#1 - Geneva, 17.12.1978

More from the vaults. Gig #1. 32 years ago this very day. Recollections were put down about 10 years ago, but it's obvious that this show still holds a very special place in my heart... 

I had only seen Genesis once before - in Paris on September 9th, that same year - and had never heard of any Peter gigs until that moment. When I found from subsequent reviews that on that very day Peter had performed in Knebworth I was quite unsettled and began having regrets... So when I saw the small ad in the Italian magazine Ciao 2001 that Medianova Spettacoli (a specialist company that organized trips abroad to see rock concerts) had set up busses to see Peter in Paris and in Geneva I didn't want to miss my chance.

It must be pointed out for youngsters and foreigners that in the late Seventies Italy was completely left out by any international artist tour schedule due to the long history of chaos at Italian gigs in the first half of the decade: sometimes concerts would not be affected and the havoc took place outside (many of the Torino 1975 Genesis reviews titled something along the lines of "cars burn in the street while the lamb lies down"...), but plenty of times the show themselves were interrupted by self proclaimed "autonomi" that under the slogan "music should be free" really did make a mess forcing their way inside halls without buying tickets.

Witness of these asshole's behavior were for example Led Zeppelin in 1972 (when large part of the audience was forced to get onto the stage itself to avoid fights), Lou Reed in 1973 (after disorders during his Italian support act, his set only lasted three or four numbers), and Santana in 1977 (whose show was abruptly cut short by molotov bombs and police tear-gas shots...).

I was 16 years old at the time, young and naive, and didn't care much for all the political protest. Music was all I cared for, and I remember "working" at my mother's house chores for a week to raise the money for the trip to Switzerland (it was like: half a buck for each of the brass pieces that I would wash and polish...)!! It was my very first Gabriel gig, as I said, but to this day - over 20 years later - memories are quite vivid: it would be impossible, though, trying to recapture that magic with words, and my aim in writing this down is only to fix some points and give voice to some of my feelings as I remember them from that night. Thus be warned that what you will read are obviously and evidently biased opinions...

The busload of Italians that like me had decided to "give Peter a try" arrived at the doors of the hall in the early afternoon. We were the first ones and as soon as the gates opened it was an easy job filling up all of the rows at the front of the stage with fellow countrymen...

Support act was a great (IMHO) new wave american group - The Shirts - fronted by a singer with an excellent voice - Annie Golden. As far as I know they split up around 1980, and Annie Golden went on to become an actress (she did "Hair!" and another film I saw with her also featured Debbie Harry from Blondie - but this is bringing me quite off topic...). All I wanted to say is that ever since then Peter showed the exquisite politeness of coming out before the support band to introduce them to an audience that simply ignored there would be such an act: a gesture that I believe still has no equals in rock. Between ballads and rockers, their set (and Golden's voice) was enough to make me appreciate the group, and once back home I did get three of their albums and a couple of singles (don't know if they put out any more than that...) and always enjoyed them ever since.

Anyway, The Shirts were soon through and with all lights still up in the hall (a big unremarkable squarish venue - only thing I seem to remember is that sits on the sides and at the back of the hall, opposite the stage - were made of some weird sort of scaffolding), a white jeans and white t-shirt clad Peter (but with a "Mozo!" headline on the front) began slowly walking his way through the crowd. Most of the Swiss didn't notice anything special, and only when he arrived in sight of "our" rows the commotion really began. I still remember that my first reaction in shaking hands with my "idol" (hey: I was a spotty teenager at the time!) was that he looked much older than the pictures of him I knew. But I will say more of his audience walk later on. Among jumps and screams, handshakes and embraces, it took Peter over ten minutes to finally make it through and get onto the stage. This was quite simple and unadorned, with 8 or 9 lamps that hanged down from the ceiling - something like those you can find in homes or offices - helped building an intimate atmosphere. The oddest thing was a sort of octopus puppy also hanging down from one of them: I never knew whether this was from one of the band or the roadies or what... I spent over an hour, waiting for the show to start, drawing a sketch of the stage (I remember counting each single light to make a faithful portrait...): this I kept for years and years and I must still have it somewhere, but now that I can finally use it for something and show it on this page I can't seem to find it... :-(

Peter started talking in French introducing his old friend Teddy (a rather large and inflatable version - not the same panda he had for example at Knebworth and which a lot of pictures portray him with). The actual song, Moi Et Mon Teddy Bear, was in fact cut up into different parts: first a verse then some chitchat; another verse and more chat... and so on. All was in French and I confess I didn't get a single word. In my position was probably half of the audience: true, Geneva is in the French side of Switzerland, but more and more voices started shouting to Peter to speak English, and Peter's answer was that that night he would only speak French... "or Italiano". That, of course, stirred up another couple of minutes of commotion that drowned any attempt of going on with Teddy Bear. And it was not the first nor the last time that such "accidents" would happen during the night.

As it as already been well documented elsewhere, at the end of this number Peter started donning large fluorescent gloves and the orange fluo shirt that characterized his appearance on that tour. Finally as he was talking and explaining that it was time to get to work and call some coworkers, the lights in the hall started dimming and some electronic music started in the background (the track is called On Presuming To Be Modern, - there's three different mixes/versions of it on the cd, and it's taken from the "Chords" album by Synergy that you can find here). Peter picked up a powerful spotlight and with it started roaming the audience. After a couple of minutes other lights began responding to Peter's call, and once again walking through the audience Jerry Marotta (drums), Larry Fast (Mr.Synergy himself - keyboards), Sid McGinnis (guitars & cigarette hanging down his lips), Tony Levin (bass) and Timmy Capello (sax and keyboards) joined our man on the stage.

The show could then start "for real" with such a rocking version of On The Air that it was impossible to simply stay down on the floor, and all Italians (and quite a few Swiss, I suppose) stood suddenly up and started swaying and jumping in a frenzy (it was more like a punk scene at that moment than a b.o.f. ex-Genesis' gig). The crowd reaction was not that happy at our gesture, and the constant cries of "assit! assit!" (sit down! sit down!) kept creeping up during all subsequent pauses between each song and the next one. They were all constantly ignored too except for a brief moment during Mother of Violence... but that's a few songs ahead)

Moribund The Burgermeister - and I will point out once again that this was a first "live" impression, and not forewarned by videos or photos - was an eerie experience: Peter's walk and expressions (that nowadays can be very well seen on the Rockpalast video...) were something that really struck a note of oddity which the "I will find out" refrain only helped enhancing. The strange lyrics and at times dissonant arrangement, together with an infectious but slightly "uncoordinated" rhythm, all contribute to make this one of the songs I still recall more vividly.

With Perspective we were back in more traditional rock territory, but in this case the visual attraction, rather than Peter, was Timmy Capello saex playing... No, that's not a typo: he really did perform in quite a "suggestive" way (with Peter playing along and sort of humping him from behind!), and if you only have in mind his "Conan" looks on the Tina Turner shows and videos in the late Eighties, you are far far away from what he looked like then (again, the gallery or the Rockpalast video can give a fair idea of what I'm saying!).

To my ears, this is the tour where Humdrum sounded at its best. Larry's textures together with Peter's work on piano and synth were the essential elements in building a real kind of magic: the "meaningless" words (by Peter's own admission they were picked for sound rather than sense) in the coda got such a coloring from all this that the song - a veritable trademark of Peter's early years - really stood out as a central piece of the first part of his career.

After Teddy (that for the British might have been a single b-side, but to me was totally unheard of...) this was the second New Song of the night: actually untitled, it has gone under a different set of names from bootleg to bootleg and review to review (sometimes "New Song" - as opposed to "new new song" which was an early incarnation of Family Snapshot more conveniently titled from it's refrain, again, by bootleggers and tape traders, as "Get On Back"... - sometimes "Nothing" or its French and German counterparts, respectively "Rien" and "Nichts"). Whatever the name, the "negative" in the title - as well as more obviously the music - gave away the fact that this early sketch would later become Not One Of Us. The funny thing is that while the verse in the early version disappeared from the final song, the chorus remained but lost the words and turned into the instrumental bridge of the released track. Lyrics were mostly improvised and gabrielese, and the music, though catchy and with a "hanging finale" (that was left to the audience caught in the little trick of catch phrase and response), definitely gained from subsequent changes and rearrangements that turned it into the released official number.

Then it was time for another favorite from that era/tour: what I said for the final part of Humdrum holds even more true for White Shadow. This time with the "added value" of Timmy Capello as second keyboard player (actually third one, in the song long instrumental section, when Peter was playing his Prophet too) and some really excellent steel guitar work by McGinnis (in other parts of the show his sound was far too metallic and rough for my taste, but here it fit in perfectly).

DIY always was an incredibly nice pop song, though I don't really understand Peter's high hopes for charting with such a single (he brought it out twice): for a start, the lyrics were far too clever; and though the melody was and is quite catchy and the refrain rocks, it still remains far too quirky for an age where Abba and the likes were top of the charts! That he was never completely satisfied with the recorded version it's testified by the three different ones available (not including the live one from Plays Live), but also by the worked and reworked live arrangement.

Like on the previous tour (of which I had read a couple of reviews) during Waiting For The Big One Peter once again introduced his crowd walking routine. First of all, though one could hear him singing, looking on stage he was nowhere to be seen, and his place was taken by Timmy Capello on the piano. Then, since Peter voice kept coming through the PA, you started looking around, and all of a sudden there was a noise from the crowd at the far end of the hall: there was Peter all right, but only illuminated during the verses. The fact that he sung one verse on one corner and that the next verse was done in a totally different place where he had moved to in the dark added to the spooky effect and sense of "displacement": reading about it was one thing, but seeing it was different. Peter always said it was done to establish a "closer" relationship with the audience and to break down the traditional barriers between public and performer, but I must confess that this kind of displacement had different effects on me: first, I was angry because I couldn't see much of what was happening, and also, though my experience of real life rock concerts was at the time very limited, I always thought it looked more like a showoff than an act of "getting on the level"... I'm not saying it was, but I believe that Peter's point was much better clarified later on by beginning the show with either Intruder or Rhythm Of The Heat and with the stage dive for Lay Your Hands On Me - maybe because the gesture acquired a sort of iconic status that it totally lacked in 1978. Oh, well: whatever... To finish with the song, Big One was also a way for displaying the whole band instrumental ability and professionalism by swopping their roles all around. And even Peter ended up at Jerry's kit thumping away, more or less in time...

Though possibly one of the greatest numbers Peter ever wrote from a melodic point of view, Mother Of Violence has often struggled to come out even half decent on stage. Maybe theaters and smaller clubs were better, but in larger halls it almost invariably totally lost sound and significance if you were not standing two meters from Peter. In this case I was, and I loved every tenth of a second of it...

For totally different reasons, Slowburn is another song that I always liked more in its studio incarnation rather than live: I remember its complex changes of mood and rhythm breaks, the full blown orchestral bits as opposed to the much quieter piano passages were quite complicated to reproduce on stage, and that night version was no exception.

Then it was time for another new number: I Don't Remember, Peter has been known to say, marked the start of his working method "rhythm up" (using the very first programmable PAiA drum machine - that Larry Fast had helped programming, if I'm not mistaken). As many others, the song went thorough a number of changes: the Geneva version was very close to the one that finally ended up as the b-side of the Games Without Frontiers single. The lyrics were almost finished by then (compared with some of the European or American earlier dates version the Gabrielese vocals had virtually disappeared) and the bass still played the lead role in building the track spine (rather than piano & guitar).

There's frankly very few words that I can spend on Solsbury Hill and Modern Love: both singles off the first album (much better received than either version of D.I.Y.) they have always been among PG's most heard songs of all and especially the first - an "anthem" since it's very first appearance. An orgy of dancing and rocking for the very audience that I believe was hardly characteristic for those that might have expected something along the lines of old Genesis shows...

A little bit of which surfaced during the first encore of The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway. It was, though, even then, sheer nostalgia. Wearing Rael's leather jacket was fun, and this was indeed what made Peter's solo version peculiar: it became a "funny" song, loosing any kind of dramatic overtone that it used to have before. In the final chorus Peter even dropped the mike in one of the jacket pockets and started strutting up and down the stage, swaying his hips, with a silly grin and waving good-bye with his hand... A great song, of course, nonetheless hilarious to say the least...

That's were usual shows would end, but this was the last night of an extremely long tour - though split into a few different legs - that had brought Peter all over the world since August. There would be an appendix in London the following week with a five night residency at the Hammersmith Odeon, but that probably felt like a "home match" and didn't count too much. Anyway, as I would learn in the following years, last nights on any tour are always meant for some sort of celebration (I'm specificaly thinking of the French 83 tour finale in Brest, and the Secret World Tour at the Paris Zenith), and this was no exception. So after the obvious encore, Peter and the band came back on stage, this time accompanied by all of The Shirts for a raging version of All Day And All Of The Night (the Kinks' classic that used to be part of the set in 1977 but, as far as I know, was unplayed since... they probably just rehearsed it during the soundcheck for a while). It was evident that both Peter and Annie were enjoying the duet (probably thinking of the rest they would get after that night) and it was a more than fitting conclusion for the show, the tour and my own private dream come true...


Setlist

Moi Et Mon Teddy Bear
On Presuming To Be Modern
On The Air
Moribund The Burgermeister
Perspective
Humdrum
New Song
White Shadow
D.I.Y.
Waiting For The Big One
Mother Of Violence
Slowburn
I Don't Remember
Solsbury Hill
Modern Love

The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway
All Day And All Of The Night (w./The Shirts)


(This review was originally posted over 10 years ago on my old, old website. The original format is still available here)

#125 - Paris, Bercy, 10.12.1998

Waiting for a chance of doing something new, here's one more from the vault. Originally written for the Solsbury Hill website. Regurgitated here unedited and untouched for your reading pleasure...

Lights went out and the first batch of videos began to show: it was actually the same video made in 1988 by a number of excellent visual artists from all over the world to illustrate each and every one of the articles of the Universal Declaration Of Human Rights. Mixed with them, however, were some bits and pieces of Amnesty documentaries, a promotional clip (done for the US, I expect) of Amnesty's Get Up Sign Up campaign in support of the UDHR which featured among others, Michael Stipe, Harry Belafonte, Gabriel Byrne, more actors and actresses of different kinds... Also, interspersed with these images, was footage from the 1990 "Abrazo a la Esperanza" show held in Chile, which also featured Tracy, Peter, Sting, Inti Illimani, Sinead O'Connor and more.

Finally, the show got a kick start thanks to the 4 "survivors" from 1988 Human Rights Now Tour: Tracy Chapman, Peter Gabriel, Youssou N'Dour and Bruce Springsteen took to the stage, sort of picking up the thread with the same song that opened (and closed) the shows of a decade ago: Bob Marley's Get Up Stand Up.

Then everybody (including Youssou's musicians that had been the backing band for the quartet) left the stage to Peter Gabriel, who in turn introduced (in his croaking french) The Boss, who gave us four songs alone on acoustic guitar and nothinbg else. Not being a huge fan (my knowledge of Springsteeniana doesn't cover too many song titles apart from the obvious hits) I only recognized two tracks: The Ghost Of Tom Joad and Born In The USA (a version similar in mood to the one on the recent boxed set, rather than the radio friendly super-smash). Now, as always, my girlfriend comes to aid telling me that the other two tracks were Working On The Highway and Not Surrender (both from the Born in the USA album).

In the middle of his second number the monitor speaker stopped working, as well (it seemed from a distance) as his guitar jack: after three or four tries he had to give up and walked to the back of the stage for a few seconds, only to re-emerge with the very best help (self proclaimed in countless occasions on his own tours: check Family Snapshot from the Cardiff concert from March 1980 - on the bootleg Chromedome, for example - or even his very first ever solo gig in Passaic, March 1977) in case of technical fuck-ups: ladies and gents, Mr. Gabriel re-enters the stage to babble some incoherent words (too busy laughing: yes even the great ones can screw it up) in a microphone that didn't work.

Exit Mr. Gabriel and Bruce finally delivers his last numbers. A standing ovation - and a really touching moment at that - welcomed the Dalai Lama on stage, introduced by Pierre Sané the secretary general of Amnesty International France and Anita Roddick, founder of The Body Shop, who sponsored the whole day as well as actively being involved in the Get Up Sign Up campaign all over the world. Not your everyday's rockstar, he actually gave a brief but straight to the point speech about how the new generations are those in whose hands the application of the UDHR lies. More cheers and back to the actual show.

It was time for Tracy Chapman to come back, and for me the surprise (I hadn't seen her since '88) was that she actually had a band with her: and it helped a lot on her songs, from the new ones to the very classic Talkin' Bout The Revolution, one of 88's strongest points and '98's as well.

More waiting for the stage to be cleared and some more videos help killing the time till the next set. And yes, we could see the usual piano and effects setup being introduced on the left of the stage by the very same Dickie Chappell (Peter's personal technician both live and in the studio), while I must say that the drums brought forward didn't look much like the regular Manu Katche's kit (not enough pieces and especially cymbals...) - but it turned out to be his after all.

While the techies were still checking microphones and wiring things up, Peter made a discreet entrance and started his own check up of the piano and lyric sheets in plain view on his right... But before he could start with his first number Bruce Springsteen walked back in, and reading (badly - Peter is in a different league!!!) from a piece of phonetic handwriting returned Gabriel's favour of an hour before.

And now for something completely different... After four years we were finally ready to hear Peter's first live outburst (not just made for tv cameras).

With the first number, Red Rain, we're immediately brought back to the usual atmosphere: namely, lyric forgetting, not-too-well-dissimulated tries at pretending he is working on a new version of the song, the odd bum note on the piano. In short, a thrilling performance which having begun with only piano and voice slowly gathers momentum (enter Youssou's bass player and percussionists, David Rhodes and the aforementioned Manu), only to finish with the usual heartfelt passion of piano and voice again.

Second number: Signal To Noise. A hard one to judge.
After the VH-1 mind-blowing sense-crushing version, thanks to Nusrat's amazing improvisations, tonight's reworking lacks the Qawwali Maestro refined arabesques, but in a certain way makes up for it with a staggering powerful beat and Youssou's equally powerful vocals: it's a magical number, and if the album version turns out to be a cross between the two executions I heard until now it might really come out as one of all time's masterpieces (and "Up" will feature Nusrat's voice, according to what Peter told me two years ago or so - mind you: he might have changed his mind about it over two dozens time by now...).

Third and - sob! - final number of his set is In Your Eyes. Joined once more by Youssou, Peter delivers a "normal" version of the song, and everybody can see he still does enjoy the vocal calls and responses with the second voice that we learned to love ever since the 1987 tour (check the POV video - much much better, musically, than the SWL one). Gloom and despair (ours) accompanied Peter off stage.

Yet more videos and then a half hour of Alanis Morissette. Though I liked her first album a lot, as well as her song from the "City of Angels" soundtrack (haven't listend to the new cd yet), her live delivery is a bit on the tedious side. The songs are all good, but the arrangements don't help, and they all tend to sound a bit too similar to one another.

Two more legends (the first two obviously being Peter and Bruce...) take the stage for an excellent 40 minutes set: Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, both probably in their fifties or more, still have fun rocking and rolling, and their songs sound as good now as they did over twenty years ago. Raw energy and musical mastership are the words that better characterize their performance.

A longer intermission (and, you guessed, more videos) made the way for Radiohead's only European performance this year. It's immediately clear that most of the 12-15.000 strong audience is there just to see them. And they do not disappoint their fans: though some magazines had announced a special set, entirely made up of new numbers from their next album, in fact they just played material from the OK Computer album and a couple of older hits. A brilliant performance nonetheless, and though I still frankly cannot see why the press has often labelled them as a Progressive Rock band for the Nineties, I deeply enjoy their music (I had seen them live once before, but compared to the gig in Milan - where the sound is always so bad you keep wondering what on earth pushes you to buy tickets all the time - this sounded spotless!).

It was past midnight by the end of their set, and notwithstanding the halfed crowed Youssou came on stage with a wide green. He might not be huge in the States, but in Europe and especially in France he is "big league" by now, and he behaved accordingly. For his second number he introduced - thank goodness - none other than Peter himself. Together they gave us a largely re-worked version of Shakin' The Tree. Re-worked? Yes indeed, not because new arrangements, but once again thanks to Peter reliability on fucking up lyrics (and probably old contact lenses, as he couldn't read, much as he tried, the lyrics sheet taped to the floor before his microphone). Fortunately, as always, he more than made up for it in the finale of the song, giving us some wild and emotional harmonies (some might call them shrieks, but that's my view...) that chilled many a backbone.

For Youssou's last number Jocelyne and Tracy joined Peter as backing vocals for the (frankly quite poor) rendition of the worldwide top ten single 7 seconds. I'd rather not go into details about this, as I was frankly embarrassed on "many" a performers' behalf for missing cues and (yup) forgetting lyrics again (and they weren't much harder than "Seven seconds away, just as long as I stay, I'll be waiting..."). The end of the song did try to repeat the previous number success, but simply didn't.

Exit our heroes - and 7/8ths of the audience - to leave twenty minutes of rambling rap to the Asian Dub Foundation. Nothing I feel competent about in judging, except for pointing out that I do not like them because of something they told the press in the past, accusing Peter's Real World label of giving Western audiences a much too polished and edulcorated version of what constitutes world music nowadays: sorry folks, but the worst RW album is simply thirty zillions times better than anything you have (or will/could) ever produce.

I did wait a bit more to see if anybody would decide to come back on stage for a final encore, but the lights went up and there was nothing else to do but get back to the hotel with a warm feeling inside. First, we had paid half a fortune for the tickets, but it was all for a great cause. Secondly, we had over six hours of music and 5 and a half of them were absolutely first class. Last but certainly not least, we had seen Peter on a stage again: this was the hundreth-something time, for me, but invariably the experience turns out to be sheer magic (and if I sounded cynical about the whole thing, it's probably only due to excessive love!).

Setlist

Red Rain
Signal To Noise 
In Your Eyes 

Shakin' The Tree (w./Youssou N'Dour) 
Seven Seconds (w./Youssou N'Dour)

On The Air - Tony Levin Band 2005

Schio
Teatro Astra
14.10.2005

another "home" bites the dust...

As of yesterday, November 8th, Apple has "killed" once and for all the homepage.mac service. The application to publish and update pages and galleries had already been discontinued for over a year already, but now the whole content is simply gone.

Once again 'the-intruder.com' domain becomes homeless, moving temporarily (?) to this very blog.
But I do promise I'll put up the "new" site (the one I redesigned some 5 years ago) in september!
What?
No, I'm not going to mention which year either...
;-)

#74 - St,.Austell, Cornwall Coliseum, 28.8.1988

Another one frome the "recycled bin": I had actually reworked and honed this article 3 years ago when I posted it to the "Womad Stories" website, launched on the occasion of the Festival's 25th anniversary. Since that site seems to be gone, and for the moment I have no access to the updated file, here's once again the original Intruder website first draft version. If and when Womad Stories will come back (or I'll buy me a new Mac... ;-) ), I'll swop texts.

St.Austell's Cornwall Coliseum used to be a huge squarish or better cubic concrete/metallic box. I say used to, since as far as I know the whole setting was tore down a few years ago to make place for a newer entertainment center... Anyway, set at the very heart of Carlyon Bay - a really enchanting bay on the southern coast of Cornwall, which, and it's not my opinion only, was the most perfect setting for a Womad Festival - the Coliseum constituted the centre for all the festival's weekend main acts. This, as it used to be a tradition with Womads in the past, were supposed to be "surprise guests" (on the very first one, for example, one got as headliner the incredible line-up of PG, Peter Hammill, David Rhodes, Shankar and Stewart Copeland... but that's another story!).

Since Gabriel was one of the founders, until the late Eighties papers tended to "announce" his presence at each and every Womad regardless of his true intentions and/or availability. But on that night expectations were quite high: the whole festival was sold-out (though it always was, and well in advance) even without any official rumour about Peter's presence. Everybody was waiting for Nusrat's set as a highlight (his previous Womad appearance, in 1985, took not only the UK but the whole soon-to-be-born World Music scene by storm), but I remember that around four or five o'clock in the afternoon, a strange mood strated taking over the whole bay... and that by 6 the main hall of the Coliseum was fully packed - a more or less 5.000 people capacity, I believe - and HOT!

At a quarter past eight, the house announcer came on stage to introduce the special guest, and by Jove!, it was Peter indeed... Dressed in a black jacket and trouser suit, he looked relaxed and acknoledged the crowd's ovation by saying:
«It's nice to be back at Womad. We have quite a bunch of musicians on stage tonight, and we tried to put together a set that was different from the usual. We start with our own cotribution to the Womad phenomenon: it goes under the title of Across The River».

That was just the first in a long series of master strokes that night. On stage with Peter were Manu Katche, David Sancious, and David Rhodes - i.e.: 4/5ths of the 1987 band, with only Tony Levin missing. On bass was indeed a new face for me, Daryl Jones (who had previously played with Sting and which later joined the Rolling Stones on tour). But that was not all, since four more musicians were on stage from the very first minute: on guest vocals Youssou N'Dour, accompanied by two of his band's most important members, Babacar Faye and Hassan Thiam on percussion and odd dance steps, with a further special guest appearance on vocals and electronic violin by L.Shankar. And from such a line-up one immediately could surmise big surprises might come at every step.

Across The River was, to say the least, sublime: a very long, choral, vocal introduction slowly gave way to the rhythm, harder and harder and more infectious with each passing beat. Probably one of the best incarnations ever of the track: given that kind of a band, a much fuller and warmer sound than either the studio or previous/later live versions. Literally, one of a kind.

Not much time to start breathing again or realize that you were really there, than Peter introduced a totally new song, described as part of The Last Temptation Of Christ soundtrack (NB: the film had been out in the States for a couple of months, while in Europe it was still unscreened - I actually took a 42 hours Milan-London-Milan train trip to see it right a the end of the HRN European tour leg!! but that's another story...). The title, improvised as musch as the song itself on that night: African Shuffle.

It being the first hearing of the (much) later to come «Passion» album, the first impression that struck me was how much rhythm really was at the base of Peter's writing process: the drum machine pattern was at the forefront of the sound, and upon that the voices and other instruments began drawing unexpected twists and turns. It was all - on Peter's behalf - sung in classic style gabrielese, with the refrain that literally seemed to cut the song into different sections. I might as well point out that what I'm trying to describe is a very "early" version (the man himself would probably label it unrehearsed) of A Different Drum...

Peter was, as usual, standing behind his faithful Yamaha piano and Prophet 5 synth: often searching for the other musicians eyes to give instructions about the different "sections" they are actually playing. A process which has always left me with the feeling that his method for "improvising" actually needs to learn every minimal detail first and then forget/discard it in search of a different/better way during the actual performance... Hey: no complaints, there, as this very kind of improvising style was always able to give me shivers down the spine!

After these kind of kicks - and after Shankar and Youssou had left the stage - the following three numbers - «some songs that are part of the usual set» - might sound like a sort of letting down. The first is Red Rain, a remarkable execution, even more powerful than the 1987 version, followed by the almost total disaster of Don't Give Up: here is where Tony's absence is more felt, since Daryl's touch - great in other parts - really doesn't help the building up of the whole first part of the song. The chorus and the finale are excellent as usual, and even though the crowd really doesn't take part as much as a proper Gabriel audience would, the end makes justice of it all.

No Self Control is another strike: memories of 1987 and the amazing lightshow linger in my mind but are soon swept away by the newer rendition. The Varilites absence makes for some odd moments, though, and Peter himself walks up and down the stage looking a wee bit lost himself... At times he almost smiles embarrassed while looking for the booms' sweeps that never come. The lack of acting and visuals, in the end, does not subtract one bit from the musical performance, on par with the best.

Then came the moment that one might dream all of one's life but never sees it happen... For me it was worth the whole trip from Italy to Cornwall and more: it was a "payback" for all the crazy things I've done in order to see Peter perform live.

Peter walked out of the stage for a couple of minutes. On coming back he brings a simple wooden chair that he places in the centre of the stage. Out again only to come back in another minute guiding a huge man that I had never seen in person before and that surely made an impression. The man is none other that Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. «This song is totally improvised» announces Peter, «except for the base of the track that was written for The Last Temptation Of Christ - and for this reason we cast our faith to the wind». Incidentally, as I found out later on from a print out of the setlist, the title of the song for that night was Islamic Offbeat. Now, this is really something that I find hard to describe in words.

Being wise after the event is easy, and since on the HRN Tour (which started one week later at London's Wembley Stadium) he actually performed it again, though in an abbreviated form, the real title can be unveiled as Of These Hope. But if you keep reading you will find out that that was not all. The slow chord sequence at the beginning immediately built an amazing mood. Keyboards and violin merging and then leaving it up to Peter's and Youssou's vocals - clear and cutting as ice. Slowly, really slowly, Nusrat started joining in. I find myself wondering what he might be thinking: after all, though he's played in front of Western audiences before, this must indeed be his very first "rock" performance ever...

Slowly, really slowly, Nusrat gains confidence and enter"s the riff's mood. Both Peter and Youssou at this point simply shut up in awe, and only assent to each other and to Nusrat, inviting him to just go ahead on his own. An thus the song gets to its climax. In the space of a couple of seconds that Nusrat stops singing and the music apparently fades slowly out, the whole crowd jumps up as one for the most incredible and heartfelt standing ovation I have ever witnessed. Nusrat, just like the audience, is probably fooled into believing that would be the end of the song: he stands up as well and repeatedly bows in thanks. Nonetheless, Islamic Offbeat is everything but finished.

I don't know wether it was intended that way - with the middle pause - or wether it was just on the spur of the moment, but Peter starts signalling Daryl Jones to keep pumping that bass, so that the rhythm gets tighter and tighter and the song takes up again (again, with the wisdom of the here and now, this time they shift from Of These Hope to the chords and riffs of the actual "Passion" track: amazing!). Another sign from Peter and the rest of the band get back into the beginning riff with double the strenght and a series of sudden bursts of chopped piano that just go to show how much Peter himself is getting carried away by it all. Nusrat turns to look at Peter, then sits down again and once again he begins transporting all of us on higher level of conscience.

He accompanies/guides himself with little gestures of his hands, just like directing the full orchestra that lies within his own voice. Peter, Youssou and Shankar join back in the chant, and I really believe that you can forget all that three tenors crap and hype: here were three of the best singers ever, together on the same stage, not showing off their ability but giving vent to such a wall of feeling that it's enough to bring me to tears. I wish - I believe as everybody else - that such a moment could go on forever. But, alas!, it is not so. Once again, more from the audiences scream than for the musicians real intentions, the sound is covered by another standing ovation. Peter announces Nusrat's name and the crowd covers the fading notes once and for all. All in all, it lasted 9 minutes and a handful of seconds. 9 minutes that were some of the best in my whole life.

Again, after such a piece going back to Sledgehammer and In Your Eyes is like getting back on your feet to walk after having felt what it's like to have wings and soar the skies... I only have enough attention to mark a really shortened version of IYE (in comparison to the 1987 tour version), that something special happens again. This time it's even more of a surprise because it comes from where I least expected it: ie, from Biko.

Yes indeed! Having heard it at every single Gabriel gig since 1980, I wasn't too fond of it anymore (as I am not now... I will confess), but Peter managed to rework it in such a way that besides putting the sense of novelty into it, really gave the song even more meaning. And the Womad performance beats hand down any of those (though with a similar arrangement) from the subsequent Human Rights Now world tour.

Starting out in the utmost silence (and that in itself could only have been possible at a Womad gig...!), no drums, no guitar, no keyboards: just a drone made up of the band's vocals (uhmmm hah-uhmmm hah...) and Peter's voice less than whispering the first verse's words.

The chorus gets a slightly fuller instrumental background, while the voices all together remain unbelievably quiet and loose. As it gets to the second and third verse the whole slowly, very slowly gatheres momentum. And the addition of one simple sentence before the final chorus (Waiting for a change, waiting for a change to come) lets Peter play around with the song even more. And I sincerely believe that out of the 5,000 people inside the Coliseum not a single one of them was silent or didn't raise his/her hand for the finale.

Setlist

Across The River
African Shuffle
Red Rain
Don't Give Up
No Self Control
Islamic Offbeat
Sledgehammer
In Your Eyes

Biko

The Rhythm Of The Heat@Hamburg

Live in Hamburg, at the O2 Arena, on the last night of the New Blood Tour.
A majestic performance by the Orchestra. 

Xtra #1 - Milton Keynes, 2.10.1982

Here's another rehashed piece...

This was written around 1984/1985, as a response to the literally hundreds of times people asked me "what was the reunion like?". With the friends from Paperlate (an Italian Genesis & Prog fanzine) we published the whole step by step - emotional, rather than musical - account as a special Xmas issue. It has since become a collector's item and I saw it for sale at Record Fairs for outrageous money...! 

The article was later slightly revised and included as an appendix in my book "Sognando Un Mondo Reale" (published in 1986) - later still, this was nearly verbatim quoted in the liner notes of the bootleg "The Lamb Woke Up Again". 

Sometimes in 2006 I made my first (very short lived) steps in the "blogging arena": there were huge rumours about another possible reunion, at the time, and I decided to translate the old article into English. In doing so, I tried to stick as much as possible to the original idea of a "flow of (un)consciousness" report. I thought of republishing it last saturday, on the anniversary day of that historical October the 2nd, but I was (luckily!) too busy watching PG in Koln. Oh, whatever... "here it comes again" ...

Foreword #1

1980 saw the birth of a very peculiar fanzine, by the name of The Bristol Recorder. It consists of a written part (articles, interviews, reviews...) and an audio one in the form of an Lp (dedicated to "local" bands and musicians out of the Bristol area). Bath is in fact only a handful of miles away from Bristol, and Peter Gabriel has just finished sorting out his own studio in the district, so he offers it to the fanzine people to record some local act. As a thank you, one might believe, and at the same time as a way of gaining a wider appeal and recognition, the second issue of The Recorder includes an interview with PG - one of the most interesting I had seen at the time, showing a clever approach steering quite far off the beaten path of the "why did you leave genesis?" times. Plus, featured in the audio section on the Lp, are 3 live takes from different stages of Peter's career, remixed and dabbed with for the occasion... (sigh!). Amongst the fanzine authors and promoters is a guy called Thomas Brooman, and the friendship between him and Peter, sparked on that occasion, survives alive and robust to this day.

Foreword #2

A dream is born as friends talk, exchange opinions, and discover their shared interested in non-western music. And in the course of nearly two years they organize a three day festival to be held at the Royal Bath And West Show-ground, near Shepton Mallet, between the 16th and the 18th of July 1982). 

Three days dedicated to a World Of Music Arts And Dance. WOMAD. 

What is it exactly? That's not easy to say for the rock crowd that was used to the Readings and Knebworths of those years: there's music of course, but also books, stalls, foods, costumes, meetings, lessons... Taking part in it are artists from 56 different countries, from all over the world. Fort those who attended a revealing experience of something we had never seen the like of. But for the organizers it's the beginning of a nightmare: not enough media coverage and a British Railway strike crash the original dream of gathering something between 50 and 60 thousand people. Only about 20.000 show up at the gates. Gabriel had helped spend his name with potential sponsors and the site workers, and when things turned sour his name was the one the creditors appealed to seeking compensation. Big time trouble indeed. 

Foreword #3

On September the 15th, 1982, Genesis play a concert on the very same ground that Womad had used 2 months earlier. Peter is there too to say hi to his old band-mates. Having learned of his troubles the band offers him the proceeds from one of their shows. Peter gracefully declines. Enters Tony Smith, at the time manager of both Peter and Genesis: he is the first to devise a way that the group might help its former singer without hurting any feelings. A reunion show. After some internal struggle - he had done all he could to separate his own solo career from the band's past years - Gabriel accepts. The show is set for October the 2nd, 1982, and will take place at the end of Genesis' European leg of the tour, at the Milton Keynes Bowl. On that day, Mike Rutherford celebrates his 31st birthday. This time, the show his publicized all over the globe, on both sides of the Atlantic and even in AUstralia and Japan. The result is that on October 1st, at about 10 p.m., under a steady rain, there's already a few hundred people sleeping and queuing in front of the gates... It has begun... (sleeping?) 

October 2nd, 1982

John Martin... 

Blues Band... 

Talk Talk... 

and then...

Black curtains are drawn to reveal the stage, still immersed in darkness. A few blue spots are turned on. A weird guy with a glittering green livery, full of shiny buttons and ribbons, gets to the centre of the stage and starts to talk: "About 15 years ago...". We don't have a clue, but from his words we gather he is Jonathan King. Heck, who cares... 60.000 people are jumping up and down as one when his speech gets to an end: "...Please welcome Six Of The Best!". 
We hear drums, a pre recorded and very familiar pattern. All the musicians walk in and take their place at their respective instruments and positions. The drums go on. And on.
4 more guys out of a funeral parlor, all in black with matching top hats, walk onto the stage carrying a white coffin. It lasts for a couple of minutes but it feels like hours. The guys walk away and the coffin lid starts to move, almost imperceptibly. Amidst the huge crowd noise it seems one can actually hear the evil creaking from the wood being unriveted. 

I see faces and traces of home... 
Resurrection?! Indeed, the man that comes out of the coffin has nothing to do with the Peter Gabriel we had learned to love in those 7 years since he did "resign". The guy standing there, shouting his lungs out, is none other than Rael. And even though you have never seen the band before 1976 you just "get it" in a flash, grasping what a "Gabriel era" Genesis show must have been like. It really is just a matter of seconds, while Rael runs all over the place, and you do understand it all. 

Can you tell me where my country lies? 

And it's a giant chorus that entirely submerges the sound system. We don't have time to breathe, to reassure ourselves that it's all true, and the classic synth arpeggio of Carpet Crawlers brings us to yet another dimension. 

The crawlers cover the floor... 
Yes, I realize that there is no way of treating this as a concert review. Everything one can write about this "concert" just becomes sort of obvious, useless, redundant. When Peter literally crawls, slowly, on his knees, towards the edge of the stage, everybody in the front rows of the audience is simply convinced that his eyes are firmly planted on him. Each and every one. And they're all probably right! It doesn't matter if the voice is different, the tone has changed and it really doesn't match the majestic music the other five guys are pushing through in the background. It doesn't matter if he forgets the words. It might be sweat, or rain, but those on his cheeks - on our cheeks - are the sweetest tears ever. Shivers so intense get hold of my spine, running from head to toes, that I'm literally, physically, out of myself. 

You've got to get in to get out... 
This time, as the last notes fade away, all of the 60.000 delirious fans sing together "Happy Birthday" to Mike. When we're through, Peter speaks for the first time: he tells us about Womad and explains that "In return for your cash we will try to give you what we think you would like of this combination". Phil counts the time and 

The path is clear, though no eyes can see... 
What can I say about such a piece? We smile when Peter picks his flute up, but has to look back at Phil and wait for him to signal - counting out the time once more - for the right moment to join in the instrumental. But you're immediately captured by the guitar and keyboards which seem to be there, at that precise moment, reminding everyone that there's some amazing musicianship on that stage. I guess most of the people were there looking for a night of nostalgia and discovery at the same time: it was Peter back with Genesis, not the other way round... But Phil sitting "quietly" behind his drums, dueting with Chester, gives us an unheard of, unprecedented sound. Mike and Tony are there: what else could I say that doesn't sound trite? Clean, efficient, majestic. To my ears the weakest link is Daryl: not that he isn't an excellent musician, he just isn't Steve... After the instrumental bridge, Peter comes back on stage but he has changed from Rael's leather jacket to a white shirt. "The sands of time were eroded by the river of constant change". And the last piano notes hang there in the air for what seems like an eternity.

"This is a message  from all up here to you down there, particularly at the back [the stage was at least 3 meters high]: it's a good job it isn't raining. We appreciate that you're still here". 
Now, besides the fact that it WAS raining... who in his right state of mind would have ever dreamed of leaving the place at that moment? "Naah, seen a couple of songs, you seen them all... Let's go for a pint..." Yeah, like that would happen! 

"Croquet is a particularly vicious British sport..." 
Cynthia, Henry, the nurse: all the characters from the best musical fable ever written come back to life. And I'm reminded of all the critics who have written off Genesis music as "stinking", "old", "dated and unable to withstand the passing of time". Well, there we are, and when the Musical Box is opened once again the sound it delivers is as current as can be. It is in fact eternal. Energy on stage is at its peak: phenomenal. It's almost as if they never went their separate ways: even the voice now matches the music to perfection. Maybe I did get distracted and had a quick glimpse at the other musicians, but when the time comes for the guitar/keyboard solos Peter is nowhere to be seen. As suddenly as he vanished he reappears, donning a long black coat and an old man's mask. Different from the one I knew from pictures. With longer hair, and I smirk to myself at the thought that in the magical world of Genesis even props get older... 

I've been waiting here for so looong... 

why don't you touch me... 

NOW... NOW... NOW... NOW... NOW... 

This is crazy. When the old man falls back on his knees, in unrequited love/lust, you feel yourself falling down with him. And if it were not for the astonishing crowd at your back you'd just be happy to end it there and then, drowning in the mud that by now is up to our knees. 

After some really weird and not totally understandable babble form Peter about soap bars, birthday boy and traveling in a wardrobe... it's time for something "that has nothing to do with one of these: Solsbury Hill". 

Wow. Double wow! 
We're really getting too far out here: Peter is singing the song that everybody thinks "explains" the reasons why he left Genesis... together with them! A nearly impeccable execution and it's time for introducing all the rest of the guys on stage. Chester, Daryl, Mike, Tony and then "a talented new singer who I'm sure you will like, and he will sing you one of his songs: Phil Collins!" He jumps out of his hiding kit and in turn announces: "and for the first time on drums: Peter Gabriel!" and Chester drives it on with the 4/4ths beat on the bass drum for Turn It On Again. 

Another aside reflection that seemed to emerge in my deeply altered state of conscience [entirely due to the current event and not chemically or alcoholically induced, let me reassure you!], was that the songs, title and verses, all had some "deeper" meaning, and that their sequence in itself had a sort of not-too-hidden message... 

• "I see faces and traces of home"

Yes, everyone there, even the farthest out, are faces and traces from a past that has been brought back. 

• "Can you tell me where my country lies?"

How many people are here from how many countries? 

• "You've got to get in to get out"

How about the band itself? All those who entered the chamber of 32 doors, at the end of the corridor, invariably tried to get out but were led back inside. Except for Rael? 

• "The path is clear"

Everybody today is following its own path, totally free. All part of the "river of constant change". 

• "I've been waiting here for so long"

7 years... Seven long years filled with doubts and questions: will you (Peter) and you (Genesis) manage to go on your separate ways? And how? But they're here and Now, now, now, now, now... Time has gone backwards for one night, everything has been restarted, and the record in the juke-box has been selected once more. Time to turn it on again... 


After a "wonderful" mistake by PG in telling the "wrong" story, we're introduced to the adventures of a man by the name of Saplock (uh?). He was a collector of all kinds of rubbish, so when his dog Renaldo died he decided he wanted to keep him all the same and brought him to a taxidermist... After a week, Saplock tried to find for the stuffed Renaldo a more comfortable position and put him on the table in front of the fireplace. All of a sudden the dog's eyes started to move, as well as his tail. And even the table began sprouting leaves and branches. Everything started moving back in time and even a rock went back to life. And it was a little "Lamb". 

"Early morning Manhattan..." 
Yes indeed: Rael comes back with a vengeance and we're chasing him around the New York City scenery and into a world that allows for a new journey of discovery with every listen. 8 years have passed since this music was written and performed first, and it is amazing, in the age of synth-pop, that one can still hear it coming alive! The doubled-up drums are doing an extraordinary job, and nobody gives a damn when Peter messes up a wee bit of the newly arranged finale to the song. But wait: that is not a finale... 

"Something solid's forming in the air..."

WTF? What are they getting themselves - and us - into? 

"Echoes of the Broadway everglades..." 
Good grief. I don't believe it: it can't be true! 

"I got sunshine in my stomach..." 
Blimey! I start to believe they'll keep on going, so even though I hear In The Cage drawing to a conclusion, I'm partially deluded of having been transported back to 1975 and that the full Lamb will follow... When some of the shock wears down and flows in waves out of my body, I can begin to breath again. Not for long, though, as Peter goes back to the story he mistakenly anticipated before this totally new "Lamb stew": the girl in green trousers suit (and matching poodle...). And again, I think how bizarre is the fact that we're listening to one of the factual reasons why Peter left the band. The story, printed on the back sleeve of the Genesis Live album of 1973, actually prompted director Will Friedkin to get in touch with Gabriel offering him to write a movie script. And in due turn this brought to the first major fracture in the group, way before the Lamb was actually written or even conceived. 

Anyway, the end of the story reveals that the words written on the laundry ticket pinned to the suit were... 
... Supper's Ready ... And this is "the moment". The one song that every one of the 60.000 people inside the Bowl - bar a dozen or two (and I'm talking about the cleaning squad for the venue after the show) - probably wanted to hear the most. It's easily the most allegorical and symbolical song in the whole Genesis repertoire. For most simply the best. And finally, it's at this point that it enters my mind that I'm actually witnessing a real Genesis concert. 

"Walking across the sitting room" 
On stage, Peter looks as emotional as he probably was at that very first Charterhouse gig with The Anon and Garden Wall. Those in the crowd, if they feel half of what I am feeling, are reduced to nervous wrecks. 

"It's been a long long time..." 

The mixture of tears and rain is what I remember the most.

"Hey you!"

It's a giant, gripping and enthralling chorus. And Peter is evidently crying once again.

"Wearing feelings on our faces..." 
No need to, in fact. There is no possible way of masking the real sentiments pouring out of his and our visages. 

"Today's a day to celebrate..." 

...and so it will for years and years to come, in some private yet shared ritual, everyone with his private memories and feelings, yet all aware that tonight is something so special that it will always be with us for as long as we live. 

"Wandering in the chaos..." 
Chaos in and out of ourselves. We don't really know where we are or who we are any more. I realize, putting this down on paper, that readers who were not there will pity such evident exaggerations. But I can only try to convey and share what I was feeling. The input of data to my brain was a total overload. No way of rationally explain all of it. And thinking back of it I'm transported again against that front row barrier, shouting like a madman totally out of myself. And although I know that these will be different for every person there that night, millions of little details flash again in front of my eyes, and twice as many probably escape me... 

"A flower?"

The new flower mask frames Narcissus face (still a little dirty with Rael's make up). An incredible dance that can probably only be approximately described as a cross between an Irish jig and Monty Python's Ministry Of Silly Walks sketch. 

"All change!" 

And every expression on Peter's face changes in tune with the music and words. And we finally get to the Apocalypse. The "uncovering". The "revelation". Varilites bring on an atmosphere that Saint Peter's has been seriously studying to try and copy it on Judgement's Day: sudden lightning and flashes, smoke clouds and thundering music... 

"Six six sis is no longer alone" 

It's a revelation of all your innermost sensations. 

"I've been so far from here, far from your loving arms: now I'm back again..." 
I realize that I've been shouting at the top of my voice but not a single sound as come out of my throat. Peter's voice is broken, fractured. The sword/light of good triumphs over evil, and the neon reflected in Peter's eyes provokes visions of angels... Maybe the New Jerusalem, paradise, the place for peace by antonomasia is right here, in this lake of mud, were we are tired and wet to our marrows, and yet happy as clams at high tide, at peace with ourselves and the rest of the world. Nirvana. 

It's the beginning of the end... 
The six are back on stage to give us what we know and what we like. And when Steve arrives on stage to join the rest of the band, while Peter is tirelessly thanking everybody - organizers, promoters, musicians, audience... - adrenalin is being pumped once more from our kidneys to our brains! After the first time I saw them, I had never really enjoyed Phil's tambourine and audience routine... But there and then, the fully relaxed atmosphere, the feeling that we had lived through it all and survived helped me enjoying it to the core. Maybe because a little unexpected help came from Peter, who started "pushing" ("sledging", if you catch my drift...) Collins behind his back till about an inch off the edge of the stage... The stare he got back from Phil was priceless! 
Six, no, Seven Of The Best. 
A total far bigger than the sum of its parts. Something unique to that time and place. It's impossible to make any kind of comparison between that and "old" Genesis, between old and new, or Hackett or Gabriel solo careers... Utter nonsense. 

"It's your show!"
Everybody's show: the musicians and the managers, the technicians and the fans. It's Milton Keynes. And it's not over yet. 

"The kniiiiife!" 

The shortened version. As if, on such a night, they could have even thought of doing the full one! Rock, prog, whatever: call it what you want, it's something so special that this band is a "genre" of its own. And one of the most vivid details I still have burnt in my memory cells is Peter's final jump at the end of the song. 

But it ain't over yet. 
Once again, they all come back on stage, donning some funny and clownish red noses. Why? I don't have a clue, and I still wonder to this day why did they want to end the night in bloodshed: as it happens, they took the noses off and threw them to the crowd. And where they fell, sudden hills of people amassed on each other kicking and screaming, searching in complete darkness in a sea of mud for some small red plastic ball to carry home as a souvenir! 
The final words from Peter are "Good night! See you next time!". 

Whh... what? next where? next when?!?!?

Setlist

Back In NYC

Dancing With The Moonlit Knight/Carpet Crawlers

Firth Of Fifth

The Musical Box
Solsbury Hill
Turn It On Again
The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway
Broadway Melody Of '74
In The Cage
Supper's Ready

The Knife
I Know What I Like

Digging In The Dirt@Koln

Thanks to a much tighter Orchestra and a brilliant performance from Peter, this song has subtly but at the same time dramatically changed since its first appearance in March.

#4 - Torino, Palasport, 30.9.1980

Last day of three dates Italian tour, and besides the mess of the night before (for me, that is, it was spent with no sleep at all between the station and the police offices), the general mood was higher than ever: a funny episode happened while waiting for the show to begin which raised the spirits even more when some of the roadies pulled a trick on the audience by deciding to play a tape (no cds yet at the time...) of I Know What I Like... The Palasport almost exploded - like they were ready to witness or expect a miracle to happen any moment - but then reason prevailed and the roar soon changed into a giant chorus...

As in the two nights before, Peter introduced every song in Italian, reading from some "phonetically" prepared sheets. It marked the start of a long series of "corrections" that the audience usually shouted out loud and Peter dutifully acknowledged.

The gig itself was not the best of the three, as fatigue was by then quite evident on Peter's face, as this was one of the final dates of the world tour that had taken up much of the year for him. Nonetheless he didn't spare a drop of sweat, and the raw energy of the performance was once again staggering.

The best of it all came near the end: first, during Biko, a bunch of hotheads got sort of carried away and when Peter turned the microphone to the audience with the usual formula - «the rest is up to you» - they actually got hold of the microphone to start singing into it! The sound engineer quickly turned the mike off, but not before a couple of "oh-oh-oooohs" could be heard by everybody else...

And lastly, after DIY and On The Air the lights came up, and the usual outgoing music started to play. The band had already skipped And Through The Wire from the set, and evidently they thought they would just end it there.

But we did not want to hear about it: everybody went on clapping and shouting for more nonetheless, so that Peter was in a sense "forced" to come back on stage. When he did, with all the lights still on, he gave us an amazing version of Here Comes The Flood, and the image of him with wet eyes at his piano is still one of the strongest I bear in my memory.

Setlist

Intruder

The Start

I Don't Remember

Solsbury Hill

Family Snapshot

Milgram's 37

Modern Love

Not One Of Us

Lead A Normal Life

Moribund The Burgermeister

Mother Of Violence

Humdrum

Games Without Frontiers

I Go Swimming

Biko

On The Air

Here Comes The Flood

(This review was originally posted about 10 years ago on my old, old website. The original format is still available here)

#3 - Genova, Palasport, 29.9.1980

About Genova I still have mixed feelings. The show itself was brilliant, and I did manage the front row right in the center of the stage (just on the left of the few steps that were used by Peter and the band to get on stage during Intruder). The problem was the guy on my left, far more than just the average "pushy" neighbor at a gig: if you don't want personal details and bad language please skip the next paragraph...

During the encores the aforementioned worm decided to leave the show to mine and everybody else's in the area benefit and pleasure. Or so we thought. In fact, on his way out, he decided to collect all the front row guys' belongings: in other words he stole my jacket (including watch, money and wallet, the tape of the encores from the night before still in my jacket pockets, etc..). Even worse, they got my (borrowed!) tape recorder (with that night's show cassette - I was left holding the two microphones and only realized what had happened at end of the show!)... Well, that would not happen again today (even though two years later I got another tape recorder stolen, in a different way, at a Genesis gig...!), but that bastard, ass, re-bastard, son of a turd - he knows whom he is - will have my eternal hate. I wish him to be damned and burn not in hell's fire but in a very real and nasty car accident...

I told you, I told you, I told you - you should have skipped that.
Ok: back to the gig.

As I said, apart from the personal episode, the show was my favorite of the three: anguish and fun, experimenting and rocking, classics and new songs formed a mixture almost unbeatable to this day in the choice of the Setlist. This, of course, would be true for most of the 1980 tour, but what was special in Genoa was the feeling that was built between the stage and the audience: it's hard to explain, especially writing 20 years later and for somebody whose chances of having attended such an event are about 1 in a million...

There were no "remarkable" song performances of their own, yet the fluidity of the whole and the real moving of one's heart from one song to the next were unbelievable.

If I had to pick one song only then it would have to be Mother Of Violence. It certainly helped to make it shine out that I was actually standing right in front of Peter while he was singing - I'm talking 40 to 50 centimeters here! even though I refrained from clutching his knees all of the time like the girl on the other side of "the bastard"... Actually being able to see any performer's eyes at a rock concert is an experience not to be missed.

Once again, I have such fond memories of the show and such a hang up on what happened after that even though I managed to track a tape a few months later, it still rests unused in its box to this day.

Setlist

Intruder
The Start
I Don't Remember
Solsbury Hill
Family Snapshot
Milgram's 37
Modern Love
Not One Of Us
Lead A Normal Life
Moribund The Burgermeister
Mother Of Violence
Humdrum
Games Without Frontiers
And Through The Wire
I Go Swimming
Biko


On The Air
Here Comes The Flood 


(This review was originally posted about 10 years ago on my old, old website. The original format is still available here)

#2 - Firenze, Parco delle Cascine, 28.9.1980

Stirred by yesterday's reflections, here's some recycled stuff from way back, when I had just started the now defunct Intruder website... Here goes a review (written much, much later than the original show date, about 20 years) of my 2nd ever PG show, on its 30th anniversary.

This was only my second PG show ever, and I'd arrived in Florence the night before (spending the night with my sleeping bag behind a hidden wall of the Santa Maria Novella station). The wait began at about 10/11 o'clock in the morning under quite a hot sun. The gig was to take place in a field called Prato delle Cornacchie within the Parco delle Cascine - which I later learned was the most famous area for prostitution in town...!

Unfortunately, with a backpack and a couple bags of with water, sandwiches (not to mention a very large Marantz portable tape recorder with two separate microphones), somebody pushed me or I stumbled on a rock or something, and by the time I had stepped up again and made my run the first dozen rows were all taken... I kept telling me that the place I got was ok for taping and I knew I had two more days to come, but still something was biting my leg all the time.

Support act were the very young Simple Minds, which at the time - they had their third album out "Empires and dance" - were in really excellent shape. Unfortunately almost nobody knew who they were, and even less people had been informed of a support act at all: the result were boohoos and whistles and bottles thrown towards the stage that still make me blush with shame remembering it. I was one of the uninitiated, but Jim Kerr's magnetism and the hypnotic rhythm and cadence of "Capital City" cast a spell and I was "in love" for at least a decade afterwards...

Though it was only my second Gabriel show, I had by then started reading UK music magazines such as Melody Maker or NME every week, and corresponding with people all over the world: thus I already knew (or thought I knew) what was going to come. Of course, though, the feeling must have been quite different from the journey of discovery during the Uk February tour that same year!

Peter tried to begin walking from the audience as in the British theaters, but since the crowd was packed too tight and swaying madly, after about ten minutes (possibly one of the longest Intruder loops ever - together with Torino - but see below for a different story) he and the musicians gave up and simply walked on stage from the sides... I won't go into a song by song detailed review here (got an other 120 or so articles to write!) but after almost twenty years I still remember clearly three exceptionally impressive moments of that show.

First of all the crowd wouldn't hold still for the first 30-40 minutes or so, and since those at the front would not sit down those at the back kept throwing bottles, cans, bags and even sandwiches or whatever in front of them: on my tape, during Milgram's 37, one can actually hear a very clear "sdeng!" of a coke can hitting my head... I didn't utter a word fearing I'd spoil the tape, but it was useless 'cos of all the commotion from those around me searching for water and bandages to medicate me (there was no need to, luckily).

More to the point, musically, an absolutely amazing moment was the extended and improvised finale to Lead A Normal Life: the crowd just started clapping rhythmically (God knows why you should clap during a very quiet and fading piano riff, but there you have it: Italian audiences!!!). Peter and the rest of the band took up this rhythm and began jamming for a minute or two, while Jerry Marotta kept Moribund's beat and they all went into that song.

Finally, a really brilliant version of I go Swimming: maybe because at the time it was an almost completely unheard of song, but that early arrangement and the shouted out loud "gabrielese" was so full of energy that it remains to this day one of my favorite executions ever (1982/3 versions were much too lame and subdued in comparison), together with the one from two days later (which you'll find on these pages in due time...).

Setlist

Intruder
The Start
I Don't Remember
Solsbury Hill
Family Snapshot
Milgram's 37
Modern Love
Not One Of Us
Lead A Normal Life
Moribund The Burgermeister
Mother Of Violence
Humdrum
Games Without Frontiers
And Through The Wire
I Go Swimming


Biko
Here Comes The Flood

(This review was originally posted about 10 years ago on my old, old website. The original format is still available here)

#171 - Verona, Arena, 26.9.2010

Exactly 30 years ago today, Peter arrived in Italy for his first ever solo tour in our country. The first show on the 28th of September (followed by Genova and Torino), was in fact preceded by a tv appearance on a Saturday Night tv program - La Gondola d'Oro. If I'm not mistaken, the event took place on the stage of the Venice Casino, and he mimed "Games Without Frontiers" (his then 'current' single) using a weird sort of 'deforming lens': in fact, it was one of those magnifying screens which used to be sold in mail order catalogues with the promise of "enlarging your tv screen to cinema proportions"... Not totally dissimilar from the X-Ray vision glasses that would let you see under women's clothes, or even today's spammers promise of enlargement pills for a very different goal...!


That said, Peter's use of the screen and having his features completely deformed had an obvious point of reference in the old Genesis days idea of accompanying a performance through visuals, very often accomplished through the use of costumes and masks. On par with his 3rd album turnaround, together with the sounds, the 'mask' had turned technological as well.


Last night in Verona was indeed something very different, but at the same time, on reflection, what could probably be defined as 'closure', the final step in a road taken for the very first time all those years ago.
A touch of eyeliner (*), as usual, to enhance his gaze for the cameras (as the whole show was filmed), was all that remained of the masks and costumes, and even the elaborate set-ups used for the Secret World and Growing Up tours. The (hyper-tech) visuals, on the other hand, were not the centerpiece any more, but worked as a surrounding: magnificent as always, but confined to the back, the top and the sides. Not forgetting the orchestra, of course, which makes itself for a great visual experience.


But this time around Peter was at the front. Alone. Not even the comfort of a piano/synth to stand (hide) behind. In my very personal view and opinion, this always gave an added dimension to Peter's performances (Not that it happened often or was thought out on such a large scale). Technicalities disappear, or at least shift to the background. Gestures are still important and emphasize the performance here and there. But they too have lost a lot of their "importance", the foreground role they sometimes (often) had in the past.


Of course, as with nearly every concert, sound and vision are still very much two sides of the same coin, and it's the total sum of both parts that stays in the eyes and in the ears of the audience. After all, I have always believed that PG's live "experience" succeeds exactly in bringing this synergy to levels 99,99% of the other bands will never even dream about.
Well, this time around, his voice has become an unfettered, self-sufficient medium. To me that was, no, THAT IS the main appeal of Scratch My Back, but I honestly had no idea that it would work so well on stage. The London shows in march did convince me it could be done, but they were nearly "too perfect", and it was only in Verona that the proof was there for everyone who wanted to hear: from whispers to shouts, from barely reached notes to ripping cries, it felt like being at the feet of an erupting volcano, waiting anxiously for the emotional lava to pour down all over me.


I "saw" part of the show through the display of my small camera, and the quickly advancing presbyopia actually helped me "unfocus" the visual side almost completely. I was holding the camera but not looking at it... And I was surprised to find out that it did not matter one iota! Also, though we were sure lucky in getting the fullest setlist on the tour until now, in a sense, even songs didn't matter: I can't single out one, either in a positive or a negative sense. Anger and fear, despair and lightheadedness, sheer happiness and love: they all came through as immensely dense flows of emotion.


The overall effect of the show was to bring back so many memories, impressions, even proper flashbacks... In 30 years of travelling around seeing PGPL, I have lost count of the number of people I met, befriended ("liked" in this facebook age), travelled with for a few days or weeks, saw again once or hundreds of times. Some I still hear semi-regularly, others I have lost touch with. But especially in Italy, going back to the beginning of this post, I was suddenly overwhelmed by all the different kind of people and relationships I have gone through thanks to PG. Shaking hands, saying hello to faces I distantly remember but can't exactly place, embracing casual friends whom I shared hours of queues with or wondering why that one person did not show up and god knows hiw he is doing... Wether we made together one show or a hundred, as I think I made clear earlier on, it's all a matter of emotions. Given, received, exchanged. No need for naming any names, as the end of this long and winded post was simply to say this:

Thanks to anyone and everyone I have met and hopefully will meet next on the road. It has made the last 30+ years of my life so much fuller and happier!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(*) Actually, reading Dickie Chappell's Tour Diary, I found out that the make up session lasted so long that the show was delayed (for nearly half an hour!!!) because of it. If it was indeed so, must say I guess nobody in the Arena really noticed... We'll have to wait for the dvd to find out ;-)

Setlist


Heroes
The Boy In The Bubble
Mirrorball
Flume
Listening Wind
The Power Of The Heart
My Body Is A Cage
The Book Of Love
I Think It's Going To Rain Today
Après Moi (Le Deluge)
Philadelphia
Street Spirit (Fade Out)
Wallflower

San Jacinto
Digging In The Dirt
The Drop
Signal To Noise
Downside Up
Mercy Street
The Rhythm Of The Heat
Blood Of Eden
Intruder
Red Rain
Washing Of The Water
Darkness
Solsbury Hill

In Your Eyes
Don't Give Up
The Nest That Sailed The Sky