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Boo Hewerdine - The Borderline, Soho - 25 September 2001
After a sublime set by the
great guitarist Colin Reid, with lots of humorous Belfast
banter that I've not had the pleasure of hearing before (he's usually just
the silent man in black), he and his 'string section' left the stage, with
Colin returning five minutes later with Boo's massive (compared to his own)
guitar (what did you think I was going to say?) and left it on the stage for
him. So Colin was doubling as a roadie, though he looked more like a
bouncer with his newly shorn head, which was the subject of much discussion
and booed vociferously by a friend in the audience who clearly prefers furrier mammals.
So, in comparison, Boo looked positively hairy when he took to the tiny stage of the
basement club at 9.45pm, although his own hair was cropped short, but at
least present and accounted for. He was unusually wearing a black shirt,
perhaps inspired by the Johnny Cash look of Colin, and apparently bothered by
the presumably tight cuffs, which he left unbuttoned. On taking the stage,
Boo understated, 'That Colin Reid's quite good at guitar, inne?' Someone in
the audience commented, perhaps in an effort to reassure him, that Boo had
more hair than Colin though. Boo thought about that but then wisely concluded that
there was more to it than hair. No doubt he was referring to the recent
conclusive scientific study that compared the talent of Z Z Top with
Australia's Midnight Oil.
Boo launched into The Border as his first number, a lovely song that seemed
to be about indecisiveness that gave him plenty of opportunity to howl--not
in the literal sense as Eddi Reader does whilst performing Wolves live, but in a
moving sense. The sound in the small club, filled with about 80 fully
attentive (minus two, which I shall explain later) Boo-fan bodies (spanning
an astonishing range of ages, though no toddlers), was hardly perfect, but
clear enough so you could melt at the sound of Boo's wonderful full voice
and feel the base notes of his guitar bounce internally throughout your
system.
He introduced the next song as being one that Eddi sings, which reminded me
of when Eddi, at the Cambridge Folk Festival last year claimed complete
ownership of Footsteps Fall by acting astonished when people requested it,
since her new album, containing that song, had not yet been released, so how did we know of it--when the request was for Boo to sing a song he had
released long before. Now here was Boo handing this song over to her, in a
sense, when most of us surely think of it as a Boo song, although I suppose
she did release it first. No matter, it was lovely that he was planning to
perform Bell, Book and Candle. Boo muttered that Eddi had said she would be
coming that night, but had abandoned him, and put on a puppy dog look that
got sympathy from the audience that was just as convincing as his assertion
that Eddi should have been there. Talented as Eddi Reader is, I doubt
anyone at the Borderline last night would have wanted her to spoil a truly
stupendous solo performance that managed to exorcise that song from my brain
most pleasantly, as I had been humming it for the two days before the
concert, for some reason. Even Boo looked overwhelmed by the beauty of his
own delivery, and justifiably, as he sat back and slumped in his chair when
he finished.
That was almost the last time I saw Boo, other than the odd glimpse of his
nose here and one of his ears there....We were just a few feet from the
stage, with only one layer of people in front of us, but unfortunately the
two people sitting side by side in front of us were the most loverly cuddly
adorable Care Bears in the land. Or they struck me more as a pair of
genuine lovebirds, you know like in the Hitchcock film? Not Psycho, though
that film was weighing heavily on my mind at the time, but The Birds.
They
no doubt were enjoying the concert but were enjoying each other so much
more, and had to lean into each other every 26 seconds (we timed it) to
whisper as much into the other's ear--have many extensive chats, in fact--to
fondle the other's head, to rub the other's back and other
unspeakables--none of my business, I know, but when it's done inches in
front of your face and blocks the tiny opening of space through which
you had happily been watching Boo, it grows a bit irksome, not to mention,
we all agreed, incredibly nauseating. It also forced several of us into
some sideways headbanging, to the undefined rhythm of the Care Bears'
choosing, as we tried desperately to see something other than them;
apologies to those behind us who also had to dance the funky chicken in this
manner. I suppose the phrase 'get a room' would be redundant in this case
as the Borderline is not much bigger than a large bedroom, but the wuvverly
cuddly ducklings in matching shirts and attached to each other at various
points really should have volunteered to move to the back row of a cinema,
since they clearly were not bothered about watching Boo, just each other,
and they could have done that elsewhere. NOT THAT I'M BITTER. Just rude, I
know. If you very sweet and adorable people are reading this now, apologies
for this rant, but I'm afraid that several people behind you really disliked you
last night and, frankly, it was all we could do not to vomit. No doubt we
all are, of course, deeply ashamed for our evil thoughts today (and that is
not the Royal We, I am just presumptuously speaking for others), as you
clearly are just so sweet and cuddly, you adorable Care Bears, you.
Awwwwwwww. Congratulations on the happiness you have found; you deserve it
since you have such excellent taste in music.
It occurred to me that it would have been really fitting if Boo sang
Footsteps Fall next (although it would have applied at any time during the
night), and funnily enough, he did, after introducing it concisely by saying
'this is about hearing people shag through a wall--thank you.' His
performance of the wonderful song was powerful, truly grand, and oddly set
to psychedelic swirls of coloured lights on the walls behind the stage,
which were persistent throughout the whole concert (well, he does sound a
lot like the Psychedelic Furs, doesn't he?). Boo's boisterous delivery
included many Eddi-type fill-ins à la 'Hey, la-la' at the end, but they
seemed more fitting without the swimming hand movements characteristic of
our lovely Ms Reader.
Before he had begun the masterful performance of that song, Boo told a story
that ended with the moral 'Never mumble in a cake shop.' I should just
leave you all with that thought for the day, but I suppose for the curious
of you who have not yet heard the story, I should explain that Boo owned up
to being a terrible mumbler (and yes he is!) and told us of an errand to buy
a birthday cake for his young daughter Holly. When he got home, he opened
the box to find that the icing on the cake said 'Happy birthday, Colin!'
Hearing this story, my thoughts turned to Boo's fabulous new Extras EP that a
friend kindly bought me at Friday's Claygate gig (and you really MUST buy this
if you haven't yet!!). The friend got Boo to sign it, which is always a nice
touch. Trouble is, Boo misheard who it was for and signed it for a
completely different name than mine, and a male one, at that. Still, could come in handy
should I ever decide to have a sex change; that could help me decide which
name to choose. So the moral of my story: Never mumble in a post-gig shop.
Boo, you see, kept referring to his and Colin's selling of their CDs by the
side of the stage afterwards as 'pretending to be a shop.' And a most
successful shop they were, too. Boo rightfully plugged his EP several times
during the show but also kindly plugged Colin's latest CD (which is
masterful--do buy it! It also has Eddi singing a fun Fleetwood Mac cover on
it)-which he highly recommended particularly the great track that he (Boo)
sang on.
He then performed Please Don't Ask Me To Dance--fortunately not introduced
as an Eddi song--so superbly, so brilliantly clearly despite the slightly
harsh sound system, that the room loosely packed with people appeared to
just melt away into satisfied sighs (I would have said 'a sea of satisfied
sighs' but that would have been as nauseating as the Care Bears, although
true). Even Boo appeared to be relaxing now and full of unusual but
deserved confidence (and I'm sure that wasn't owing to any liquid
assistance, surely not!)
Boo then called out, 'Rosalie Deighton, are you here?' I might be spelling
her name wrong; but she opened for Boo at the Jazz Café a couple of years
ago (or so), and he produced her album that has taken an age to get out but
apparently is on its way. She sings wonderful harmony on the first song on
Boo's fine Extras EP, Sweet on the Vine. She wasn't there, though, so
someone else answered in her place. Boo jokingly said, 'well, you'll do,'
and suggested (insincerely) that someone join him on stage to sing Rosalie's
part. A look of longing filled the eyes of most of the members of the
audience, but they remained in their places, their big chance missed, and
the second mike standing at singer-height on the stage remained unused. The
song is gorgeous, although it really is amazing with the harmonies that we
missed last night, and contains a lot of glorious guitar trickling along to
a beautiful tune with Boo's now exceptional vocals. When he finished, Boo
plugged the EP again but, somewhat disappointingly, said that he'd just
decided not to do another song from the EP. Still, it was refreshing to see
someone just play for pleasure rather than being focussed on promoting a CD,
and since we loved every single thing he played, we really did not mind;
most of us can go home and play the other three fabulous songs later (and if
you're not one who can, do buy the EP! Honestly, you will be sorry to miss
these new songs).
With a new approach to the next song, Boo decided that, rather than telling
the usual story about k d Lang falling off a stool and leaving the stage
right before he was meant to join her to perform with her the song he'd
written, Last Cigarette, he would just on this occasion say 'this is the k d
Lang falling-off-the-stool song.' Everyone laughed; there didn't seem to be
a baffled look in the house. He had a false start first, then said
'tragically, I've forgotten how to tune the guitar,' and then explained that
he felt nervous about playing the song without telling the story first.
Bless him. He then asked if his friend George was in the audience, and
found that, like Eddi and Rosalie, George had not come either, so he joked
that the next song would be from his new album called 'Billy No-Mates' (he
meant friends, didn't he?) The song was stunning, as always, although he
was on such amazing form that night that the whole gig was one of the best
performances I have seen--though apparently could not top Friday's Claygate
concert, so we must be thankful that that has been preserved for posterity
and is available to lucky us. Apart from all the glorious sound, Boo's
left ear and right shoulder looked quite good as well, to one shaking one's
head from side to side in an attempt to see him during cuddles while looking
like someone dancing to Devo.
Next, Boo treated us to the amazing Paper Planes, a favourite of everyone
who has seen him perform it for the past couple of years (mind you, I have
no sense of time, so maybe it's only five minutes old). He said that we
couldn't buy it in his and Colin's shop later, but it would be on the
forthcoming album that he would finish after this tour. Fingers crossed,
because it truly is an amazing composition. It starts with lovely bright
trickly guitar like Murder in the Dark and becomes pure beauty itself, with
wonderful lyrics. I haven't heard this one for a while and like it so much
more now. This must be the The Birds Are Leaving of the new album, although
based on Extras, there clearly will be tough competition for that winning
role.
The next song, Boo said, he wrote with his friend Clive Gregson (also
noticeably absent....although when a cheer came up for Clive, Boo reassured
himself with 'well, at least Clive is here!') for his second solo album
Baptist Hospital, which he said would be re-released later this year with
extra tracks. He played the absolutely gorgeous World's End absolutely
gorgeously. Even without the female harmonies, it was glorious; Boo's
vocals really were on top form as they infiltrated the club and echoed
within every individual's insides. I could actually feel the tones in my
heart, and it wasn't because the volume was too loud.
Since I am clearly not beyond digression, I should digress slightly here to
note that, being American and a soppy one at that, I thought last week that
I would put together an MD compilation (I listen to one on the train every
day) full of comforting and somewhat relevant songs in light of the hideous
and surreal recent tragic events. I haven't put it together yet (and might
wait 'til too late) as I keep remembering additional songs that would be
appropriate and I don't want to leave anything out, but I have mapped out my
plans, and World's End is the second song on there. You might think that
odd. Also, I shall probably put Boo's Different God, with the chorus 'But
that's a different God than my God,' which seems appropriate, as performed
by Brian Kennedy (who has a new single out in Ireland now, with a new album
of Boo-scribed songs due soon.) I doubt if anyone is still reading this
lengthy verbosity at this stage, but if you are, I'd be interested in
hearing your suggestions as to what other Boo or Bible songs might be
appropriate.
Returning to the brilliant concert and happiness again, I had heard people
say incredulously that Boo had actually refrained from playing 59 Yards at
Friday's momentous gig. So when someone actually requested it last
night--and it was the only request called out all evening--some of us were
surprised and almost disappointed, as it was wonderful hearing some of his
brilliant new material which, after all, we can only hear at gigs (unless
you're the Roving Recorder Patrick, and thank goodness for him).
Fortunately I guess, Boo ignored the request at that stage and said that
instead, he was going to sing his favourite on Eddi's last album. This
song, Soul, as he called it, though Eddi called it 'I Felt A Soul Move
Through Me' on her album, was my favourite during the last tour when I saw
Boo play a few times--I seem to recall loving it at Bromley. Everyone was
raving about Roundabout, which
didn't win me over somehow, and I just really adored Soul. Hence I was
thrilled to be able to hear it again when I got Eddi's album, but that
version just wasn't enough for me somehow, it just doesn't have the fine
timbre of Boo's voice and his stronger interpretation. Hearing him play it
again last night was amazing, truly rewarding, and I can only hope that
because he is fond of the song, he will put that on his next album. I
really need to hear it more often than I can, and performed in Boo's style!
Again, Boo added a lot of ad-libbing, booming out 'yay-hey-hey-haaaaaay' at
a volume that hurt my ears in the most pleasant way, then abruptly dropping
the volume for the tender chorus. Masterful.
Boo then introduced another song from Eddi's last album that he said he
thought he might do himself. He pointed out that people always joined in
when Eddi sang it, so he would see what might happen. He played a clear and
bright version of Lucky Penny, wonderful to hear, and since they had been
'subtly' prompted, the audience weakly added the 'la-las' of the refrain.
Boo, at the end, pronounced the sing-a-long as 'reasonably impressive.' If
we had been a football game audience, he said, it would have counted only as
a Mexican Nod.
After teaching us twice about our responsibilities in the workings of
encores, he superficially said 'well, goodnight' before his 'last' song and
then offered an aside of 'you know what to do, and stuff.' He hinted that
he rather hoped to see some crowd-surfing, but clearly he hadn't seen the
notice posted at the door by the box office saying that crowd-surfing (and
probably sideways head-banging, but not cuddling) was forbidden, which was
of course the only thing preventing us from doing that and then rushing the
stage. He treated us to Murder in the Dark, which I don't remember hearing
live other than at Borders just up the road from where we were, but my friend
who was at both performances
implied that I was typically forgetting everything and getting mixed up. I
do love the song, though, and it was terrific to hear it live, particularly
as Boo performed it so passionately (based on what I could not see through
Cuddles and FluffyBunny's clinch but managed to hear through their
persistent gooey giggling). Boo's voice was booming tremendously, and he
even added the 'Love Hurts' bit at the end, a slightly different tune from
that performed by Loudon Wainwright's daughter on the album. It was
absolutely sublime.
Boo then left the stage at 10.35, clearly finished for the evening, but the
enthusiastic (and well-taught) cheers brought him back after a long, long
wait, so at 10.36 no-hair Colin Reid joined no-mates Boo on the stage. They
had an extremely quiet and civil chat as to what they might play, changed
their mind a few times, and then came to a decision, and then Boo announced
that what we had just witnessed was a terrible row between them. He said
that, since someone had shouted for it earlier, they would play 59 Yards
and, perhaps sensing a hesitancy since people sometimes kid that he won't
leave home without that security song, he added 'but in C-Sharp.' It wasn't
quite, but I have to say that it was a pounding, rowdy, amazing,
foot-stomping, HUGE rendition, like nothing I have ever heard before. I
could hear it done that way, well, 59 times, or 59 times that. It was
breathtaking. People were dancing for the first time, Colin was laughing
with delight, everyone was engrossed and even the CuddlyWuvverlies were
rubbing each other's backs to the rhythm of the beat. The connection cable
fell out of--I think--Boo's mike (it might have been his guitar but I'm sure
that I heard that playing still, though Colin's guitar playing can easily
deceptively sound like five guitars, so I'm not sure, thanks to my CareBear
vision), and as he bent to pick it up off the floor and re-attach it, the
audience helped him out by filling in for him and singing that verse of the
song. Having fixed it, Boo growled out some words ferociously before
jumping to a higher Michael Jackson voice (but without the freakishness) on
occasion. It really was magnificence itself. Even the bar staff behind me,
who did not seem to know who Boo was but sure do now, said 'Wow. That was
quite good!' which I understand is quite significantly enthusiastic in bar
staff speak.
After discussing calmly what they should play next, and it would be a trying
task to find something to top that, Boo announced the result of their second
'row' and, after giving more instructions to the unseen sound person about
'feedback on the bottom there' and then hurriedly explaining to us 'that's
my guitar, by the way!', he played the only song that could top that last
number: The Birds Are Leaving. With Colin adding his incredible talent on
guitar, whilst holding his pick in his mouth, which always worries me in
case he chokes on it (and I'm not even a mother), this was again a
record-breaking performance, astoundingly gorgeous. Deceptively simple
with uncannily clear vocals ringing out, it had the audience captivated.
Finally, after reminding us that he would be playing with Jane Siberry at
the South Bank Centre on Friday and he and Colin would be joining Eddi at
the Shepherd's Bush Empire at the end of her tour, Boo came to his last
song. Of course, we'd had 59 Yards so it was now time for 16 Miles. A
great song, appropriate to hear the line ringing out about not wanting to go
home from a London that was so beautiful at night, and I could only fault it
by the fact that it got in the way of the CareBears' intense conversation,
which I thought was really thoughtless and rude of Boo and Colin. They
should have been more considerate and stopped playing and waited until our
adorable friends were done talking. Nevertheless, Boo tried to conduct the
audience so that they could fill in for Rob or Clive (Colin does not sing),
adding the brilliant 'na na na hey heys'--wait, that's Bananarama, but you
know what I mean--but we frankly were a serious disappointment. We tried but
when he tried to get us to sing one part while he sang another, we all
decided to join him on his part instead. So I don't think we passed the
audition and I doubt we'll be hired as Rob or Clive's replacements, so no
doubt they'll sleep easy tonight.
After an astonishing performance of 13 songs that variously had people
swooning, dancing and actually in tears, Boo finished it moments before
11pm, when he opened the BooCo shop (catchy, huh? Like ASDA....), which
appeared to do marvellous business and had a lengthy queue of converts. It
was sort of odd to see these two incredible performers now acting like
check-out girls, counting out change for people and handing them products,
but it was all part of the awesome experience.
Well, after all that rambling, even I'm bored with my account (though not
with the memory of the evening). So congratulations to anyone who has
actually read through all that to reach here, and have a Merry Christmas.
Copyright © 2001 by TC.
All rights reserved.
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