Johnny Marr at the Bristol O2 Academy: Live Review

 

 

 

While it’s true Johnny Marr’s older material gets a better reaction, there is much to appreciate in his solo canon.

Well, this was quite the double-header.

An artist of Johnny Marr’s stature would be enticing enough, but for his tenth anniversary tour (commemorating last year’s Best Of, Spirit Power) the legendary Mancunian has pulled out all the stops.

Not least with his choice of support act: Gaz Coombes could probably fill Bristol’s biggest venue (capacity 1600) on his own but, freed from such pressures and obligations for his last album, the Supergrass frontman takes the opportunity to present his own, esteemed solo career.

Through necessity, Coombes’ six-piece band squash together at the front of the stage for his ten-song set but it matters naught, with a relaxed energy and comfortability reflected by the singer, a man clearly comfortable with his place in the world.

From the clanging, driving one-off single Salamander (featuring some raucous saxophone), there’s a noticeable ease and positive vibe emanating from the stage.

Recent album Turn The Car Around features most prominently, with a spectral Don’t Say It’s Over and a thumping, cacophonous Love Live The Strange the highlights, closely followed by a filthy rendition of Feel Loop (Lizard Dream).

When not brandishing a smart white acoustic guitar, Coombes keeps the rip-roaring solos on the former and the strangled outro of the latter for himself (superbly).

A propulsive Deep Pockets, a wonderfully lilting The Girl Who Fell To Earth and a majestic 20/20 make out the rest of a succinct but splendid set, as Coombes proves he’s settling into middle-age nicely.

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It’s hard to recall the days when Johnny Marr wasn’t a frontman, so easily has he taken to the role. Bounding on stage, playfully making binoculars with his fingers to the crowd in the balcony, Marr knows how to work an audience, years of standing to the side of a parade of frontmen not wasted.

But first and foremost, he’s an iconic guitarist who makes it look easy. Dexterous as ever, you can hear he’s doing a lot on opener Sensory Street or a boisterous Generate! Generate!, but it’s hard to make out what it is by looking at his fingers.

Even though this Spirit Power tour is ostensibly to celebrate a decade as a solo artist, unencumbered by nerves or pressure, Johnny Marr gleefully dips into his pre-2013 catalogue.

And, while it’s true the older material gets a better reaction, there is much to appreciate in his solo canon. Take the skull-thudding, Depeche Mode-indebted Spirit Power and Soul (during which he slings his guitar to his back, fully embracing being a singer), or the wistful melancholic classic New Town Velocity, which should be regarded as a career high (admittedly, one of many).

The beguiling, intense Walk Into The Sea is perhaps superfluous but clearly a personal favourite of Johnny Marr’s, and a chunky rendition of the maddeningly catch Easy Money stands tall amid the classics.

Best of all is a sweeping version of recent single Somewhere (first explored at the Radio 2 Piano Room sessions earlier this year), quite beautiful in its dreamy optimism, matched only by the truly moving Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.

So, with nothing to prove, the gig is divided equally between his solo work and career highlights. The Bristol O2 Academy temporarily turns into a disco in Manchester circa 1992 during Get The Message and – while the riff of This Charming Man remains one of life’s great mysteries – it never fails to ignite a crowd.

Johnny Marr noodles and takes a swampy How Soon Is Now? to a different stratosphere, while Gaz Coombes reappears for a bouncing rendition of Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before, his pleading gravelly tones working well in conjunction with Marr’s own, Morrissey-alike delivery.

For the encore, Marr and his band (a tight unit of just four) deliver a swaggering cover of The Passenger, an urgent You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby (a relative new addition to his set), during which he gleefully bounces on the spot and a glorious, crowd-pleasingly elongated There Is A Light That Never Goes Out. As long as Johnny Marr keeps up this standard (and forty years at the top suggests he can), there never will be.

A reminder of how this icon earned his status, and also that he never takes it for granted.