Hammill's Bath Concert - June 5th, 1999
reviewed by Charlotte Hendry

A Night full of Clay, Ice and Water

... one of many lyrical cock-ups in "Nightman", but the most apposite by a long way. Let me apologise in advance for making lots of reference to non-musical aspects of the Bath show; they were a kind of integral part of the experience as far as I'm concerned!        This surreal weekend really started on Friday evening. I'd arrived at my Bath B&B and was unpacking, with the TV on quietly for company. What was on: a local (HTV) guide to events in the week ahead. I thought they might mention the Fringe - although this seemed highly unlikely by the timing of this programme (teatime - aimed at families looking for ways to entertain themselves along the lines of staring at a bunch of bored looking sheep at the Bath and West Show), so I stayed tuned. Then to my utter amazement I heard: "Coming up after the break, we'll be talking to Bath-based Peter Hammill..." I just couldn't believe my ears! PH on British tv (albeit West Country only).        They opened with an instrumental (acoustic guitar) version of "My Experience" (I think), there in the TV studio - about a minute's worth. The interview (4 minutes-ish )contained some somewhat dodgy questions, eg "So Peter, how does it feel to be better known abroad than in your own country?" ( His reply contained the words "I have a small but sometimes manic audience all over the place") and "Now, you started out in Progressive rock, what do you think of that now?" (Reply being something like "Well, I actually started in Underground.." and he went on to reiterate his desire for there to be more diversity in music in general.)        We were told to stay tuned because there would be more from PH later, and indeed about 5 minutes later he played a terrific version of "Amnesiac", of which only the final repetition of the chorus was cut short (I pictured somebody rushing around at the broadcasting station saying "GOOD GOD!! How did this get through? We're meant to be recommending days out by the canal for quiet thirty-somethings and their snotty-nosed little brats, not exposing them to anything this...esoteric!"). Because it had been an instrumental version of "My Experience" earlier, I thought for a moment that they had banned PH from actually *singing*. But no, there was that voice, in full throttle for the residents of Wessex to go "What the hell is *that*?!" to. The funniest thing was the sight of the blond bimbo-looking (no offence if you're the fan who swung this!!) co-presenter trying to tap her fingers to the "rhythm"!!        An inspection of the Marquee the following morning (while Marga Taris and I also "did" the Royal Crescent which was directly opposite) revealed a circus big-top, a fair amount of mud around the entrances and some strange looking people camping in tents around the outside - performers from the Bedlam Cabaret show the night before. Well, the mud had time to get worse during the day - the heavens opened with increasing regularity and by lunchtime it was pretty persistent rain.        Apologies to anyone else who was expecting a prompt 2.00 appearance by ourselves and the scorpions. Lack of sleep the night before tempted us back to the B&B and the quick lie-down proved deadly. We did get down to The Bell at about 4.00, and finally met some other people heading for the gig (Hi Mark, Chris, Sean, Jochen and anyone whose name I've since forgotten...oh, and Fred Tomsett, with newly trimmed hair and beard, was there too).        Well, I'll cut to the gig! The mud had quadrupled in quantity by 6.30, and the rain was coming down in earnest. This was to provide the first, and main , source of problems for the night. The Fringe's main event in the day was supposed to have consisted of various busking acts doing their thing in the park. Weather being as it was, they moved it to the Marquee. The upshot of this was that PH &co couldn't soundcheck until late on - very late on. I recognised "I Will Find You" from Fireships: what Paul Ridout uses to check the balance at the very beginning of the testing - and the doors were supposed to be opened. "Doors"? I mean, piece of canvas. The bar turned out to be a tiny space in the entrance, which could comfortably accommodate 10 people. There were about 20 in there, and a queue was starting to form outside... I peered round the canvas to see Peter wandering around with a bottle and a fag while Stuart fiddled with his fiddle and aimed Geordie-tinted ejaculations in Paul Ridout's general direction. At this point an organiser told us that they were soundchecking so couldn't let us in; could we go to the pub "or something" for a while. But no-one went away and moments later a strained-looking Ridout pulled back the canvas and said "Let them in for God's sake - don't let them get wet!"        Thus it was that about 50 people watched the soundcheck. The guys did their best to try to carry on as normal, but you could see that the presence of this crowd was adding to the general strain of the situation. Peter carried in a large cooler box, one disadvantage of the Fringe being that one has to "bring one's own rider". The contents, which Tony Emmerson (who'd interviewed PH that afternoon and even cadged a lift with to the park - journalists!) later told me contained 2 bottles wine, 1 bottle Tequila, 1 six-pack Heineken and some other kind of spirit. Tony assumed this would all be for *after* the show. Yes, it was his first, and Geoff Leone's who had been a fan since '75. Then PH brought in a pair of wellies. Hey, who needs Glastonbury, I found myself thinking. Funniest sight of the soundcheck was undoubtedly when Stuart was desperately trying to get the monitor sound right while Peter presented his backside to the audience whilst attempting to uncork a stubborn bottle of chardonnay between his feet. Then the PA blew up, and all power went out. Could be a short night, I remember thinking.        OK - some musical stuff! the setlist:
1. Siren Song 2. Just Good Friends 3. Nothing Comes 4. Unrehearsed 5. Comfortable 6. Nightman 7. Shingle Song 8. Amnesiac		9. Faculty X 10. Stranger Still 11. A Way Out 12. Bubble 13. The Gift Of Fire 14. Last Frame 15. Primo on the Parapet 16. Encore: Patient
The first three were adequate but rather uninspired, I thought. It also seemed that PH's voice wasn't what it can be; he actually sounded a bit phlegmy at times. Unrehearsed sounded just that, to be frank. Then it came together for a brilliant final section and ending. At times I found myself thinking "What a god-awful racket this is" and at others '"Christ, this is brilliant!"...sometimes seconds apart, occasionally simultaneously. Say what you like about the rest of that gig: it certainly wasn't boring. There was an enormous wooden stage-flat behind them on which had been painted a total eclipse. At times I felt I was soaring through the fire of that dramatically explosive corona, such was the searing majesty of the music. At other times it was a case of "How's he going to dig his way out of *this* hole?"...        ...the latter largely lyrical in origin. Yes, I know PH is constantly forgetting words, but tonight I don't think "Nightman" had a single correct line! The worst moment here came when he seemed to get stuck in a rut with the "...chasing"/"...facing"/"...racing" rhyme and couldn't get into the climactic "...ation" rhyming section. This really threw Stuart, in particular. And, in keeping with the situation outside, there was "clay" all over the place! Somehow they got through (the song, not the mud), but I was on the edge of my seat!        "Amnesiac" was an improvement; I noted the departure of a group of smartly dressed elderly ladies after this (God knows why they went in the first place - perhaps they were residents of the Royal Crescent attempting to drum up an "If you can't beat them, join them" attitude to these noisy performances near their Grade 1 Listed homes) and a few others, but it was a healthy crowd of 250 or so (the Marquee's capacity was supposed to be 300) who remained. "Faculty X" was pretty good, and "Stranger Still" featured the best ending I've seen - I didn't count the "A Stranger, a worldly man"s but there were a lot; ranging between the soft and ethereal and the familiar but extra full-blooded scream. My only visual memory at this point is of the inside of Peter's mouth. Nice!! Geoff's main impression of the gig was of the range of PH's live voice, so I guess he'd scared the phlegm away by this point.        "A Way Out" was good (he remembered most of the words, apart from that classic "out of breath" verse that he's got wrong so unerringly it shouldn't count as the official version now I suppose), but "Bubble" and the main part of "The Gift of Fire" were a mess. The opening of the latter was beautiful, however, and really did sound like it could have turned into The "Light Continent". Go on, Peter, give that one a go! He had muttered to Stuart at the beginning - "OK, it's in D. Start when you like!"        "Last Frame" was super; probably the best track of the night. There was much wild flailing around from Stuart, who trashed half of his bow hairs, and some terrific noise from PH whose guitar could probably be picked up by seismic devices 30 miles away. It can sound great, that thing. "Primo" (announced as the last track) was good, although not quite as. They concentrated so hard on staying together for that wildly modulating section that they almost seemed to forget to crank the song up a gear when they finally hit the main riff. But it was considerably better towards the end, and it finished in terrific waves of sound.        Surprisingly, most of the lyrics seemed in place too, but any wild ideas anyone might have had about PH being sober after all were rather dispelled at the ending. I got my camera at the ready, knowing that this could be a chance to use the flash un-disturbingly: thus it was that I watched the following through the viewfinder. Peter replaced Meurglys III.        Well, nothing else much could go wrong, surely! The choice for the encore was "Patient"... And then... yep, the A string is mortally wounded. It's obviously in the way, but PH doesn't get the chance to actually remove the thing. It's also a pretty important string for the quiet ending of the song... so PH is reduced to strumming the odd half chord while Stuart tries his best to create that spooky atmosphere.        And that was it. No second encore; we were informed by a fringey person that The City Of Bath has decreed that all Marquee events much finish at 10, and it was already a bit after. Oh well...        Marga was hoping that PH might reappear; she had come over from The Netherlands, had never met him, and wanted her CD covers signed. I didn't think he'd want to return after this show, however. We spoke to Stuart who revealed that they both had thought the night a disappointment ("Hmm, that was an interesting evening" was the actual phrase he used). Peter did appear and seemed to be in one piece in mind and body. If he was in a foul temper it didn't show; he willingly signed the CD covers and some of my anthologies.        He was disappointed; perhaps understandably so considering this was his first UK gig in over 2 years. But as Stuart said, sometimes what seems crap to the musicians on stage can sound fabulous to the audience, and vice versa. Tonight they'd had a real combination of sounds, quality, accidents, mud and emotions. The entertainment did at times seem singularly appropriate to the Big Top venue, but that's just Hammill taking things to the limit (and sometimes over it. I hope Mrs H was driving home!) All in all, a *good* gig... but it wouldn't go towards encouraging him to do that British tour. Unless the sun could be guaranteed to shine, perhaps. Charlotte Hendry