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Leamington Letters #133: A meeting on the ledge

23/10/2017

10 Comments

 
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Three songs and quarter of an hour or so into the gig, at Warwick Arts Centre last night, Richard Thompson tells us that, as we will have realised by now, he has really only one style of song: miserable. But within that, he says, “there is variety: slow miserable, medium-paced miserable and fast miserable”.
 
“How” he wondered, “can I sustain this for an hour and a half?”
 
The answer, at least for me, was not very well at all. I say this with regret because he is a legend in this household and has been since I first saw him with the Fairports nearly fifty years ago. But last night, this solo acoustic show was all too furious and frenetic, as he bellowed out those emotionally-charged lyrics over too-loud rock riffs and fast picking that was, well, just too fast.
 
The variety he promised us did not materialize. It was full-on from beginning to end, without light or shade, without nuance, subtlety or elegance.
 
The pace never faltered. When Who Knows Where The Time Goes? is almost indistinguishable from Valerie, I was considering whether to take an early bus and an even earlier glass of red.
 
That I didn’t yield to these twin temptations is down to the fact that it would be disrespectful to do so and I owe this man a great deal.
 
But it does raise the question of why we, or I, attend these kind of shows.

Jill absented herself from the gig on the basis that she had been there and done that. But I suppose I wanted to show my allegiance, pay homage, cast my mind back to the Fairports in 1968 and the stuff with Linda in the ‘70s, to revisit the first time I heard him play 1952 Vincent Black Lightning live twenty years or so ago.
 
I did all that. And now I will try to put this particular show out of my mind.
 
With the exception of the support.
 
I had not realized when I booked my seat that Josienne Clarke & Ben Walker were opening the show, and what a pleasure it was to hear them live for the first time. Josie’s songs are haunting and her voice beautiful; Ben’s guitar playing is exquisite.
 
Not a wasted night at all.
 
Today from the everysmith vaults: something of a Fairport-fest inevitably, but at the end of Unhalfbricking, iTunes bizarrely skipped to the Incredible String Band and The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter.

10 Comments
Steve
23/10/2017 10:50:59

I guess your commitment to Bob falls into the same category: allegiance, homage, revisiting. Or is that different? And if so, why?

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(Notthat) Bob
23/10/2017 13:24:18

With Bob, it's habit and completism! If Bob can keep on keepin' on, so can we.

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SamS
23/10/2017 11:54:53

Saw RT a couple of years back. Felt much the same as you but didn’t say anything because it was you know Richard Thompson. And maybe it’s us Max. Getting old for full on shit.

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Mike
23/10/2017 16:29:12

At least he gave you a treat by sponsoring a new young duo. That’s what real gods do.

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Richard
24/10/2017 11:48:03

Disappointed to read this. I thought it was brilliant - from beginning (Josie and Ben) to the end. Did think the Arts Centre was rubbish though.

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Ellie
27/10/2017 10:13:27

You once quoted someone as saying that Dylan didn't keep touring so that his fans could see him, but so that he could see his fans. I suspect that is the case with many of these musicians from a previous age. They don't need the money, they want the acclaim. They want to feel relevant.

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Dan
27/10/2017 11:48:53

Good point. But in Dylan’s case, being ‘just a song and dance man’, he has to keep performing for its own sake. That’s what he does.

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MartinS
19/11/2017 10:16:00

I must say I agree. You feel you've got to like his music, but he is, nowadays, like the last 40 years, er, a tad boring.

Many years ago I remember hearing Martin Carthy talking about how Dave Swarbrick had been going on to him about this fantastic electric guitarist he'd 'discovered', who could match him on the single note lines of folk tunes that he played. Some compliment. And then 'Unhalfbricking' and 'What we Did on Our Holiday' turned into 'Liege and Lief', folk as rock and rock as folk (although it seemed more the overbearing Dave than the modest self-effacing Richard), and there one was.

But subsequently ... that monotonous, and I'm afraid that tuneless voice, and that relentless fast crisp 'pattern picking' to every song. It seemed the electric guitar-playing which was unusual and revolutionary at the time didn't really develop. I find I am in disagreement with you, though, about the '52 Vincent'. That's right in the slot, I used to say I liked it, but I don't think I actually did, I think I thought I ought to like it because of the subject matter and who it was. But to me, now, it is a boring sentimental song sung in a boring tuneless voice accompanied by incredibly precise fast pattern-picking. Oh Richard, you were the dog's bollocks in a great band, but I always wonder what you'd look like without that beret.

Well done for staying to the end of the performance though! And I hope this finds you in fine fettle.

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Rick Hough
20/11/2017 04:23:42

"1952 Vincent Black Lightning" is as impressive a name for a song as we've lately encountered.

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RickT
6/12/2017 16:50:08

Shame you didn’t enjoy RT. We went to Basingstoke last Friday and loved it. I was worried it would be ‘same old same old’ but there was just enough variety from our perspective; the usual favs interspersed with some unexpected archive nuggets and a smattering of new tunes. After all this time just the tone of his guitar and voice brings a little lump to my throat. I loved hearing Who Knows Where The Time goes. His challenge must be that a) he can do it all standing on his head and b) the audience won’t go home until they have heard Beeswing, 1952VBL and Wall of Death. How he keeps any of it remotely fresh is beyond me.

To be fair I think his song writing is probably drying up a bit. I keep buying the CDs but the gems seem to be fewer and far between. At the age of 68 and having penned probably over 500 songs to date I am willing to cut him some slack. 1952VBL was introduced as “This is a song about a love triangle. Is there much call for that in Basingstoke?” Some bloke called out from the front to which he replied “Aha, I knew it! There’s a single down here if anyone’s interested!”


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    Max Smith

    European writer, radical, restaurateur and Red Sox fan. 70-something husband, father, step-father, grandfather and son. Resident in Leamington Spa, England.

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