Sketches of Steve Hackett: The Authorised Steve Hackett Biography by Alan Hewitt, Wymer Publishing

Tickets for Steve Hackett: Birkenhead

Steve Hackett does not go down the rocky road of accusation which celebrities with just the two brain cells have all too often trodden. Being the gent that he is, and, well advised by his lawyers, his biographer has decided to celebrate only his musical achievements. Kim Poor, whatever else she was involved with in the musician’s career,  did not play lead guitar on Selling England by the Pound. End of story.

The publisher, is renowned for this style of detailed biography. See his unofficial one about Blackmore for example. This is a tome which you can dip in and extract what you will, as long it isn’t dirt.  Only dedicated Steve Hackett fans will go for this style of account, and the publishers don’t claim it is anything else but a true account of a rock musician’s journey.

Compare the cover price against some inane tripe from the publicity hounds that “adorn” the Tesco top ten. You would then see, at a cursory glance, that the great British public prefer gladiatorial battles against the chronicles of a master craftsman. Witness also the tawdry whingeing on X Factor or Pop Idol as an example of the media we deserve. Phil Collins’s is around the same price. But I really don’t give a fig about this guy’s film career and whether or not he is a good ole cockney mucker.

Instead we get a sense of what it is like to be part of a major rock band. We discover Steve’s first gig with Genesis which was marred by arguments between the band members. I wasn’t aware that there was any tension between Tony Banks, Peter Gabriel and Mike Rutherford c.1971 for example. And I was captivated by Steve’s account of his first gig where his faithful fuzz pedal was replaced, at the very last minute, by a new one which fed back. We’ve all been there. Except of course the stakes were far higher in Steve Hackett’s case.

I would have expected a little more of the Genesis years but as contemporary, Robert Plant often points out,  he spent more time out of his alma mater than in it. Steve Hackett has been a prolific songwriter and is happy in his own skin as the man who supplied the more mystical dimensions to early Genesis and eventually ran down the fertile valley with those ideas.  A begrudging nod to the trio for turning Genesis into a cash cow. But equally, thank the acolytes Hackett decided that three chord wonders, however lucrative, were not really why he answered the ad all those years ago.

Still gigging and touring, Alan Hewitt diligently records the challenging life on the road and in the studio. Thankfully his musical output was not marred by the usual excesses of rock stardom. Hewitt however does not attempt to paint Steve Hackett as anything other than human. The tone remains optimistic throughout. A man of integrity celebrated. And in these days when you can’t even trust your local politician, is it such a Cryme to stick to what matters in life? Steve Hackett is a guitar player. Read all about it.

Can nice chaps succeed in this business? Evidently so. Tune in to Kev’s interview which will be posted on here as soon as it’s been broadcast. The words in this book certainly inspired me to check out my own collection of Steve Hackett’s back catalogue. And I’ll buy more only when I am sure that the man himself (and nobody else) receives his cut.

****

Floral Pavilion, New Brighton: 13 August 2009

One of the reasons for going was my son had put a Richard Thompson album on his birthday list and was intrigued as to whether he had discovered a musical gem that I had missed out on.

With a strong folk tradition in the borough, this travelling troubadour was bound to get a decent audience in the refurbished Floral Pavilion.

But Thompson is more than a folk artist. In times past before the newspapers and TV, it would be the Richard Thompsons who would, through music, tell us about the trials and tribulations of the day. And this is why he is almost a household name.

Instead of droning on about fields of barley though, Thompson takes us to places we have known in our lives. He is the Jimmy McGovern of rock.

Who else in this over-crowded cauldron of X Factor wannabes, could get away with singing a sea shanty? Imagine Simon Cowell’s face for one moment. The difference between Thompson’s and anything you will find warbled diligently at the nearby Maritime Museum is that this guy is writing about now not then.

Johnny’s Far Away is a narrative on a muso who goes away to work with a Céilidh band on a themed Celtic cruise ship while his missus cops off back at home. The humour comes from the familiarity with this albeit bizarre take on modern infidelity.

Hots for the Smarts was another piece of observational humour revealing Thompson’s fetish for intelligent woman who wear glasses.

Relationships feature more highly in the set than I had ever imagined for one not completely with his back catalogue. The melodic lament I Misunderstood summed up the lack of communication between genders with the infectious hook, “I thought she was saying good luck but she was saying goodbye.”

Instead of a cabaret of hit singles that many artists of his generation rely upon for kicks, Thompson can instead take us down light fantasies and dark alley ways.

One minute we are seduced by the beautiful Sunset Song with the capo strapped half way to sound like a mandolin, and the next we are swung round by our ghoulies with the macabre anti war messages in Dad’s Going to Kill Me.

But Thompson is not just an insightful song writer, his guitar playing is vastly underrated. 1952 Vincent Black Lightning is endowed with the most accomplished rhythmical shredding this side of the pond bar none. No effects, no band to mask any errors in the fiddly bits, the song rattled along at a breathtaking pace.

Two schools of thought on the ticket price. I wouldn’t begrudge a talent like Richard Thompson his days at the seaside. But Asia were on at the same theatre for around the same money. Leonard Cohen wanted £50 for a show at the Liverpool Echo Arena so I guess it’s all relative.

Apart from that, it all goes to show that sons can teach their dads a thing or two about  musical taste. Lesson learnt.

Marseille at Revolver: 11 July 2009

This review is also published at Get Ready to Rock

As metal comebacks go, this ranks among the most surprising. Money clearly isn’t a main motivation. So used are we to seeing Neil Buchanan in the trademark red jumper presenting Art Attack on European telly  that it takes a little while to adjust to the cut off t shirt and strides again. The lure of the stage never leaves it seems.

But it doesn’t take long. Neil Buchanan is a born entertainer and a tremendous personality to have on stage with you. His trademark curls sit well on a rock star frame. And why shouldn’t it? As paper rounds go, that was not a bad one between 1980 and 2007. Isn’t it so annoying when a guy looks good , sounds good and can change career just like that? Bah!

Marseille isn’t about one man though. Andy Charters rejoins his old mucker on guitar, Singer, Nige Roberts is the only member not to have been in the original line up but has quickly stamped his own authority on the front man job.

Steve Dinwoodie on bass looks all of 25. In fact you would have been forgiven for thinking this was one of those notorious situations where just the one original member is joined by his nephews to perform under the original banner. No such genetic engineering here, with Charters flying over from the US especially.

Drummer Keith Knowles was temporarily excused from proceedings with an injured hand, but this didn’t detract from the occasion with Wolfpack’s Paul “Andy” Anderson filling in for both the Bolton and Birkenhead dates admirably at short notice.

The tone was upbeat. Marseille are deliberately treading the good time rock n’ roll grooves, continuing where they left off when Mountain records became a muddy landslide. It was interesting to see one guy celebrating his 21^st freaking at the front of the stage with his mates. In fact audience profile at this Birkenhead rock club was encouraging with the horny hands of toil mingling with the bright young things.

First off was the anthemic Are You Ready? which really took us back to those heady days where Marseille were on the stadium tours in the US and blowing off Judas Priest at the Liverpool Empire. These are my words as an 18 year old witness and not their claims. Some of the older songs have been updated with the highlight, Heat of Night featuring some tasty soloing from Buchanan.  It’s a testament to a song when you can remember the riff and chorus when you wake up in the morning.

Do it The French Way was Marseille’s closest brush with Top of the Pops. Punkish in delivery was evident here and, as if by magic, two young ladies who looked as if they had been flown over from the French province made an impromptu appearance on backing vocals.

Nige Roberts is a fine addition. With a skull cap and leather pants on a humid Mersey evening, he must have lost a stone in weight but no less energetic in his voice which reminded me at times of Paul Stanley as opposed to Holder and Gramm who he had previously been compared to by fans. A none too shoddy set of comparisons then.

Criticisms were few and far between. While Marseille naturally look at the old days for inspiration n the early days of this reunion, it will be interesting to see how song writing develops live and digitally. At times, a slower more thoughtful number could have provided some variation. Even the most ardent feel good bands like Van Halen had their reflectional moments.

This is a band to seek out. Logically they are gigging twice a month across the UK due mainly to the geographical locations of the original members. Next visit to the UK is September with stops so far at Liverpool (Cavern), Midlands, Yorkshire, Tyneside and Lancashire to May 2010. Catch ‘em if you can.

Set list

Rock You Tonight
Are You Ready
You’re A Woman
Over & Over
The Can Can
Heat
Motherly Love
Lady of the night
Walking Through The night
Raise Hell
French Way
Some Like It Hot