More than enough
Nov. 24th, 2019 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustThe Sage was packed on Thursday; the car park was full, and there were queues at the bars. The reason wasn't Martin Simpson in Hall 2, though that was full enough, and when we came to leave, we joined a crocodile of pedestrians heading back to the Old Town Hall to collect their cars: but the big crowds were there for Tim Minchin in Hall 1. I don't know why this strikes me as so anomalous: I suppose I associate Hall 1 with the big classical concerts, and comedy with small, intimate venues; but this just tells you how out of touch I am.
Actually, there is something of the stand-up routine about Martin Simpson live in performance: without suggesting that the music is in any sense secondary (the music is never less than fabulous) there's a lot of pleasure to be had from the narratives he weaves around the songs. Over a period of time these shift and develop, as the repertoire does, but also as each story acquires new details and new emphases: how I drove to Memphis, how I moved to California, how I didn't buy Jackson C, Frank's guitar... And since this was the day after the anniversary of Roy Bailey's death, we had reminiscences of Roy Bailey, introducing a song he had learned so that he could accompany Roy singing it. And, since it seems particularly topical right now, here they are doing just that:
Curious to hear Robb Johnson's distinctive voice through Roy Bailey's singing, and curiouser on Thursday to hear it at once further remove, but it's all good.
Talking about songs moving in and out of the repertoire, I had a curious moment in the second half when Martin Simpson started to play something completely and utterly familiar, and I did not know what it was: wait. I know this, it's - no, not that, it's - But it wasn't until he began to sing, "I never wanted to fly high..." that I knew it was Anne Lister'd Icarus. Not a particular favourite of mine, a song I always want to argue with, but one I know well from the singing of Martin Simpson back in the 20th century. There was a section of Thursday's audience that was clearly very pleased to hear it: can it possibly have been a request? Not on the night, I think, but ...
Stranger things do happen: we had some audience participation, which is probably a first. Towards the end of the show, when he had finally, finally picked up the banjo which had been sitting at the front of the stage all along, we had Neo, a rewrite of Ragtime Millionaire, in which the audience echoed back the call 'Neo' (as in 'neoliberal billionaire'). Which was fine, but later - after Bones and Feathers, and "the last song" Born Human, and not even a pretense of walking offstage before the encore - later, when he closed the show with a stunning version of Times They Are a-Changing:
participation was not requested, and not required. My lips may have moved throughout, but silently.
Actually, there is something of the stand-up routine about Martin Simpson live in performance: without suggesting that the music is in any sense secondary (the music is never less than fabulous) there's a lot of pleasure to be had from the narratives he weaves around the songs. Over a period of time these shift and develop, as the repertoire does, but also as each story acquires new details and new emphases: how I drove to Memphis, how I moved to California, how I didn't buy Jackson C, Frank's guitar... And since this was the day after the anniversary of Roy Bailey's death, we had reminiscences of Roy Bailey, introducing a song he had learned so that he could accompany Roy singing it. And, since it seems particularly topical right now, here they are doing just that:
Curious to hear Robb Johnson's distinctive voice through Roy Bailey's singing, and curiouser on Thursday to hear it at once further remove, but it's all good.
Talking about songs moving in and out of the repertoire, I had a curious moment in the second half when Martin Simpson started to play something completely and utterly familiar, and I did not know what it was: wait. I know this, it's - no, not that, it's - But it wasn't until he began to sing, "I never wanted to fly high..." that I knew it was Anne Lister'd Icarus. Not a particular favourite of mine, a song I always want to argue with, but one I know well from the singing of Martin Simpson back in the 20th century. There was a section of Thursday's audience that was clearly very pleased to hear it: can it possibly have been a request? Not on the night, I think, but ...
Stranger things do happen: we had some audience participation, which is probably a first. Towards the end of the show, when he had finally, finally picked up the banjo which had been sitting at the front of the stage all along, we had Neo, a rewrite of Ragtime Millionaire, in which the audience echoed back the call 'Neo' (as in 'neoliberal billionaire'). Which was fine, but later - after Bones and Feathers, and "the last song" Born Human, and not even a pretense of walking offstage before the encore - later, when he closed the show with a stunning version of Times They Are a-Changing:
participation was not requested, and not required. My lips may have moved throughout, but silently.
