|Live Reviews March/April 2009|
Quick-links to sub-sections:
PJ Harvey and John Parish - Bridport Arts Centre - 12th March 2009
South By South West Festival - Austin, Texas - 18th-22nd March 2009
Peter Bruntnell, The Whybirds and Jim Jones - Ent Shed , Bedford - 14th March 2009
America with Michael Weston King - The Barbican Hall, London - 22nd March 2009
Groanbox Boys/Sleepy Eyes Nelson - Lauries Bar, Glasgow - 1st April 2009.
Darker My Love - The Lexington London - 18th April 2009
Elliott Brood / Two Fingers of Firewater - Railway Inn, Winchester - 1st March 2009
Peter Bruntnell Band + Emily Barker & Red Clay Halo + Jim Jones - Railway Inn, Winchester - 10th March 2009-
John Renbourn and Robin Williamson - Hitchin Folk Club at the Sun Inn Hitchin - 19th April 2009
Gurf Morlix - Brel, Glasgow - 29th April 09.
The Zombies - Hammersmith Apollo, London - 25th April 2009
|Reviews this month for PJ Harvey and John Parish, the SXSW festival, Peter Bruntnell, The Whybirds and Jim Jones, America with Michael Weston King, Groanbox Boys/Sleepy Eyes Nelson, Darker My Love, Elliott Brood / Two Fingers of Firewater and Peter Bruntnell Band with Emily Barker & Red Clay Halo plus Jim Jones, John Renbourn and Robin Williamson, Gurf Morlix and finally the Zombies.|
|PJ Harvey and John Parish - Bridport Arts Centre - 12th March 2009|
Review by Oliver Gray
Among family and friends in this quaint converted chapel is the traditional point of departure for all PJ Harvey world tours. Addressing the wardrobe issues caused by her belted shroud with good humour, Polly was on sparkling form, safely surrounded by some of the world’s most outstanding musicians. Sporting more trilbies and mafia suits than a Leonard Cohen convention, John Parish and his colleagues helped Polly to take flight on almost all the new album and, pleasingly, a good chunk of 1996’s Dance Hall At Louse Point as well. Extraordinary variety was the keynote, from the gentle falsetto of “Leaving California” to the expletive-laden lunacy of “A Woman A Man Walked By” and the genuinely barking “Pig Will Not” (yes, she barks). Particularly exciting was the revival of fantastic older songs like the lugubrious “Rope Bridge Crossing” (one of this duo’s finest hours) and “Circles Around The Sun”, but most thrilling of all was the confirmation that music of this outstanding quality can still command a large and enthusiastic audience. A satisfying triumph all round.
|South By South West Festival - Austin, Texas - 18th-22nd March 2009|
Review by Oliver Gray
Each year you think SxSW can’t get any better and each year it confounds you. Where else could you wander in the sunshine between the hillbilly folk of Justin Townes Earle and the studded leather jumpsuits of Hot Leg, Justin Hawkins’ post-Darkness parody? If you wanted, you could queue for Metallica or Kanye West, but as usual, the most fun was to be had stumbling on unannounced gems on the fringes. Here you could find the two drummers of a crazed And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead being outgunned by the five bass guitars of Shout Out Out Out Out in the multiple instrument stakes, or the pomp of the Decemberists being outclassed by the sublime shoegazing of Shearwater. Ah, Shearwater. They made me fear the alcohol had finally taken too much of a toll on me. Having heard their late-night performance at the plushy Hilton Garden Inn, I walked the next morning the hour and a half to the Mean Eyed Cat, to find them in the middle of performing the same (very good) show to a different audience. Talk about Groundhog Day.
AUK readers are well aware of Toronto’s Six Shooter Records and their artists. Equally legendary is the Tequila-drenched annual afternoon hootenanny they host at Headhunters Club, where their artists, hung-over but still buzzing from their label showcase the night before, play short sets of their favourite songs. The likes of Luke Doucet, Melissa McClelland and NQ Arbuckle spread the fun around. The previous evening, Elliott Brood had issued the audience with baking trays and wooden spoons, creating percussion mayhem.
Other oddities were the surreal experience of Bauhaus goth hero Pete Murphy, complete with uncool bald patch and eccentric speechmaking. In a similar vein, the Blue Aeroplanes’ Gerard Langley was reading his lyrics from a printed crib-sheet, much like a politician with an autocue. Portland’s Peter Broderick is the first virtuoso of the saw since Mercury Rev’s Jonathan Donahue. And of course, there were the inevitable disappointments. I waked miles to catch current vogue bands The Soft Pack, Black Lips and Delta Spirit, and all of them were nondescript.
Selecting highlights is tough, but here goes. Best new discovery: Copenhagen’s Asteroids Galaxy Tour, who have charm, beauty, cool pop songs and funky horns. Most exciting moment: nearly being asphyxiated in the moshpit for a gloriously decadent Primal Scream in a venue the size of a matchbox. Most moving music: A massively hung-over Jason Lytle making his post-Grandaddy comeback at the Mohawk Patio at Saturday lunchtime. Best show: A knockout blow by PJ Harvey and John Parish, completely flattening the capacity crowd at Stubbs, previously baffled by a washed-up Razorlight. Now surely SxSW 2010 can’t get any better?
|Peter Bruntnell, The Whybirds and Jim Jones - Ent Shed , Bedford - 14th March 2009|
Review by Keith Hargreaves
£10. It doesn’t sound much and especially these days with the talk of billions lost and millions swindled it sounds like even less, but for just £10 a man could walk into a packed auditorium and catch three great live sets courtesy of those wonderful folks at East-West promotions. Surely they should be a charity?
A packed hall with standing room only ( and that was tight) saw Jim Jones take to the stage and silence any chit chat with his emotive confessionals and keening ballads. A troubadour in the real sense – just guitar, lyrics and voice. And what a voice, with more than hint of Bruce by way of Taunton rather than New Jersey. The songs came mainly from his new album ‘Daylight and Stars’ and each one was clearly defined did not pale into a general soup which is often the case with a new singer/songwriter introducing new material. It was the quality of the songs and the added splashes of colour provided by Dave Little that lifted this set well above the run of the mill. £10’s worth already – easily!
Next up ‘The Whybirds’ – unknown to this correspondent but not from now on. They blasted into their set with a two song segue that dropped many a jaw. Here were four men plainly in love with 1973, beards from The Joy of Sex, four part harmonies and ‘twin axe attack’. Skynyrd meets The Faces meets Steve Miller and Bob Seger in East Anglia. And the songs…. The songs were complex West coast and Little Feat all sung by different members at different times. They took the roof off the Shed and looked good for another hour. These boys have the songs and musical chops to be very big, if the Kings of Leon can fill stadiums then so can The Whybirds. £10 – can you believe it??! And so can Peter Bruntnell, I’m not sure he’d want to though.
The headliner was indeed that. A taut and complex meal mainly taken from the Murder of Crows album the evening built into a surprisingly emotional affair as the material opened up to reveal its heart and the depth of the song writing talent on display. Danny Williams on Double bass was the only rhythm section – a dark solid backbone, Dave Little on harmonium and guitars an excellent foil for the shapes made by PB’s guitar. The Shed was enthralled for over an hour by this most mercurial of talents. Thank you East West . A stunning night.
|America with Michael Weston King - The Barbican Hall, London - 22nd March 2009|
Review by Andy Riggs
In my opinion Michael Weston King is a lost treasure - in the last few years he has released two top records, ‘A Decent Man’ and ‘A Different Kind of Loneliness’ – these two records demonstrated his lyrical strengths. On those two records MWK was joined by the likes of Chris Hillman, Herb Pederson, Ian McNabb, Jackie Leven & Ron Sexsmith and despite this, these two records received little attention.
Touring with America will at least give MWK exposure to a wider audience and on the evidence from tonight’s brief set (about 30 minutes) he is and will be well received; he also appeared to enjoy the banter with his self-depreciating humour.
The last time I saw America they were just about to release their debut record in 1971, and they were playing some very small venues. I saw them at the now defunct Greyhound Croydon, and over the intervening years they disappeared off my radar as their soft rock sound descended into AOR rock. In fairness they were always seen as the poor man’s Eagles. They reappeared on my radar last year with their new record ‘Here & Now’ which saw Ryan Adams, Ben Kweller, Adam Schlesinger (FOW), Jim James (MMJ) & Rusty Young (Poco) joining in with the sing writing, playing & production - I bought the record and it is very good.
America are now a duo having lost Dan Peek to Jesus many years ago, so Dewey Bunnell & Gerry Beckley appeared with a full band for a 90 minute set taking us from ‘Ventura Highway’ through to more recent recordings. It was a pleasantly enjoyable evening with many songs standing the test of time – in particular ‘Sandman’, ‘Tin Man’, ‘Hollywood’ and the finale of ‘Horse With No Name’ which saw MWK join the band for a sing along.
|Groanbox Boys/Sleepy Eyes Nelson - Lauries Bar, Glasgow - 1st April 2009.|
Review by Paul Kerr
Plying on away ground against the Scottish national football squad might explain the poor turnout for this gig tonight but in the end the few who eschewed the football turned out winners. The Groanbox Boys performed a set that was the rootsiest Americana I’ve seen in a long, long time. Comprising accordion, strings (guitar, banjo, gourd) and the greatest collection of weird percussion ever, this was a night of primitive, atavistic mojo churning fun.
Able to whip up a storm, as on opener “Shards of Time (Talisman) they also played intricate jazzy ensemble pieces with elements of sea shanties and European and Slavic influences peeking through. ”Hobo Heaven” was delivered beautifully and reminded one of what a fine song it is. While Cory Seznec and Michael Ward-Bergeman (with some amazing sounds emerging from his accordion) played well it was percussionist Paul Clifford who held ones attention. With a calabash (gourd shell), an old piece of a yew tree and various implements he unleashed a torrent of sounds. Hammering, stroking, hitting, whistling and eventually grabbing their Freedom boot (a six foot pole garnished with 420 bottle caps, a boot and fetish symbols) he was at times shamanistic. A rip roaring night, you should catch them if they come near you.
The evening was opened by local musician, Sleepy Eyes Nelson. He played some old time blues songs very much in the manner of Lightin’ Hopkins, Mississippi John Hurt and Son House. Of course numerous white guys over the years have done so but Nelson has an uncanny knack of sounding so very authentic. Songs of bad luck, razors and slicing were slightly unsettling in this city were all too often such tales are the daily news. An excellent guitar player Nelson is only let down by his unassuming stage presence, letting the music speak for itself.
|Darker My Love - The Lexington London - 18th April 2009|
Review by Patrick Wilkins
Seems to me there's a danger that people will forget what to properly do with electric guitars, and we’ll be awash with earnest Coldplay impersonators or folky strummers trying not to sound like Morrissey, thankfully we have bands such as Darker My Love to remind us how it should be done.
DML have been touring Europe with A Place To Bury Strangers (and DeadConfederate and someone else), an admittedly appealing four band line up, but not as appealing as a DML headlining show. The Lexington, just down the road from King’s Cross, is basically a big old Victorian pub converted into 'an American whiskey bar' (25 American whiskeys on offer), plus a self consciously groovy juke box, perfect for the London hipster doofus. The band was playing in the room above the pub, nice layout (with a glorious mirror ball!), the place probably held 300 or so if full. Even at a very reasonable fiver a ticket the crowd seemed thin but when the band strolled on at about 10.15 there's probably 60-80 people in the place, so comfortable conditions.
After some opening Quicksilver Messenger Service-meets-Ride psychedelic shimmer, the band move into the recognisable 'Claws and Paws' from their first record ‘Summer Is Here’. Apart from the fact that the keyboards are not very audible, the sound is excellent, and reassuringly loud, drummer Andy Granelli sounding particularly crisp and clear. The rippling riffage of 'Claws and Paws' morphs seamlessly into a thundering 'Blue Day' from the second record. This is spectacularly effective, the grinding swirling riff sounding like something the Stone Roses should have put on 'Second Coming'. There are also a lot of 60s references, and not just in the music, Tim Presley looks like he’s escaped from an audition for the Byrds, a mop of unruly hair, drainpipe jeans, and a guitar strap so short that his guitar (a Fender Jazzmaster) sits high on his chest. Some of the white noise/JAMC fuzz of touring partners A Place to Bury Strangers had filtered into Tim Presley's sound, although already no stranger to that style, his gyrating energetic playing had a bit more haze and mystery to it than on the previous occasions I’ve seen the band. The other main writer, bassist, and fellow vocalist, Rob Barbato, sports an impressive civil war beard.
Musically you hear Quicksilver, to the point that you wish they'd burst into 'Mona' or 'Who Do You Love' and get it over with, other songs wander into your mind like Creedence's 'Run Through The Jungle', Them's 'Baby Please Don’t Go', the Nazz's 'Open Your Eyes', and Floyd's 'Careful With That Axe Eugene'. DML’s second record ('2') is poppier than the first, and to acknowledge the fact it has the word 'Pop' written on the back of the CD cover in about 150pt, but live the poppy material got the psych-fuzz overhaul, so as a result the Oasis-like 'Northern Soul' became much more threatening and dangerous, 'Pale Sun' sparkled with menace, and even the Supergrass lift, 'Two Ways Out', whacked you repeatedly round the head. The set closed with a fantastic double burst of energy, the band tend to fuse all the songs together, but a rare pause came to an abrupt end with rhythm guitarist, the excellent Jared Everett, hitting the instantly recognisable garage riff of 'Summer Is Here', the whoop of recognition providing evidence of fans in the crowd, rather than mere curious onlookers. At this point I was thinking this band should only make live records, to prove me right they ripped into a thrilling, adrenalised and frightening 'Helium Heels'. I was close to levitating. A set of about an hour, near perfect and utterly utterly beautiful.
|Elliott Brood / Two Fingers of Firewater - Railway Inn, Winchester - 1st March 2009|
Review by Mike Plumbley
Another intriguing bill at the Railway Inn; Elliott Brood in from Canada, Two Fingers of Firewater down from Guildford, two bands totally unknown to me.
The rough edge of the sound tonight didn’t deter either band. The five piece Two Fingers of Firewater were ballsy, the songs anchored by electric piano and to my far side a young guy laying down pent up pedal steel. Drums and bass drove the beat hard and it was perfect set to kick start the evening with.
Elliott Brood, a trio, took up the baton with an unusual line up. To the far side was a guy with a wired acoustic, sitting on a chair cocked towards a central mike. Between him and a vocalist / banjo / electric acoustic player sat a drummer ready to take up the sticks and get going. When they did, it was at a belting pace.
Elliott Brood strained their songs through classic country and rock’n’roll laced with old timey banjo and burlesque, and it worked. They’re from Six Shooter Records but nothing like any of the preceding bands that have come through here. They have their own individual sound, tonight’s set perhaps being determined by the lead vocalist’s sore tonsils but no matter, that didn’t take any of the shine off the gig which reminded me of a soundtrack for an offbeat movie classic, kind of songs I imagine spilling out of an old beat up radio as the Buick slips across the border, chasing the ghost of Buddy from Lubbuck to Clovis, New Mexico .
There was an irresistible beat to it all and the drummer hit the skins with the relentless drive of Elvin Jones. In fact, when I spoke to him afterwards, he said Pat LaBarbara, Elvin’s saxophonist ,had been his music teacher, “not for drums though ...”
There was a dark humour about the songs and even more so when the string players fetched a pair of well beaten ukuleles. The vocalist explained that at the previous night’s gig they were joined on stage by a drunk who wreaked havoc amongst their instruments, particularly the ukulele. As a rank amateur uke player myself I found these detours delightful and lapped up the vaudeville flavour of the tune.
The encores were a homage to one of the band’s influences, Neil Young’s finest, Crazy Horse. Must have been thirty years ago the last time I heard the songs, though not live, and it was great to hear the way they conjured up Crazy Horse in their own inimitable way that put a final indelible stamp on the night for me. I hope they pass this way again.
|Peter Bruntnell Band + Emily Barker & Red Clay Halo + Jim Jones - Railway Inn, Winchester - 10th March 2009-|
Review by Mike Plumbley
Tonight was a classic gig from beginning to end. I like to get to the Railway early be sure to catch the opening act, tuck myself in close to the stage in this haven from the blare of soulless beer joints, among a tight knit crowd out for a night of great music. And this trio of acts in from the road bring it on in style.
Jim Jones, like Peter Bruntnell and band, is up from Devon. The songs are deep and heartfelt, he’s unrushed in uncoiling them and they sink right in on a first listening. A song or so in, he’s joined by Dave Little, who plugs in an electric guitar and adds a haunting line to The Road To You. I’m stood there, cradling my cheap Mexican beer, listening to the guitar work and song thinking of how Ray Wylie Hubbard once described Terry Buffalo Ware’s playing as ‘tearing off little fragments of his soul to colour the songs.’ Phew, the bar was set and it never fell. The song of Jim Jones that convinced me to part with my folding stuff was Evelyn. A good friend had a bad time of it last year, her name is Evelyn. I think she’ll love the song as much as I love the new album Daylight and Stars, recalling as it does the tone and swell of this great opening set.
It took a bit of sound checking to sort out Emily Barker and Red Clay Halo. There was fiddle, flute, accordion, cello and Emily Barker’s guitar and the sound guy got it spot on as far as I can tell. ‘The bottom was low and the treble’s clear’ as Townes would have said. Emily Barker is an Australian who’s been here for a while, but I hadn’t realised she and the Red Clay Halo did the theme to the ‘Wallander’ detective series.
The classical ambience of the girls lent itself to Emily’s gentle voice and the music and singing was evocative of the song of the Sirens that bewitches the hobo in the Cohen’s ‘Brother Where Art Thou’. The combination of flute with fiddle and cello really worked with Emily Barker’s vocal, it was all subtle and superbly sung and played.
As complement to the final act, both opening sets were perfect and as the Peter Bruntnell Band moved onto the stage, I began to think back to a time when I spent time more time in the Metropolis than I do now. I’m thinking of the night a young unknown songwriter called Slaid Cleaves from New Hampshire opened at the Borderline, followed by Carrie Newcomer and her band, ably helped out by Terry Buffalo Ware before that ‘dangerous spirit’ Ray Wylie Hubbard took the stage and poured out that Oklahoma hoodoo rhythm he carries with him deep from the heart of Texas.
There was a symmetry about that evening which was being repeated right before me tonight. The Peter Bruntnell Band are a trio, a dangerously spirited trio who began with an almost raga like riff that resounded off the walls. I am in awe of it from the opening bars right to the end of the night. The way Dave Little opens up the heart of Peter Bruntnell’s songs with his lead guitar licks and touches of Indian harmonium and how Danny Williams’ double bass lines tug against the syllables and underpin the vocal with gorgeous deep mellow bowed notes.
There is just a natural sense of energy about this band and Peter Bruntnell’s songs shine, his laconic sense of story, time and space fits it all like a glove. I know next to nothing about him, save he comes up from Devon and shares his songwriting with a transatlantic soul brother called Bill Ritchie.
What he and his band bring to this small back bar is a kind of gem plucked out of the ether: beautifully crafted songs, performed with a passion and honed and coloured by the road dirt on them. Were she not up in the metropolis my daughter would have flipped tonight to have heard Peter Bruntnell sing ‘Close of Winter’ and ‘Sea of Japan’ from the latest album, ‘Peter and The Murder of the Crows’. He sang them with an aching grace that had stunned her the first time she heard them.
Amongst the set, ‘John’ remains for me one of those turns in the road that leads to the unexpected. Peter Bruntnell explains that he wrote it after watching the Johnny Cash biopic ‘Walk The Line’. influenced by a tale “which may not be true but it’s a good story . . . Elvis wrote love letters to June Carter and Johnny found them and threw them in the river . . .”. A cracking story and a belting song, which has that kind of Sun Studio, Memphis backbeat to it that makes you want to head straight back to Tennessee.
It was a gem of a set, littered with pearls and very little chat; the songs, as they say, said it all. Unexpected was the encore of a Roy Harper song about autumn and a final couple of classic song from the Bruntnell back catalgue. The hour was late and, long overdue, I took home a copy of Ghost In A Spitfire.
I miss a lot of trains, but then I catch some blinders too. Like the dangerous spirits in from the road tonight.
|John Renbourn and Robin Williamson - Hitchin Folk Club at the Sun Inn Hitchin - 19th April 2009|
Review by Jonathan Aird
This was a double header for the pair that have previously toyed with touring as The Impenetrable String Tangle. If there was a competition for the original psych-folk artists then John Renbourn (Pentangle) and Robin Williamson (Incredible String Band) would both have excellent cases to make. This outing had the added attraction of being John Renbourn's last tour (or so he is reported to have said), so it was no wonder that the venue was packed out. The stage was cluttered as well - Robin's harp, mandolin, drum, various cases for pipes and whistles, and also somewhere for John to plug his guitar into.
Initially I thought it was going to be more of a John Renbourn gig as early offerings included his live staples Great Dream of Heaven and Early in the Spring and a truly haunting The Snows with Robin providing eerie whistle backing to John's rumbling vocal and melancholic guitar. A dramatic resetting of Absolutely Sweet Marie as a harp tune with elongated enunciation of the lyrics really bringing out Dylan's sarcasm swung the spotlight onto Robin Williamson, as did what can only be described as a mesmeric Sir Patrick Spens - sung in a bitter hectoring tone over a hypnotic harp rhythm - sensational. Another Dylan song - Buckets of Rain - closed out the first set.
Williamson's natural ability as a raconteur led to many of the songs in the second set being introduced by him with appropriate stories, with John Renbourn seemingly happy to take a bit of a backseat - although his wonderful fluid playing was a constant joy. Amongst others there was some blues harp - that's blues played on the harp, Irish music hall - The Blarney Roses, and some traditional - The Lights of Sweet St. Annes and some tunes. Despite clearly explaining that it's too hard to do the offstage-onstage encore thing when you have to lug a harp around, the relentless applause did elicit a final 2 song encore including the sing-along Wang Dang Doodle.
A great evening - if this really was the last time I'll see John Renbourn live then I can't say I wouldn't have liked a bit more, but then I've never seen Robin Williamson live before and I can only hope he'll return to Hitchin Folk Club soon. They obviously enjoy performing as a duo, and they make a fine sound, there are a few dates left on the tour so, if you can ....
|Gurf Morlix - Brel, Glasgow - 29th April 09.|
Review by Paul Kerr
An Americana legend, the superbly named Morlix is touring solo promoting his most recent album, “Last Exit to Happyland” (9/10 review on Americana UK). A packed crowd heard him translate many of the songs from the album from full blown swampish rockers into gripping renditions on acoustic guitar and percussive foot stomps with his unique vocals providing a bridge.
From the start when he launched into “One More Second,” the opening song on the album, Morlix’s world of downtrodden, battered and desperate losers sprang into life. A song about a killer regretting the instant he did the deed its cinematic quality was enhanced by what was an aural equivalent of the slo mo “bullet time” from the Matrix movies as he sang “ I watched the bullet leave the gun, carve its trail, what have I done? I saw it spinning, winding its way…” Gripping stuff.
With a firm hand on his guitar, dextrous and inventive, Morlix continued to spellbind his audience with songs ranging from his childhood immersion in late night radio, tender tributes to friends such as Ian McLagen and Warren Zevon, to an amazingly lyrical and moving “She’s a River. ” On a new song, another desperado who sang “ the judge gave me life but he was mistaken, I ain’t got a life, my life’s been taken.” A highlight was “I Got Nothin” which, stripped of its studio trappings sounded like a kin to Dylan’s “Ballad in Plain D.”
However, as the man said tonight, he doesn’t think his songs are all darkness and despair but are light and uplifting. He leavened his noirish side with entertaining (and uplifting) introductions, tales of the famed beer soaked legend that was Blaze Foley and, unexpectedly, covers of some Beatles’ songs (including “Don’t Pass Me By,” written, as Gurf said, by the coolest Beatle alive). Lascivious renditions of Milkcow Blues and Jellyroll blues had the crowd singing along and he ended with advice to the audience to live this one life they have as he performed a soulful version of “This May Be the Last Time,” as previously purveyed by The Blind Boys of Alabama. A craftsman at the top of his craft.
|The Zombies - Hammersmith Apollo, London - 25th April 2009|
Review by Mike Hurle
Occasionally a band reunion is something special and makes it an unmissable occasion, Hammersmith Apollo in April was one of those times. The four surviving members of the Zombies reformed for a repeat one off performance of last year’s ‘Odyssey and Oracle’ gig.
The audience before ‘the event’ were treated to several Rod Argent and Colin Blunstone solo songs including a wonderful rendition of ‘Say You Don’t Mind’ complete with a string quartet. Rod’s pre-interval ‘Hold your head up’ got the crowd singing along to the old Argent number after which it was back in our seats and straight into a note perfect performance of the whole of ‘Odyssey and Oracle.’ With the help of strings and wind wood accompaniments, all 12 songs masterly created exactly the much loved album from 40 years ago. Chris White singing ‘The Butcher’s Tale’ and the final song of the album ‘Time of the Season’ were two singled out highlights of the evening.
‘She’s Not There’ and the early version of ‘In the Summertime’ ended a unique event, with Rod telling the crowd that this would be the very last outing for ‘Odyssey’ made the evening even that more special.