Bido Lito! Issue 52 / February 2015 | Seite 30

30 Bido Lito! February 2015 Reviews Peter Gabriel (Mike Sheerin / michaelsheerin.photoshelter.com) You & I and Ruby still bending the minds of all in attendance. Any fans of krautrock artists such as Neu or Harmonia should already be familiar with Silver Apples, them being considered progenitors of the genre. Perhaps the younger members of the audience do not know quite how to react to some of the music, but each and every crowd member cannot help but be mesmerised. This is true psychedelia: beautiful, strange and captivating. Christopher Carr PETER GABRIEL Jennie Abrahamson Echo Arena Open entering the cavernous Echo Arena, as someone who only has a cursory knowledge of PETER GABRIEL’s classics, I am filled with niggling, stadium-rock forebodings. This does not seem a likely venue for a road to Damascus experience. The Arena is pretty much full and there is a gentle but unmistakable buzz of anticipation generated by the predominantly middle-aged audience. My misgivings are not eased by a pre-show announcement: “This concert will be recorded from the soundboard; you can buy a copy at www...” etc, etc. Support act JENNIE ABRAHAMSON and Linnea Olsson perform songs of Nordic mysticism: tales of horses, lakes and snowfall. The combination of glockenspiel, cello and their airy, fragile voices bidolito bidolito.co.uk provides the perfect musical setting for such musings. Abrahamson and Olsson remain to provide backing vocals and Gabriel outlines the concert format: an acoustic hor’s d’ouvre, a main course of new and familiar material, and, for dessert, his most commercially successful album, So, in its entirety. A gentle piano, bass and cello opens What Lies Ahead, and Gabriel’s voice is immediately both familiar and somehow comforting. This is a man who has been quietly producing cuttingedge recordings, video and live spectacle for over four decades, not to mention his championing of music from around the globe via Real World Records and WOMAD, and his dedicated contribution to humanitarian causes. Even to a self-confessed doubter his place in contemporary musical legend cannot be denied. And he is in fine voice, effortlessly sounding as he did on those aforementioned eighties hits. The lights in the house stay up during the first few numbers, which, without that twilight anonymity that aids the bonding of individual and performer, gives a slightly odd, exposed feel to the proceedings. However, it quickly becomes obvious that we are in the presence of some very fine musicians indeed and, fittingly for such a musical polymath, the acoustic section is varied: Come Talk To Me features David Sanctious’ swirling accordion, Shock The Monkey highlights David Rhodes’ acoustic riff, and, during the pianoled Family Snapshot, Gabriel’s plaintive tone Snapshot perfectly articulates the song’s raw emotion. The house lights go down for the main course, only stark white light penetrating the darkness. Lights are mounted on several hammer-headed booms, each one operated by two technicians who push them around the stage. The band’s utilitarian, black jumpsuits and the manual operation of the lighting evoke an Orwellian dystopia as filmed by Fritz Lang, and Gabriel tackles issues of control, authority, and alienation in songs such as Secret World, Darkness and No Self Control. If this all sounds very serious, Gabriel exhibits a dry wit. “This song is about God, sex and drugs,” he announces, prompting huge applause. “I’m glad to see there are fans of all three in the house.” The song in question, Why Don’t You Show Yourself, again uses piano and cello Yourself over a sparse bassline, with Gabriel’s spoken vocal contrasting perfectly with Abrahamson and Olsson’s exquisite backing. There is also a playful visual element to the proceedings with Gabriel, Rhodes and bassist Tony Levin spinning into a perfectly choreographed dance routine, like a prog Temptations, during Secret World, and Gabriel skipping down Salisbury Hill like a five-year-old during a joyful version of the hit. So kicks off the dessert with the pounding Red Rain, the stage drenched in red light and drummer Manu Katche making full use of his kit to drive the song along. The next two songs are amongst Gabriel’s best known. Sledgehammer is delivered to rapturous applause and packs a slinky bassline from Tony Levin that has the crowd on their feet. Don’t Give Up, the muchUp anticipated Gabriel/Kate Bush tearjerker, sees Jennie Abrahamson take centre stage to deliver a poignant and sensitive interpretation of the Bush vocal. Gabriel provides a nod to earlier theatricality, temporarily exiting the stage, suitcase in hand. The crowd are on their feet giving Abrahamson wild, “you nailed it”, acclaim. As with the main course, the So section continues to deliver a pleasingly varied set of musical styles and emotional content, not just between songs but within them. Mercy Street sees Gabriel perform the entire song lying on his back, the encircling lighting booms gently lowered above him as a haunting, ethereal vocal sweeps over the crowd. Big Time delivers a funky guitar sing-along before the lighting booms stand erect, like gallows, as the doom-laden riff of We Do What We’re Told threatens the rafters. OK, this is very well performed rock music, and it is in an arena, but there is something about this performance that elevates it above its own levels of technical excellence, an intelligence and humanity that shine through in the lyrics of Gabriel’s songs and in his alternately plaintive and angry delivery. He ends a short encore with Biko, a song which tonight transcends its original focus on an individual to become a universal tribute to the oppressed and has the audience chanting along, fists raised in solidarity. “As always,” concludes Gabriel, “what happens next is up to you”, and he walks off stage. A tour de force. Glyn Akroyd