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Seasick Steve on stage at Hard Rock Calling |
Steve was sickeningly good
REVIEW: HARD ROCK CALLING
Hyde Park
GLASTONBURY for wimps, group parent-offspring bonding on a massive scale. However you describe it, Hard Rock Calling had its triumphs this weekend.
Three days in the mostly sunny climes of Hyde Park, featuring Glasto headliners Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen plus The Killers, Fleet Foxes, Seasick Steve, The Magic Numbers, Passion Pit, The Pretenders and more.
None of the grit or the mud of the more traditional festivals, this was a civilised way for 20-30-somethings to bond with their parents over shared musical memories – but there were still some moments of magic.
Seasick Steve on Saturday afternoon hypnotised the hoardes, transforming the huge corporate stage into his own veranda somewhere near the Mississippi. It was hard to imagine how one ageing beardy man in stonewash dungarees, some seriously battered “geetars” and his one-string diddly bo, could match up to the vast expanse of the park. But he did. Onlookers heading for a burger were paralysed to the spot, transfixed by his tales of parental abuse told against a deep, raw blues backdrop. His only refreshment was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s taken from his back pocket. His glee at being here and gratitude to the crowd, “thanks for getting me a job” only added to the good feeling. He was a tough act to follow.
Ben Harper, although technically good, managed to sound noisy, dirty and a little flat. Fleet Foxes’ gentle rounds and killer harmonies evoked the strange combination of medieval monasteries and choral 70s theme tunes – in a good way. The oldies in the crowd, impatient for Neil Young, looked pleased with their new musical discovery. Young himself wandered on, practically wearing the same shirt over tshirt combo he wore at Glastonbury. He was an unstoppable force and technically accomplished. If you closed your eyes, he sounded like he hadn’t aged a day. His fans were enthralled. His encore coup was to drag Paul McCartney onstage for The Beatles’ A Day in the Life. McCartney, leaping like a puppy, mock bowed to Neil Young’s force, a Wayne’s World homage to the master, but for me, Young was not the highlight.
On the Friday, The Killers’ Brandon Flowers commanded his audience like a preacher, hamming it up with an evangelical look in his eyes, almost laying his hands out over his congregation, who responded with total loyalty singing his words back to him. Theirs was a dramatic show, with pyrotechnics, and dramatic Arizona sunset backdrops adding to the magnitude of the occasion.
Before them The Kooks dirtied their sound up a bit to welcome approval but lost it towards the end, while Canada’s Metric electrified in the Pepsi Max tent.
Sunday belonged to The Boss. Bruce Springsteen was the man. The day after playing Glasto, he gave a full three hours to his adoring Hyde Park fans, starting with The Clash’s London Calling. There was a distinct lack of denim in the crowd, probably thanks to the scorching heat, but no shortage of faded t-shirts bearing Bruce’s tour dates through the ages. He was the perfect showman, mixing old and new, playing to the crowd by carefully picking song requests from the crowd. A particular highlight was to see The Sopranos’ Silvio – long-time E Street Band member Steven Van Zandt, in his element. For a man of any age it was a heroic, energetic performance, but for Bruce, it was a walk in the park.
He was supported by American supergroup, the Dave Matthews Band, whose world-influenced rock has failed to make an impact on the UK.
But the weekend belonged to Seasick Steve. Success may have come to him late in life, but he’s savouring it the way he does his whiskey and he’s weathered just as well. |
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