It
has long been the case that most of the musicians I admire are either dead, mad
or in jail. Over the course of the last few years that sense has become even
more acute as the half-centenaries pass of bands I saw in my youth. Several
bands I have seen lately seems to contain one or more elderly survivors of the
late 1960’s with varying degrees of success. These are not so much ‘tribute acts’ but might
be better termed’ tributary bands’ which lay some claim to lineage from the
original. I have seen several at a sort of British Legion club locally which is
perhaps an appropriate venue. There I sporadically join with other ageing
veterans in an ongoing act of remembrance. It’s 100 years since WW1 ended and 50
years since I attended the first of the free shows in Hyde Park. As senility
sets in, turning out for these bands is perhaps more a ritual - ‘lest we
forget’- rather than a futile attempt to relive our long lost youth.
I
recently saw Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets at The Roundhouse, an old railway
shed. Most of the crowd looked as if they had come to spot trains. The audience
was 90%+ elderly males who collectively couldn’t muster enough hair to stuff a
pillowcase. Another consistent feature of these gigs is that there is always a hundred
yard queue for the Gents and not one for the Ladies. The Roundhouse itself has
been much spruced and sanitised in the 50 or so years since Nick Mason first
played there with Pink Floyd. Not an incense stick or collapsing jelly to be
seen anywhere and extremely unlikely that magic sugar cubes had been consumed by
any of the attendees. Many looked like they were mainlining Horlicks. It was,
nonetheless, a very enjoyable evocation of Pink Floyd in their psychedelic
heyday, a period now largely eschewed by
the other two surviving members, David Gilmour and Roger Waters. Nick
Mason has pulled a clever stroke in recognising that there is a significant
audience for that early material which can be mobilised by invoking his status
as one of the two surviving founder members of Pink Floyd. The demand for it might not be solely
nostalgic and confined to those old enough to have seen the original band
perform it back in the day. Those primarily familiar with Pink Floyd’s work
after Dark Side of the Moon may be
curious to hear what made the Floyd great initially. There is then the
possibility that the aged devotees of earlier Floyd music will in course be
supplemented by much younger folk.
The
economics of Heritage Rock are such that some of its older and wiser protagonists
might therefore enjoy a dotage which is more financially rewarding than the
prime of their music careers. One has to remember that Nick Mason was so hard
up in the 1980’s that he had to mortgage one of his Ferraris. Getting a few
thousand blokes to blow much of their Winter Heating Allowance on tickets for a
revival show is a very astute move. Another band I saw recently was MC50 led by
Wayne Kramer, an exuberant celebration of the MC5 which he founded in 1968 with
the late Fred Smith. The MC5 disintegrated after three albums in the late 60’s
and Kramer subsequently did drug addiction and jailtime. He re-emerged as an
articulate and amusing raconteur and bandleader and now has a crack team of
(slightly) younger grunge/ thrash musicians and a singer who is a most
remarkable facsimile of the late Rob Tyner. In the late 1960’s the MC5 were
occasionally one of the greatest rock bands ever but were seldom consistent or
reliable in performance. The tributary act, MC50, is currently the greatest
rock band you probably have never heard of. The show I attended was populated
with a similar crowd as that at The Roundhouse, all paying north of £50 a head.
We had our moneysworth as soon as the band struck up and sent the audience’s
comb-overs flapping. The floor was littered with discarded deaf-aids.
At
the opposite end of the spectrum Live Dead 69 played just down the road earlier
in the year. There were only about eighty people at the show, again mostly
elderly blokes.That band included Tom Constanten, who once played with the
Grateful Dead and others who had played with members of Jefferson Airplane and
the like. Constanten joined the Dead in 1968 and left in January 1970. He
played on their second and third albums and the majestic Live Dead. The set I saw this year was predominantly drawn from the
later Skull and Roses live album by
the Dead which he did not play on. The ‘tributary’ aspect was then altogether
more tenuous and the billings of ‘ex-Grateful Dead/ Jefferson Airplane/
Starship etc.’ , whilst accurate, slightly overstated . Unlike Mason or Kramer
these were not founder or lifetime members of the bands referred to. They nonetheless
delivered very competent renditions of
songs associated with the Grateful Dead, an undertaking which itself presents a
number of particular challenges. Not least is the fact that the several remaining
founder members of the Dead have continued to perform in various
combinations since the death of Jerry
Garcia in 1995. The afterlife of the Grateful Dead is itself the subject of a
whole book – Fare Thee Well by Joel
Selvin- a lengthy piece of scuttlebutt. A recent incarnation, Dead & Co,
has featured the execrable John Mayer on guitar and three original members of
the Grateful Dead. Why this is altogether less acceptable than having a bloke
from Spandau Ballet fulfill the Syd Barrett role in Saucerful of Secrets needs
further thought. I’ll get back to you on that. For the moment you can take it
that I will not be going to San Francisco to see a washed up popstar play the songs of
Jerry Garcia. I will, however, be going into town to see Gary Kemp jigging
around to Astronomy Domine again next Spring.
At
the same venue just down the road I also saw a band purporting to be Man ( the
‘Welsh Grateful Dead’) recently. That troupe was fronted by Martin Ace who did
indeed play the bass guitar with Man in several of their many incarnations. Given
their constantly changing personnel the
‘tributary’ element is even more problematic in this case. The only consistent
member of Man was Mickey Jones who died in 2010. His son, George, now fronts a band
called Son of Man which plays the same songs but has no original members of Man
in it. They appear, however, to be more popular in Man’s original home
territory than the band led by Martin Ace. On the other hand there are many who
fondly remember the music played by the original Man band(s) who take the view
that it is a good thing that several bands perpetuate that. In short, an audience
who are less concerned with the pedigree
of band members. Pink Floyd, the
Grateful Dead and many other major bands have spawned countless tribute acts.
Some of these have built a sound and profitable following with no claims on
authenticity relating to original membership. Many appear motivated by a
genuine love of the original artists and seek to faithfully replicate their
music. Some are extremely competent in their undertaking. Others introduce an
amusing or satirical element to their performance or render the original music
in an entirely different genre but are no less skilled in so doing. A bluegrass band playing Pink Floyd numbers
does have the virtue of some originality but the joke can wear rather thin and
make for a long evening. All that Saucerful of Secrets, Dead & Co and the
like offer over a skilled covers band is
perhaps that sometimes tenuous connection of one or more members with the
original band. Neither the tribute nor tributary band might offer much by way
of originality if they merely seek to replicate the sound of the original.
However, there seems to be a market for such replication.
An
altogether more innovative affair was David Byrne’s American Utopia show
wherein some of Talking Heads greatest hits are rendered as musical theatre. As
a mere youth of 66 Byrne is still engaged in a process of reinvention rather
than regurgitation. I have not previously endorsed behaviour involving
rigorously choreographed dance routines but tip my hat to Mr. Byrne for once
again confounding another of my long –held prejudices. So, whilst there is only
one member of Talking Heads on stage performing some of their songs from the
early 1970’s the overall feel was different from the shows described
above. It was not an homage to a long
defunct band but a radical reinterpretation of some of their songs. The
demographic of the audience was broader with more of a gender balance i.e. more
couples and a lower average age. That is
not to say that there were a lot of young
people there which is a shame. American Utopia is a show you could take
your grandchildren to see if your pension stretched that far.
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