Paul Weller Royal Festival Hall review: A night of genuine musical genius
At sixty, Paul Weller has finally come of age. GQ Editor, Dylan Jones, on why Weller’s Royal Festival Hall gig was a monumental show for the performer.
The thought of going to see one of your favourite artists and being told that not only are they not going to play any of their greatest hits, but instead are going to methodically work their way through their new album, well, it might cause you to think again, surely. Seriously, it’s a Friday night. You could be at home, working your way through the second series of Ozark. You saw your so-called favourite artist a few years ago, and it was great, and they’re bound to bounce around again in a few months, aren’t they, in the way that artists with a genuine following tend to dust off their dancing shoes on a regular basis these days?
I remember going to see the Eagles a few years ago at the O2, when they were touring their comeback album, and being told the precise time to turn up in order not to have to sit through their new album, so I could pitch up and tap my toes to their greatest hits. This information was so inexact – precisely inexact, in fact – that I had to endure an hour and a half of an album I never had any intention of listening to in the first place, and one that I’ve certainly never played since. In all honesty the whole experience put me off the Eagles for life.
Not that any of the people gathered at the Festival Hall on London’s Southbank last night would have cared less. Paul Weller fans tend to be rather proscriptive, and wouldn’t admit to liking the Eagles if their lives depended on it. They’re purists, most of them, much like the man himself, true believers, carriers of the Modernist flame, and the kind of obsessives who laugh at you if you’re wearing the wrong shoes. Which, in all honesty, doesn’t make them bad people. Last night I saw people who, like myself, have been going to Paul Weller gigs since 1977, those whose belief in the Modfather has over the years slowly developed into a genuine familial fondness. It’s like we’re all turning up to an uncle’s significant birthday; every few years he decides to throw a big bash, and we rush to be there, not just because we know we’re going to enjoy it, because also we wouldn’t want to miss it. We don’t want to be left out. After all, it’s not often you’re given carte blanche to laugh at other people’s shoes.
A night of genuine warmth, a night of genuine musical genius
I remember going to see Weller when he played the Albert Hall in 1992, and thinking how incongruous it was that someone I’d first seen play the 100 Club in at the height of punk was now firmly embedded in the establishment (I think we were both wearing pinstripe suits, and I kept think of that Virginia Slims ad with the tag line: you’ve come a long way, baby). It was a terrific concert, but then I’ve never known him to give a bad performance, not in forty years. Sure, I’ve seen him grumpy, deliberately uncommunicative, and downright surly. But he’s never given less than his all.
Last night’s venue was far more fitting than the Albert Hall, as the modernist splendour of the Festival Hall was the perfect setting for Weller’s clipped, orchestral experiment. We were here to hear him play a full acoustic set that largely contained his recent and very brilliant album, True Meanings. We knew we weren’t going to get the greatest hits, although considering that Weller’s greatest hits comprise some 150 songs, that was probably just as well (we would have been here all night, making it impossible to watch any episodes of Ozark).
Which is a very long-winded way of saying that each and every one of us at the Festival Hall knew what we were letting ourselves in for, and judging by the rapturous applause after the encores, I don’t think any of us left the theatre in any way disappointed.
Because it was, I have to say, superb, a night of genuine warmth, a night of genuine musical genius, watching a performer at the very top of his game. At the age of sixty – which he was publicly reminded of on stage last night, much to his mock irritation – Paul Weller has final come of age. I know, a cliché, right? And the kind of things critics have been saying about him since he was 19, but last night it suddenly felt like it had some veracity. Yes, there was a smattering of old songs – the Jam’s “Private Hell” and “Tales from the Riverbank”, the Style Council’s “Have you Ever Had it Blue” as well as the obligatory “Wild Wood” and “You do Something to Me” – but the bulk of the evening was devoted to the True Meanings album, a record that grew in stature last night as Weller’s songs were robustly supported by his five-piece band, plus an eleven-strong string section led by the intoxicating conductor Hannah Peel, and a four-piece horn section as well as a harpist, a flautist and – fleetingly – three Indian musicians playing sitars and violin, along with the evening’s opening act, British singer Lucy Rose. Often there were twenty-six musicians onstage, and yet this was the most acoustic of evenings, allowing Weller’s songs to breathe and – at the risk of descending into hyperbole – sound even better than they do on the album.
He played just two nights at the Festival hall this week, not just because it is fearsomely expensive to put on a show like this, but also because it’s completely proscriptive; when you’re playing with an orchestra it’s somewhat difficult to suddenly veer off piste and decide to play orchestral versions of “Butterfly Collector” or “It’s a Very Deep Sea”.
If you weren’t there, there will be a DVD of these performances released early in the new year, and if you want to stay at home, wallow in some extraordinary music, laugh at other people’s shoes, and still have time to watch an episode of Ozark, I recommend you get it.
Oh, and one further thing. Weller smiled, repeatedly, all night.
I know. Weird, right?
Being sixty obviously suits him.
Paul Weller setlist:
„One Bright Star“
„Glide“
„The Soul Searchers“
„Boy About Town“
„Have You Ever Had It Blue“
„What Would He Say?“
„Wild Wood“
„Country“
„Aspects“
„Strange Museum“
„Amongst Butterflies“
„Old Castles“
„Gravity“
„Where’er Ye Go“
„A Man of Great Promise“
„Mayfly“
„Private Hell“
„Tales From the Riverbank“
„Movin‘ On“
„Long Long Road“
„Hopper“
„White Horses“
Encore:
„Books“ (with Lucy Rose)
„You Do Something to Me“
„May Love Travel With You“
https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/article/pa…cal-genius
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