Dance my tears away

The waiter in Pizza Express said to me, "are you going to the concert"

I replied, "yes"

Then he paused and said, "which one: Marc Almond or Courtney Love?"

It seemed two divas were performing in Shepherd's Bush last night.

As it happens, it was my great privilege to attend the 50th birthday concert of the first artist he mentioned, Marc Almond. In retrospect, attending at all feels a little bit cheeky, as I have been but the most incidental of fans of his over the years. It was only because I liked his most recent album, Stardom Road, that I thought it would be fun to go along and hear those songs sung live. I hadn't appreciated when I bought the tickets the subtlety of the date in question, that emerged later. But am I glad I went.

It's clear to me now that Marc Almond is one of those artists, perhaps (one imagines) like Eartha Kitt or Liza Minnelli, whose world is one of smeared greasepaint and descending curtains: a vivid, over-the-top camp that is taken almost to the level of artform itself in the wild extravagance of performance. But while camp can be phoney, last night's concert was never anything less than totally heartfelt. In fact, at times, it was incredibly emotional. As the crowd sang him Happy Birthday, Marc was overcome to the extent that he had to pause before he could continue. It felt like something beyond a mere concert at these moments, more of a celebration of his life, and survival.

The crowd was a Curate's egg. I was imagining a very gay leathery (clad) crowd, probably of Marc's vintage, and they were certainly there, but there were many more women than I had anticipated. Perhaps from the era where the term Fag Hag was invented? I was standing on the ground floor of the Empire, which after my Pet Shop Boys experience in May is my new favourite way to see a concert. It's one thing if you don't want to dance at a concert, but sitting down, there is always the worry of disturbing the person in the seat behind. Being part of the throng, one is uninhibited. Standing among the fans around me last night, the passion and enjoyment factor last night of those around me was huge. It was a special feeling.

Having listened to the new album a great deal, I felt those songs really stood up in relation to the likes of Jacky, What makes a man a man, The days of Pearly Spencer or, of course, Tainted love and the brilliance of Say hello, wave goodbye. The latter in theory closed the show, but unexpectedly he finished with The curtain falls. Equally, he began with I have lived, and this bookending (the same as on the album) worked incredibly well. The one new song on Stardom Road, Redeem me, was also wonderful, though didn't get the reception that I thought it deserved. Had these die-hard fans not bought the new record? Who knows, but if the inverse was true and I didn't know some of the older songs, it didn't spoil my enjoyment of them.

In fact, all the music was never anything less than anthemic. No duds, no filler. Even when he sang Russian folksongs, it was totally engaging. That said, there were highights, and for me, one pinnacle. That was a song from his 'Tenement Symphony' album called My hand over my heart. Flush with a zillion Trevor Horn flourishes and drowned in strings, this brilliant song had everyone in the entire building chanting along. Hairs stood up at the back of my neck as he soared into the final verse. It was utterly transcending. I'm almost lost for superlatives. It was hands-down the best live musical moment for me of the year, and if you take a look at the Concert Marathon sidebar on this page, I haven't exactly been slouching on that front over the last six months. This moment, combined with the occasion, stole them all.

Marc Almond Mr Sad/What makes a man a man (Live at the Manchester Ritz)

Comments

[Phil]

I'm still beamimg from, as you quite rightly say, THE performance of the year. I was on level 2 but right at the front which felt a lot more intimate and involved than it suggests!

He has an incredible female following, Tricky. I remember going to his first solo concert and all those females of today were the teenage goths of yesteryear who followed Marc because he was androgynous but totally emotional and embracing. I could still detect a backcombed henna job or two.

PS were you wearing a stripy rugby polo shirt?

[xolondon]

My hand over my heart? That'
s my fave Marc song! Ooh I am so jealous! We don't get many Marc Almond shows here, except, typically, in Manhattan.

I don't think the female audience would be "fag hags" (watch out! That's considered a diminution in some circles!). Gay as he is, he transcends it.

Courtney Love herself has talked about how much she loves Marc. Although she IS sort of a man, isn't she?

[TRICKY]

Phil: Oh, I love a woman with a back-combed henna job. Some of my best friends... etc etc.
No, wasn't in rugby shirt. Sort of gold-coloured Penguin hoodie number to reveal Penguin polo shirt (I'm having a moment, etc etc.)

XO: I don't mean to diminish ladies who love gays (where would I be?!, etc etc) but was using the term in a slightly 1970s, Mona Ramsey sort of a way. I agree though that MA transcends the cliché of gay performer (perhaps Phil agrees here) and he barely referenced it except in 'What makes a man a man' or 'Stardom Road', neither of which he wrote, of course. It was pleasingly incidental. However, the melo-der-ama was, in a man, not exactly anything but the hallmark of a monstrous old homo.

[TRICKY]

... and another note... I would dearly love to have included 'My hand over my heart' as today's video, but there is nada on YouTube :-(

[Phil]

I've uploaded some of the earlier songs on my review! Having just written my appraisal, I've got to say again, it was AMAZING wasn't it!

[TRICKY]

Thanks for those tracks. I will grab them with a view to getting the wider albums around them in time.

Yes, truly amazing. And John Aizlewood agrees...
http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/music/gig-23364767-details/Marc+Almond/gigReview.do?reviewId=23403699