Magic

Had you been fortunate enough to have spent Saturday night (7th December) at the delightful Norwich Arts Centre you'd have witnessed the gathering of a slightly older generation of music types. More to the point of this post, I'm delighted to report that The Norwich Arts Centre is where I had chosen to spend my evening.

The attraction, on this occasion, was The Magic Band- that of Captain Beefheart fame, no less! Sadly The Captain is no longer with us, having succumbed to MS some three years ago. Entirely given to that of a somewhat complex persona during his performing years it is most unlikely that he would have put in an appearance, even if he'd been a spectacle of perfect health. The recorded history of the band leaves us in little doubt that he was not a man with whom to trifle over musical differences of opinion. But, boy, was he a producer and performer of edgy music.



Perfect, from Sundaram Ramaswamy

At the Arts Centre, as many of the man's loyal following gathered, words like 'gig' were once again heard to be uttered, coffees instead of beers were seen to accompany many of the punters into the hall; no pushing to the front, many of us were simply grateful to find a patch of floor upon which to sit and wait. Many in the crowd were older than your's truly, the prospect of all present standing throughout the concert had seemed a touch daunting at the outset.

I should never have doubted my own stamina; the mere sight of Rockette Morton, Denny Reebo Feelers Walley and John Drumbo French striding onto the stage was enough to transport me back three decades. Sadly no Zoot Horn Rollo on this occasion.

For those unfamiliar with the music of Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band any amount of wordy explanation  could only fail entirely to convey even the merest essence of their unique style. Those lurching asymmetrical rhythms, the surreal poetry of numbers like 'Golden Birdies,' where on earth could one even start?



Many thanks to the creative brx0

In the absence of the band leader, the gravel-throated John Drumbo French had stepped to the fore, voice resonating up through the floor, from whence it seemed to gather force in the gut, partying with Morton's driving bass lines.

Excepting the notable error of permitting a short drum solo to start the second set- I find that they're never quite short enough- Beefheart aficionados could not fail to have been thoroughly delighted. Worth the ticket price just to listen to Denny Walley bending the hell out of those immense slide guitar notes.

For those familiar with the music: 'Sun Zoom Spark,' 'Moonlight on Vermont,' 'When it Blows it Stacks,' 'Alice in Blunderland,' 'Click Clack' and the immense once-heard-never-forgotten 'Big Eyed Beans From Venus' might have even impressed The Captain.

Well, if not unreservedly The Captain, they certainly kept me and a happy gathering of like-mindeds fully wired.