Fact #98614
When:
Short story:
Graham Parker And The Rumour play at The O2 Academy, Bristol, UK.
Full article:
Bands come, bands go and, unfortunately, many of them re-form when they should have left their legacies and our memories gloriously intact.
Graham Parker And The Rumour are a happy exception to the rule, as indeed they were in the mid-70s when their exuberant soul-rock was at odds with every prevailing mode of current pop. They burst out of London's vibrant pub-rock scene with a tight rock sound tailored around Stax and Motown arrangements, and with Parker's gritty, straight-from-the-heart songs unlike anything else on the scene. The only contemporary white act to compare him with was Elvis Costello but Parker somehow felt less contrived, more sincere than Elvis.
On this damp Friday night in an unusually warm autumn, Parker hit the stage with his re-united Rumour - easily the most suitable band he ever worked with - and the magic started right away. I had been fearing, as I always do, that this was just one more ageing rocker out to squeeze the last few pennies out of the faithful, but instead we got an old geezer who has somehow retained his cool, sings as well as ever, and looked to be having a great time.
He endeared himself to the Bristol audience by tossing in references to his childhood, much of which was spent in the city, and the gig he'd played with Andy Fairweather-Low in nearby Colston Hall in the mid-70s. Judging by the cheer that went up, about 99% of the audience had been there. I felt like an outsider.
The set comprised a well-chosen trot through the cream of his catalogue. I'd have liked to hear Back To Schooldays and Not If It Pleases Me, but Howling Wind, Soul Shoes, Lady Doctor, Black Honey, Hotel Chambermaid, Fool's Gold and a dozen more, including several well-up-to-par recent songs, left me with no complaints.
The band - the proper Rumour line-up from the classic days - was superb and appeared to be having the time of their lives, singing along as they played, dancing when they weren't playing, grinning and chatting to each other mid-song. Every guitar interjection from Brinsley Schwarz and Martin Belmont was only as long as it needed to be, fitted the song it was embellishing and was unusually tuneful. Their delighted grins at pulling off the twin-guitar harmony passages was a treat to behold.
Bob Andrews' keyboards were always apt and his beatific grin warmed the cockles of every heart in the venue, while the rhythm section did what only the best can do - added all of the essential drive and verve without ever being intrusive.
Parker himself was winningly charismatic and self-effacing, especially when teasing the audience that they were thinking of playing all of his eighties material on this tour. "That'd go down like a lead balloon, eh?", he chortled.
For a man of his age, even his dancing was entertaining, making the most of small gestures and simple moves to add expression to the songs. Several times, intriguingly, his shoulder twitches and hand gestures reminded me of Robert Smith of The Cure who may well have been a fan in his early days.
They came back for two encores, including, of course a celebratory singalong of Hey Lord Don't Ask Me Questions and, to end the night, a dizzying spin through The Jackson 5's I Want You Back.
Bands come, bands go, but Parker and The Rumour are welcome to come back any time they like, if they can keep up this level of performance.
(Source : Johnny Black, audience member)
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Graham Parker And The Rumour are a happy exception to the rule, as indeed they were in the mid-70s when their exuberant soul-rock was at odds with every prevailing mode of current pop. They burst out of London's vibrant pub-rock scene with a tight rock sound tailored around Stax and Motown arrangements, and with Parker's gritty, straight-from-the-heart songs unlike anything else on the scene. The only contemporary white act to compare him with was Elvis Costello but Parker somehow felt less contrived, more sincere than Elvis.
On this damp Friday night in an unusually warm autumn, Parker hit the stage with his re-united Rumour - easily the most suitable band he ever worked with - and the magic started right away. I had been fearing, as I always do, that this was just one more ageing rocker out to squeeze the last few pennies out of the faithful, but instead we got an old geezer who has somehow retained his cool, sings as well as ever, and looked to be having a great time.
He endeared himself to the Bristol audience by tossing in references to his childhood, much of which was spent in the city, and the gig he'd played with Andy Fairweather-Low in nearby Colston Hall in the mid-70s. Judging by the cheer that went up, about 99% of the audience had been there. I felt like an outsider.
The set comprised a well-chosen trot through the cream of his catalogue. I'd have liked to hear Back To Schooldays and Not If It Pleases Me, but Howling Wind, Soul Shoes, Lady Doctor, Black Honey, Hotel Chambermaid, Fool's Gold and a dozen more, including several well-up-to-par recent songs, left me with no complaints.
The band - the proper Rumour line-up from the classic days - was superb and appeared to be having the time of their lives, singing along as they played, dancing when they weren't playing, grinning and chatting to each other mid-song. Every guitar interjection from Brinsley Schwarz and Martin Belmont was only as long as it needed to be, fitted the song it was embellishing and was unusually tuneful. Their delighted grins at pulling off the twin-guitar harmony passages was a treat to behold.
Bob Andrews' keyboards were always apt and his beatific grin warmed the cockles of every heart in the venue, while the rhythm section did what only the best can do - added all of the essential drive and verve without ever being intrusive.
Parker himself was winningly charismatic and self-effacing, especially when teasing the audience that they were thinking of playing all of his eighties material on this tour. "That'd go down like a lead balloon, eh?", he chortled.
For a man of his age, even his dancing was entertaining, making the most of small gestures and simple moves to add expression to the songs. Several times, intriguingly, his shoulder twitches and hand gestures reminded me of Robert Smith of The Cure who may well have been a fan in his early days.
They came back for two encores, including, of course a celebratory singalong of Hey Lord Don't Ask Me Questions and, to end the night, a dizzying spin through The Jackson 5's I Want You Back.
Bands come, bands go, but Parker and The Rumour are welcome to come back any time they like, if they can keep up this level of performance.
(Source : Johnny Black, audience member)