A Night Out with Graham Parker (and Brinsley Schwartz)

Venue:

Artrix, Bromsgrove

Date: 30/09/2016

Pepped up by Tigger’s review of the boxset, it was only yesterday I sought a ticket for this, and barely 24 hours later, here I am to hear the Parkerilla recall the legendary goodwill of Bromsgrove audiences. I can’t believe he has ever played this tiny theatre, perhaps 300 souls, even if that, but perfect for this sort of set, no frills, light shows or theatrics, just 2 seasoned performers doing what they do best. Graham Parker, tinier and friendlier than memory serves, on harp, kazoo and a massive acoustic guitar, Brinsley Schwartz, the man, not his eponymous band, on a tiny electric. (Perhaps it was the perspective, Schwartz’s XXL against Parker’s S.) Diving straight into a glorious “Watch the Moon Come Down”, the duo treatment worked a treat, Parker singing and strumming, voice unaltered, whilst fluid licks sprung effortlessly from Schwartz’s fingers. With 39 odd years of songs to choose from, it was always going to be a challenge what would make the cut, but we were assured he would be giving a lot of old stuff, duly delivered, perhaps with the most exposure to “Howlin’ Wind” and “Heat Treatment”, his first 2 outings, illustrating each song with anecdotage aplenty from the day. “Silly Thing” was an especial delight. Songs were often slowed to give credence to the non-band setting, “Fools Gold” being described as either a waltz or a sea shanty, “New York Shuffle” prefaced by a burst of guitar at the speed played in the 1970s. A smattering of songs came from the recent Rumour reunion, holding up well by the comparison, my only disappointment being the seeming randomness of choices to delineate the interim years. One song from “Mona Lisa’s Sister” and nothing from “Struck by Lightning”, a personal favourite. There was however an odd song about wearing socks and sandals, called probably just that, reminding that under his bluster, a streak of sentimentality lurks counter to expectation, but that is there, somewhere, in most of his recordings. I also questioned “Discovering Japan” as being worthy a marker of the “Squeezing out Sparks” album. Nothing from “Up Escalator.” Schwartz was given a chance to plug and play a song from his first solo release, available here ahead of any general release, before the duo wound down into the final few songs, closing with “White Honey.” The encore saw Parker, alone, wreak every last drop out of possibly his best song, the is it pro, is it con abortion song, “You Can’t be too Strong”, before Schwartz rejoined him for a second kazoo song, good for my bladder, and, finally, a celebratory close with “Hold Back the Night.”

The audience:

Mature, clearly, more pates than an italian deli in Paris, but fans, clutching bags of vinyl for signing, one front row fella waving the box set at GP, being given the setlist at the end as a reward: “well, we’ve sold at least one” stated the singer.

It made me think..

Lovely, lovely show in a good setting. Yes, I can and did quibble as to the songs, but, hey, my favourites aren’t everybodies and vice versa. They were all played well and with love and affection; Mr Parker could easily be a bitter curmudgeon, bemoaning the theft of his career as times changed. Instead he seems to be happy in his skin, comfortable with a repertoire bigger than many and, I hope, a living sufficient to his needs, playing for the pleasure of being paid to please.

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