Steve Hackett, Bridgewater Hall Manchester 5 May 2017

(Read my other review of Steve at the Philharmonic Hall in Liverpool here.)

After an eventful journey, involving late trains, liver surgeons, and an encounter with Jeremy Corbyn, it was on to the beautiful Bridgewater Hall to see the ex-Genesis legend Mr Steve Hackett.  Again.

I've never been to the Hall.  I was right at the top, at the very very back.  I couldn't have been further away from the stage, so I do apologise for the quality of the photos taken with my teeny tiny Olympus SZ 31MR.

This is how far away I was. Seriously.  I needed oxygen to get up to my seat.

The first half of the show was the new album 'The Night Siren', which is about Scotland, refugees, immigration, (Hackett's own family came from Poland), and is a direct response to the far-right ideas currently domination the political landscape.  (Interview about the album.)

"What do we all think of Brexit then?" Steve asked.  This didn't go down particularly well with the Manchester crowd.  Some of them made it quite clear that they loved Brexit, thank you very much. Steve told them how this lack of freedom of movement made life pretty impossible for a touring musician, and that the whole xenophobic introspection of Brexit was a totally backward step.  

The crowd murmured disapprovingly.

"F*ck Brexit!" said Steve.

(Steve usually comes across as a very calm, polite and measured man in his temperament, so this was a bit of a surprise.)

This is  Shadow of the Heirophant.  When I saw the band in Birkenhead at the Floral Pavilion some years ago, I was right in front of Nick Beggs.  He was wearing a top hat and a long black leather coat, which he pulled back at the right hip to free up his leg for the bass pedals.  It was just amazing, such a beautiful gesture amidst the great overwhelming roar of Heirophant.  

This time however, he sat on the floor and played the pedals with his fists.

The second half was about the 40th anniversary of Wind and Wuthering.  Which isn't necessarily a cause for celebration.

But it did mean Nad Sylvan was on stage to do the vocals.  (To be honest though, I prefer his Gabriel to his Collins.)

And we did get Blood on the Rooftops.

 

Please model for me, Mr Beggs...

Firth of Fifth.

And a last word from Roger King on keyboards...

Anderson Rabin and Wakeman, Manchester Apollo 25th March 2017

Well, here we go, final gig everyone.  Sorry about the quality of these - I was sitting in Row L!!

The first thing to note is that the concert was being filmed - one camera at the back, two midway down at either side, and two on hydraulics at either side of the stage, plus hand-held cameras.

What a pity then that this turned out to be not as good a concert as Glasgow in terms of sound, energy and performance, although much better than the dire cheesefest of cold, rainy Edinburgh.  Because it may have been winter in Edinburgh on Wednesday with ice in the morning, but by Saturday in Manchester, it was well and truly sunny spring.  Taps aff!!

But here's Trevor, wrapped up warm.

 Twang! etc.

Noddy Holder was a surprise guest vocalist on one song.

However, he missed out a whole verse of Rhythm of Love. 

Lee had a long Paisley scarf tied to his Rickenbacker.  I've no idea why. 

But then there was also a teddy strapped to the drum kit.

I'm afraid this is a bit of a Lee love-in.

It's The Fish.  Here we go....

Dingggggggg...........!

Keytar Time.

Trevor and Rick go for a bit of a walk around the crowd during Owner.

 Wooooh!!! It's Rick!!!!!

Squeeee!!! It's Trevor!!!!!!!!

Rick getting back onstage.

That's all, folks!

Anderson Rabin and Wakeman, Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, 24 March 2017

Diving once more in to the rich fonduefest of Messrs Anderson, Rabin and Wakeman, here's a few photos of the night.  Fortunately, it turned out to be a far, far better performance in many ways than the show in Edinburgh just two days before.

Squeeeeeellll!! etc.  Trevor is fabulous on his own stuff, bless him, but does the subtleties of Steve's work on the older songs no favours at all.  Trevor doesn't play just a single, beautiful note that's allowed to breathe and express a feeling - oh no, not when he can play 20,0000 million notes, very loud, all at once.

Jon may be small, but Lee is even smaller, as you can clearly see here.

Whe-e-e-e-ere's Wally?  Or was it Blakey from On the Buses?  Whatever, Lou the drummer caused quite a number in our group to froth at the mouth when he mucked about in an extremely irritating attention-seeking manner about during And You And I.  It was like parping a clown's horn during the 1812 Overture.

I could take photos of Lee playing The Fish all night.

Jon had a bit of an accident with his roadkill tambourine.  Vigorous shaking caused a cascade of beads and bells to fall off and bounce in a layer over his little platform, causing a health and safety nightmare.  I was sure he was going to tread on a bead and go skiting off the platform, and I would have to leap onstage and surreally administer first aid to one of my rock 'n' roll heroes.

He did tread on one bead, but being the ever the consummate professional and Accrington Stanley wannabe, he deftly kicked it away with one of his little black bootees with the green light-up bits.

Trevor's top was held together with a piece of thoughtfully co-ordinated black insulating tape.

Next stop - Manchester!