
The rather ‘cartoon’ ‘Rock Party’ gives way to a spirited romp through Bo Diddley’s ‘Who Do You Love’ and as he correctly surmises…’and we’re away…’ and the middle eight’ of the gig comprises some good ol’ George favourites, ‘Night Time’, ‘I Drink Alone’ and a rapturously received ‘One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer’. Nowt wrong with that. No, Sir. More or less at this point he switches to a beautiful white Epiphone and slide tube, and we get ‘Gear Jammer’, ‘Get A Haircut And Get A Real Job’, and to enjoy the irony of that you have to go back to the days when there was such a thing as a ‘Real Job,’ a crowd-pleasing ‘Bad To The Bone’ and a joyous romp through the Champs ‘Tequila’ and then sprinting home with the title track from ‘Move It On Over’ before an encore of ‘Born To Be Bad’ and a bizarre awarding of a single rose to a lady on the front row whilst the National Anthem played (not the American one). His slide work is still gold standard stuff, The Destroyers, including the old 1970s originals Billy Blough and Jeff Simon still pound along with enthusiasm and yes, there aren’t the physical pyrotechnics and Chuck Berry ‘duck walks’ anymore and it does look like hard work on occasion, which it assuredly is. But these are card-carrying American musicians. You’ve paid to see a Rock Show in the grand manner, and you’re getting your money’s worth. For how much longer, I wouldn’t like to hazard. But right now, you’re unlikely to see and hear a better set of rocking blues here in the UK.
From there to Manchester and the Albert Hall, which is actually a converted Methodist Hall which is over a hundred years old and is perhaps best described as ‘shabby chic’. A medium-sized venue, it has probably the longest walk to the rest rooms outside of a festival setting and significantly more stairs. However, it did, on the face of it, appear to be a charming venue for us to see Joe Jackson go through his paces for the first time since the early 80s.
The local support act were almost inaudible and that should have set the warning bells a-jangling but as they were of the hyper-sensitive acoustic singer songwriter duo I was inclined to put that down to the genre. But Sadly Not. Joe Jackson took to the stage with his band, and as ever the main man cut a dapper figure, almost painfully tall and thin, and straight away we’re in trouble. The opening song is just a muddy mess, ‘One More Time’ completely ruined, Jackson’s voice almost completely drowned. OK, a sighting shot. Come on, mixing desk guy, get it sorted. ‘Big Black Cloud’ is slightly better, but this isn’t saying a great deal. ‘Sunday Papers’ is knowing and brisk, but once again, the cacophony which surrounds him seems to be fighting the voice rather than supporting it.
Jackson’s keyboard work is nothing less than sumptuous, though. ‘Real Men’ is a compromised delight and this leads to tonight’s cover where he wryly observes he usually likes to do one cover in a set from a band he likes….but this time he’ll do one by a band he really doesn’t like, and promptly launches into an extremely well-arranged and thoroughly enjoyable cover of Abba’s ‘Knowing me, Knowing You’. And then a bit of a break before ‘Blaze of Glory‘ ‘Tomorrow’s World’ and ‘Fool’, and it becomes increasingly apparent that either 1. It is nigh-on impossible to get a decent sound in the venue, OR; 2. The sound guy is clueless. In any case, the drummer plays with a lack of sensitivity and touch which is almost breathtaking. It’s as if he’s employed Animal from the Muppets to ruin the set for him. A couple of songs where Jackson plays and sings solo underlines this. In mine own humble, he’d have been better off touring solo with his keyboard and maybe somebody on a cajon or something. ‘Sing You Sinners,’ a cover of the Tony Bennett standard leads into what for me was the highlight of a frustrating gig, a re-arranged and vocally – led ‘Is She Really Going Out With Him’. And it is apparent, as it has been all night, that his voice is still Right There. ‘Different For Girls’ is played completely straight down the line and is a serious high point and ‘I’m The Man’ is played with an energetic, punky joy which gets them dancing in the aisles. So we’re all warmed up and it looks like He’s The Man and he’s going to pull triumph from the teeth of near – disaster; the assembled knows what’s coming. ‘Stepping Out’, top ten hit both sides of the Atlantic, and they’re ready to celebrate and dance. So the band elect to play it as a slow ballad. Which of course it can be sung as, lyrically that much is clear. But under the circumstances, Why Would You? Classic case of just because you can doesn’t mean you should. F for frustrating. He was good, It could have been soooo much better. Would I go see Joe Jackson again? Probably. Would I go to Manchester Albert Hall again? Probably not.
Ah, well. Sup up your beer and collect your fags. A hop and a skip around the uncharacteristically parched Pennines and here we are in gorgeous Holmfirth, and all dressed up for my favourite music venue in the entire country, the Picturedrome. And a revisit to From The Jam for the first time in a good few years as well.
And they are on top form from the off. Neither of the main men, Bruce Foxton or Russell Hastings are in the first flush of youth and the intersong raps often focus on the effects of statins and the magic of stents but they play with brutal conviction and drive. ‘Broooos’ even manages a couple of eye-watering scissor kicks and I’m speaking as a contemporary here.
We are Having It tonight, it seems.
Early set highlights are a stinging ‘David Watts’ which really underlines the band’s (yes, this one and the ‘previous’ one) links back to the 60s beat boom, but without the corny guitar tricks, angelic harmonies and ersatz American accents which compromised so much of the home-grown, R’n’B based pop music of the time. They go for ‘A Town Called Malice’ early in the set which is, some might say, brave; a nailed – on encore barnstormer all day long, but with a body of work like this I guess you can afford to take a risk or two.
‘Pretty Green’ and ‘Saturday’s Kids’ are just a joy to hear. What great songs they are – and they’re played with power, energy and verve and – the voices work SO well together. Russell Hastings seems very comfortable in his role and it is gratifying that there are almost as many ‘Russell’ shouts as there are shouts for ‘Broooos’.
Bruce himself doesn’t look entirely comfortable at some points in the set or indeed totally happy though goodness knows why, if I was caught up in the middle of that lot I’d spend all my time delighting in the fact that I’d found a way to take these songs out on the road again and put them in front of people in the manner they were intended. ‘That’s Entertainment’ is a full – on pull out the stops electric version and ‘Start’ is pure 60s beat-boom magic. I absolutely delight in The Jam’s Motown and soul covers from way ‘back in the day’ so it is with ‘throw myself about all over the place’ abandon I greet ‘Heatwave’ which even includes the headlong vocal ‘call and response’ stuff towards the end. ‘Strange Town’, ‘In The City’, ‘Eton Rifles’, ‘Going Underground’ (after an EXTREMELY lengthy wait for the band to come out for the encore, apparently due to ‘discussions’ about the encore songs) but by this time the whole place is reduced to a sweaty, heaving dysfunctional mess, the front is in full mosh mode and that magic feeling you only get when a top bunch of musicians have taken the place with them has broken out and pervades the sweat – soaked air.
That’s the way you do it. GO and see them and that’s an order.
Home and a big breakthrough for me – I’ve been asked to do a ‘cover’ shift on the main Radio Caroline album channel, having produced over 200 shows for the Caroline Flashback ‘oldies channel’ and I am totally made up. But before I lock myself away in the studio and start to understand the way all that works, gig number 4, a short drive across the moors through England’s highest village to Buxton and a visit to the charmingly sedate Pavilion Gardens, where Louisiana blues legend Lil’ Jimmy Reed is on the bandstand.
Now, Lil’ Jimmy is not actually called Lil’ Jimmy Reed. His real name is Leon Atkins but that’s where the kidding stops. This guy learned his trade playing gigs with the REAL Jimmy Reed, you know, ‘Shame Shame Shame’ and all that, and his peers, so it is not unreasonable to assume our man is knocking on a bit. Indeed, he is the dangerous side of 80 and can reasonably lay claim to being one of the last ‘original’ purveyors of Louisiana Blues.
And what a bunch of ‘sidemen’ he presents to us tonight (or doesn’t, he barely addresses the audience at all apart from through his music). On keyboards, Bob Hall, long-time collaborator with Alexis Korner, and a relatively youthful 80, Hilary Blythe on a U-bass, and the drummer with Ten Years After during the glory years, Ric Lee.
Hang on, let me do that again. This guy has played Woodstock. Yes, THAT Woodstock. He’s not going to waste his time.
And he isn’t.
The band shuffle on, looking like a group of retired schoolteachers albeit in a concession to ‘showbiz’ dressed in cabaret-style glittery stage apparel (with the exception of Ric Lee, he’s clearly having none of that old malarkey).
And promptly proceed to light up the stage with some of the best and most authentic blues you’ll hear this year or probably ever again.
We get ‘Hoochie Coochie Man’, we get ‘Caress Me Baby’, we get ‘How Blue Can You Get’, ‘We Get Big Boss Man’…but it almost doesn’t matter what we get. Reed just glides around his guitar with the assurance of a man who has HAD to play for a living for years and years and years, wherever there was a dollar to be earned and the band just roll with it. There are a few hilarious interludes where Reed, who sure don’t say much, tries to let the band know what key to start in by mouthing it across from one side of the stage to the other. Now, communicated like this there ain’t much difference between A,D,E or G, with, as critics might say, hilarious consequences. I’d be tempted to get different coloured paddles and wave them about at the start of each song but that would probably just lose some of the charm. Nope, he don’t talk much. I think I’d also advise against the audience walkabout with the guitar. He’s so stick thin and frail-looking, I was genuinely worried he’d ‘have a fall’ as people say about elderly folks. But then again you also get the impression that Nobody Tells Him What To Do. After the break, where the merch stand is hammered so much they actually run out of CDs, he disappears to the bar for three songs, which is unusual as he’s doesn’t drink, giving the band opportunity (which it didn’t look like they were expecting!) to do a few of their own songs prior to his re-appearance.
But sing….he opens his mouth and the pain and weariness, struggle, soul and strain of slowly lifting himself out of the shotgun shack in which he was born and raised, all fall out amongst a magical cascade of scattergun electric blues. He plays slide with just his fingers. He uses his hands as percussion. What A Player. What A Voice.
As you might expect with that pedigree, the drums are absolutely rock solid and perfectly in context and in fact all the musicians manage to make a telling contribution to the evening’s events without ever drowning or obscuring the business end of it all, which would have been near-sacrilegious.
Make no mistake, this man is the Real Deal and he might well be able to lay claim to the title Last Man Standing. I left the venue thinking that I probably won’t see anything like that again. And that doesn’t happen every night.
So, four very different live experiences. You pays your money, you takes your pick. But what I will say with total conviction is it is SO good to be able to get out and enjoy a whole range of live music again. What was once a lifestyle, now feels like a privilege. Whatever it is that floats your boat, GO. Just go.
4 for George Thorogood, 3 for Joe Jackson, 5 for From The Jam, and 5 for Lil’ Jimmy Reed.
“The United State” is more than an album, it’s a journey and it’s a journey that we all take, from the cradle to the grave or, more accurately, the womb to the tomb. That’s the way Justin Wells conceived the project; he came up with concept then wrote the songs to fit in with the storyboarded sequence. It turned his normal way of writing upside down, imposing a completely different discipline to the creative process. The recording process was a similar trial, using a host of guest musicians to create some fascinating sonic textures and styles ranging across atmospheric instrumental, a cappella, country, country rock, slow blues and Southern funk to bring the story to life (and death).
The album opens in the womb with a short, atmospheric instrumental featuring slide and ambient guitar sounds and ends with the ethereal a cappella of “Farewell, Mr Hooper” representing death and between the two, there are ten strong and varied songs moving the narrative along. The second single from the album, “No Time For a Broken Heart” is out now; it’s a nod in the direction of The Band and the message is pretty simple – life ain’t easy, but we have to take what it throws at us and get on with it. The electric piano and resonator move the song just a little out of the country mainstream into more eclectic territory.
Other standouts for me are “Never Better”, a four-to-the-floor stomp with a Southern boogie feel given a twist with a touch of electric piano again and the slow blues “After the Fall” with a full band sound, including three guitars and some powerful solos and twin guitar breaks hinting at the stylings of Keith Richards and Mick Taylor/Ronnie Wood. The theme of the song is classic obsession with the ‘fallen woman’ and the inability to walk away. It’s the centrepiece of the album, showcasing Justin Wells’ rasping blues vocal and some classic blues soloing. It’s followed by the Lowell George-tinged “It’ll All Work Out”, which is dominated by keys and some lovely slide playing. The chorus sounds positive but the message is that people will tell you it’ll all work out, but it ain’t necessarily so.
“The United State” is packed with songs that work perfectly well in isolation but, in sequence, tell a universal story; we all know the ending, but the interest is in how you get there and this is a very interesting album indeed.
“The United State” is released on Friday August 28th on SINGULAR RECORDINGS (SNG202001JW).
OK, so just to save a bit of time, we all know about Eddie Manion, yeah? Whaddya mean, no? Where have you been for the last forty years? You really should get out more. If you want the whole nine yards, check out his Wikipedia entry, but, just for the moment, his first major gig was with Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, and since then he’s played with Dion, Dave Edmunds, Diana Ross, The Allman Brothers, Willy De Ville, Keith Richards and Bob Dylan and many, many more. He was part of the E Street Band for Bruce Springsteen’s “Wrecking Ball” tour and, more recently, he’s been touring Europe with the Light of Day Foundation raising money for Parkinson’s Disease research. His motto is ‘Have Sax, Will Travel’.
Eddie Manion plays tenor and baritone sax (mainly baritone when working as part of a horn section) as well as having a pretty good voice, which you can hear on his first solo album, “Follow Through”, released in 2004. At the end of the gargantuan “Wrecking Ball” tour, Eddie started work on his second solo album “Nightlife”, opting this time for instrumental interpretations of standards and not-quite-so-standards, rather than his own compositions. It’s a double-edged sword. Both ways you’re going to be judged; one way you’re compared with others’ songwriting, the other way you’re compared with previous versions of the same songs. So how does “Nightlife” shape up?
I guess it’s natural for anyone who’s spent their entire adult life as a professional musician to want to do their own thing once in a while. Eddie Manion’s spent a lot of time playing in horn sections in big bands where nuance isn’t always too high on the agenda, so when the window of opportunity opened, he pulled together a superb bunch of musicians to make an album placing his sax playing firmly stage centre against a backdrop that allows him to interpret songs with style and subtlety. From the album’s opener, a gorgeous version of the theme from the 1961 movie “Town Without Pity”, with its piano triplets and wah-wah trumpet, to the closer “”The Only One, from Roy Orbison’s final album, the album demonstrates Eddie’s ability to create flawless interpretations of jazz standards such as “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” and “Stardust” whilst also combining Springsteen’s “City of Night” in a medley with King Curtis’s “Soul Serenade”.
Throughout “Nightlife”, Eddie Manion combines a jazz-styled finesse with a rawer rock edge to create a satisfying and varied set of instrumentals that embody great musicianship and sympathetic arrangements. If you value musical skill and the ability to pick a good tune, then you’ll love this; Eddie’s a superb player and he’s surrounded himself with like minds to produce a real musician’s album. As an added bonus, Eddie’s also a very good photographer and the CD packaging includes some of his own fabulous photos taken mainly on the “Wrecking Ball” tour; it’s the icing on the cake of a lovely album.
You can order it here.
