Cutting through the pungent aroma of Old Spice aftershave and perfumed talc like a hot rusty knife through melted butter, we made our way to our superbly placed seats in the 1800 capacity Philharmonic Hall.
For in this art deco building from the 1930's, we were to witness Rumours of Fleetwood Mac. A tribute act that has been around for over 13 years with more than 400 major shows to their name.
Myself and my companion, with no reservations, were excited, apprehensive and yet thrilled at the prospect of watching this band who hail from Liverpool.
Fleetwood Mac are a little bit like Lobster. I've always like them, and they ARE magnificent, yet I only indulge once every blue moon when the ying is in line with the yang.
I will confess that I am not the biggest fan on god's 'Peter' Green earth, yet every song I have had the pleasure of knowing has filled me with a wonderous sense of contentment and intrigue.
Not unlike the Rolling Stones. I love the Stones, and every song I have ever heard on the radio has appeased me no end, yet I have never bought a single album in my life. Maybe other bands took up a warmer precedent in my heart. I don't know.
I knew that one of the girls had a boy's name and that one of the boys had a girl's name (Stevie, Lindsay). Like many other people, I have heard Fleetwood Mac's music countless times on the radio and diluted within many classic films. I profess to not knowing ALL the song names. So there was always going to be THAT situation where you turn to your companion mid-song and, with a wide-eyed false all-knowing look, mutter the words: "Didn't know this was by them!"
So as the Liverpudlian Macs took to the stage a video message played on the big overhead screen. A man with a head the size of a bass drum appeared. It was Mick Fleetwood himself.
He gave an exquisite intro to Rumours, which judging on looks alone, he must have been slightly jealous that this tribute band hadn't destroyed themselves with heroin and mindless affairs. Yet he was sincere in telling us how good they were.
So they kicked off the show with Rhiannon and Running in The Shadows, followed by Little Lies. The Stevie Nicks of the band, I have to point out straight away, was nothing short of amazing. I can't emphasise enough how good a singer this woman was. Along with the Christine McVie, they had not only managed to recreate their vocal harmonies, but also their individuality.
The women left the stage and left the men to beef it up with late 1960's Fleetwood Mac songs such as Black MagicWoman, Need Your Love so Bad and Man of The World. Following closely behind was the ethereal Albatross and Landslide.
Now I have to say that at this juncture, and I am VERY sorry to all Fleetwood Mac fans if I get some of the song titles wrong, but I had possibly ran out of songs that I knew!
So it was with much revelry and self indulgence when they played The Chain and Go Your Own Way. The Chain is one of those songs which sadly, is now synonomous in British culture with a TV programme, that being F1. Yet in its entirety is a masterpiece. And played live to an appreciative, yet distinctly old audience was a joy to behold.
They completed the anthology with Don't Stop and then Tusk, the title song from the same album. By this time the Old Spice and abhorrent talcum powder stench had fused happily within the shell-like theatre.
Do not undervalue my weak attempts at praising a tribute band for which I have never owned an album. For they were absolutely wonderful. At times 1970's personified, at other times beautiful and serene. All other times magical.
An absolutely wonderous evening and I cannot believe that this is the first time I have seen them. Although I was a tad apprehensive to admit to my companion upon departing that, "I reckon that's right up my mum and dad's street, they would love that!".
So I say this to the wandering musical nomads of Rumours - Don't Stop.
10/10
Denise Welch's mum dies on star's birthday
(Tue 22/05)
Bold Management showcase @ Revolution
(Thu 17/05)
Post a comment