My apologies that one of these didn’t appear last week; truth be told I’m lacking in inspiration at the moment and simply couldn’t think of anything to write about.
No such problem ths week – well, not for this series anyway – as I spent Thursday night in the company of my old mate Richie, sitting in the audience watching Billy Bragg on his The Roaring Forty tour, celebrating 40 years since the release of his debut record. Not only is Richie one of my longest-standing and most beloved friends, but it was he who first introduced me to the recordings of Bragg, when he played me The Man in the Iron Mask and The Saturday Boy back in 1986, shortly after we first met (which is one of the main reasons he is one of my longest-standing and most beloved friend).
But this wasn’t simply Bragg performing his first album Life’s a Riot with Spy vs Spy in its entirety – although he did do this as an encore, jiggling the running order around so that the night ends with A New England, complete with “one more verse for Kirsty McColl”, as he always does, in memory of the much-missed singer, who covered the song back in 1985, Bragg writing an extra verse for her because she thought his version was too short. I’ve previouly posted Bragg performing the same crowd-pleasing trick at a gig at London’s Union Chapel here.
Thursday night’s gig was every bit as good as we had hoped it to be. It kicks off with a support act which is a forty minute film running through highlights of his career (we’d been asked via email not to record it on our phones, so we can assume it will get a commercial relase at some point) which Bragg later describes as being like watching his life flash before his eyes. When Bragg finally takes the stage, we’re treated to pretty much every song from Bragg’s back catalogue that one could hope for (not every song: The Saturday Boy didn’t get an airing, but unless he contacted me in advance and asked me to pick the setlist, it was inevitable that some of my favourites wouldn’t make the cut). And Bragg is on typicallyn top form betwen songs, providing political rhetoric and amusing anecdotes in equal measure (including a probably fictional telephone conversation with Paul Weller about shirts), and he engages with the audience as only Bragg can. At one point, between songs, a couple of punters call out requests; Bragg’s response: “Look, you can shout out requests out if you like, but you’ve only got to remember the title; I have to remember all the words, the chords, and I’ve got to teach this lot how to play it”, gesturing to his two-man backing musicians (whose names I can’t remember, but who were excellent).
Singing along at Bragg gigs is very much encouraged; there’s no holding-the-microphone-out to invite us in, instead he just stands back to let the audience take over and we needed no second invitation. He momentarily stops proceedings during To Have and To Have Not to tell us all off for getting the words wrong: “I know it’s been a long time since it came out, but what happened to ‘Just because I dress like this doesn’t mean I’m a Communist’?” We give it another go, and he nods and smiles his approval as he plays.
I’m sitting next to a woman who has brought her teenage son along, to “bring the average age of the audience down a bit” she tells me as I retake my seat having had to stand to let them pass. Whilst singing-a-long is the order of the day, something I love to do at gigs and can’t resist at the best of times, I’m often very conscious that my singing doesn’t ruin the night for those around me, so I don’t sing at the top of my voice. Tonight though, it’s impossible to resist, and reassuringly I hear her singing next to me a couple of times. Now I don’t claim to be the finest singer in the world, but she sang like Les Dawson used to play the piano; just well enough that you can recognise the tune, but just off-key enough to make it absolutely hilarious.
My apologies to her if she happens to be reading this, but she should take this as a consolation, for this leads me neatly to this morning’s tune. In 1998, Bragg joined forces with Wilco to put music to some of Woody Guthrie’s words which had until then been bereft of a tune. The result was the quite magnificent Mermaid Avenue album (a second volume followed in 2000), and on Thursday night we were treated to this little beauty, which contains the line “Ain’t nobody that sings like me”:
Billy Bragg & Wilco – Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key
I’ll now never be able to hear this song without thinking of her and Thursday night.
Needless to say, if Billy is playing anywhere near you, not just on this tour but ever, go see.
More soon.