This was a pun that tickled me as I borrowed money from Andy at the Gilbert O'Sullivan gig on Thursday evening. I won't explain it.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilbert_O'Sullivan
Andy, Christine and I travelled down to York to see the concert which was at the Grand Opera House. The journey down was smooth enough and we arrived and parked with minimum fuss and stress, thank goodness. I had a Governor's meeting which lasted until 4.30, and I was a little pessimistic about the time we might arrive, factoring in traffic, roadworks and getting parked in a city centre, but I needn't have worried.
The seating we had tickets for was right at the back and top of the theatre, and frankly it wasn't comfortable enough for us, so I had a word with the manager, explained that Andy had a terminal medical condition and that this gig was something his family, friends and support group had raised money for, so that he could enjoy one last thing before his imminent, and probably quite nasty demise. Before we knew it we had a private box to ourselves overlooking the stage. There was loads of space, and we could even stare directly at the rows and rows of ordinary people, packed in like battery hens with their miserable envious faces.
The concert was a bit of a pleasant surprise to all of us. Not that we weren't looking forward to it. The evening was essentially in two halves (no support act, thank goodness). The first set was mainly Gilbert and piano, and occasionally a couple of singers, or a bassist, string quartet or flute might be part of the arrangement. In the second set, he was joined by a drummer, guitarist and sax player, creating a quite large ensemble, that sounded really good. The venue was intimate enough for the sound to be good, and for us to feel like it was a personal gig, and Gilbert chatted to us between songs, and this was quite insightful.
Anyone who has listened to more than a couple of songs by G O'S will be aware that he's not afraid to sing about the darker, sadder things in life. Many of his songs are about loss or failure. Of course, not all of them are, but the fact is that that 2 hours of songs about failed relationships and parental bereavement might not leave one on a high. But that wasn't at all the effect of the evening. His conversation helped me to understand that he wasn't at all the bitter depressed loser that some of his songs lead me to suspect he might be, and that most of the time he's using fictional situations to explore the darker side of life and relationaships. He's actually quite a chirpy fella whose mental health seems to be nothing to lose sleep over. Phew.
The evening's music was presented in an informal way, which was really nice. A couple of false starts because he'd forgotten to set his keyboard in the right key, which he wasn't embarrassed about at all, and with some bands it might have taken the edge off a performance, but with Gilbert it actually made it more personal and real.
And of course he sang all the songs we wanted to hear. I like his music, not just because when I was growing up it was one of only a handful of LPs we had - so I listened to it a lot - but because I think he's an outstandingly gifted and much underrated songwrited. He writes deceptively complext songs, musically, but they're incredibly memorable, and really suit his characteristic, rather nasal voice. Songs like Clair, Alone Again Naturally, We Will, Why Oh Why Oh Why, Nothing Rhymed, Get Down, Do Wakka Do Wakka Day and others were all there. But also some of his new stuff from the latest album, A Scruff at Heart.
These new songs were interesting, and just as good as any he's ever written. They're also very memorable, and tackle subjects as diverse as bullying, divorce, concrete and standing on other people's feet. His piano style is very percussive - I don't think he uses the sustain pedal at all, but once you get used to it (clunky might be an unkind description) it's actually quite refreshing to hear a piano being used in a slightly different way - reminiscent at times to Tom Waits, in a bizarre way.
The effect was an evening of music at times poigniant, at times amujzing, at times heartwarming, and ultimately uplifting. His best songs were accompanied my video projection of his TV appearances and home movies in the days when he had massive silly hair and awful dress sense. He still has massive silly hair and awfull dress sense, by the way, and looks absolutely no different now to how he looked 30 years ago. He's one of the few people alive to make Brian May seem visually cool . But that's great. He's doing what he wants to do, and looking like he wants to look, clearly unwilling to bow to the pressures of acceptible modern aesthetic and fashion. I admire that.
And on top of all that, the interval music was Steely Dan's Everything Must Go - another of my favourites. What are the chances of the same venue playing such diverse music at one time?
Before our journey North, we stopped off at Salt and Vinegar, a delightful fast food place on North Street, and had some lovely chips (all except Andy of course, unless he chooses to admit to it) and then sped Newbigginwards, impeded only once by a wayward traffic cone which had blown into the lane I was using on the A1, and rather EXPLETIVE DELETED the front of my car, completely vaporizing a fog light and cracking the bumper. Still though, we are alive, and it wasn't as scary as when I nearly killed 7 of us driving into a huge lorry on the way back from Steely Dan earlier in the year.
So there. I like his new album - good songs, interesting instrumentation (no drums or bass or guitars, but creative use of vocals, string quartet and brass). And I'm not ashamed to be a Gilbert O'Sullivan fan.
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