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Marillion - Wolverhampton Civic Hall 30th June 2004
Setlist: Set 1: Marbles Live: The Invisible Man / Marbles I / You're Gone / Angelina / Marbles II / Don't Hurt Yourself / Fantastic Place / Marbles III / The Damage / Marbles IV / Neverland Set 2: Old Stuff : This is the 21st Century / Quartz / Bridge / Living with the Big Lie / The Party / Between You and Me // Estonia / The Uninvited Guest / Cover My Eyes /// Easter
Marmite. Marillion. They’re the same you see. Marmite, you either love it, or hate it. Marillion affects people the same way. There is no middle ground and no room for discussion on the subject. I know about this, because I’ve stood on both sides of the fence.
Marmite. Marillion. They’re the same you see. Marmite, you either love it, or hate it. Marillion affects people the same way. There is no middle ground and no room for discussion on the subject. I know about this, because I’ve stood on both sides of the fence.
In the early days, I was a big Marillion fan. I bought all the 12” singles and the first three albums, even saw them a few times (including the, now legendary, Reading Festival appearance.) Then, I started to feel that some of the lyrics just didn’t do it for me anymore; there is no place in rock music for dilly-dillys and sugar mice, especially when they dribbled out of the mouth of a large, drunken, belligerent, balding Scotsman who dressed as though he had just come out of Rupert Bear’s closet. To me, being a Marillion fan had become a bit of an embarrassment.
By the time Steve Hogarth joined the band, I had a wife, one young daughter with another on the way, no money and little interest in popular music. I remember hearing Easter, possibly on TOTP, and thought that it sounded quite good. At least they no longer had a rampant case of the dilly-dillys. Sadly, at that point, Marillion completely disappeared from my radar screen.
By the time Steve Hogarth joined the band, I had a wife, one young daughter with another on the way, no money and little interest in popular music. I remember hearing Easter, possibly on TOTP, and thought that it sounded quite good. At least they no longer had a rampant case of the dilly-dillys. Sadly, at that point, Marillion completely disappeared from my radar screen.
Fast forward to 2002, I started to write a novel. I rooted through a load of tapes for something to listen to and came across a recording I’d taped off the radio some ten years earlier, but never listened to. It was Marillion, Wembley, from the Holidays in Eden tour. For the next three months, I played that tape constantly (and I mean, constantly) as I wrote. From June through August that year, I listened to almost nothing else, save for a Nutz compilation CD I’d made from the albums (unaware of the connection between the two bands) which was the only thing that stopped my wife from stabbing me between my shoulder blades.
Once I’d finished writing my book, I went out a bought a copy of Season’s End. What a bloody fine recording that is! Mooching through a record store in Liverpool, waiting for my daughter to finish her university interview, I came across Made Again. It cost less than a tenner for a double live CD so, I reasoned, even if I hated all the stuff I didn’t know, which was most of it, it was no big deal. No worries there. In the last two years, Made Again has been in the CD player so much, it is practically fused to the tray.
Then I met Keith. He introduced me to the post-Fish era Marillion in all its considerable entirety. To him, I send out my thanks; he showed me that Marillion is worth fighting for. Without him, I would never have discovered what I had been missing for so long.
Once I’d finished writing my book, I went out a bought a copy of Season’s End. What a bloody fine recording that is! Mooching through a record store in Liverpool, waiting for my daughter to finish her university interview, I came across Made Again. It cost less than a tenner for a double live CD so, I reasoned, even if I hated all the stuff I didn’t know, which was most of it, it was no big deal. No worries there. In the last two years, Made Again has been in the CD player so much, it is practically fused to the tray.
Then I met Keith. He introduced me to the post-Fish era Marillion in all its considerable entirety. To him, I send out my thanks; he showed me that Marillion is worth fighting for. Without him, I would never have discovered what I had been missing for so long.
It had been very much of a last-minute decision to catch Marillion live. I had wanted to see them for quite a while but, when tickets originally went on sale, I was out of work and couldn’t afford them. Now, I’m gainfully employed, but so busy that I have to ruthlessly pick and choose the gigs I go to.
Nevertheless, Wolverhampton Civic Hall is probably the best venue in the country right now and there is something about the place that lifts the performance just that little bit above the norm. Black Country audiences are great and I love a night out in Wolverhampton and Dudley; JB’s and The Robin are good, but the Civic Hall is my favourite. Everything about it is spot on; the staff are friendly and don’t hassle you; the cheap, convenient parking; the beer’s not too expensive; you can get close to the stage without the fear of being crushed; the sound is good; I always take some great photographs there; and most importantly, the locals love their live rock music and enjoy showing their appreciation. You are virtually guaranteed, at the worst, a good gig.
Nevertheless, Wolverhampton Civic Hall is probably the best venue in the country right now and there is something about the place that lifts the performance just that little bit above the norm. Black Country audiences are great and I love a night out in Wolverhampton and Dudley; JB’s and The Robin are good, but the Civic Hall is my favourite. Everything about it is spot on; the staff are friendly and don’t hassle you; the cheap, convenient parking; the beer’s not too expensive; you can get close to the stage without the fear of being crushed; the sound is good; I always take some great photographs there; and most importantly, the locals love their live rock music and enjoy showing their appreciation. You are virtually guaranteed, at the worst, a good gig.
So, last Wednesday, for the first time since 1985, I found myself standing outside a concert hall, brandishing a Marillion ticket. I really had no idea what to expect; the last time I saw Marillion it was a different band and half a lifetime ago.
As I made my way into the hall, the lights went down and the band took to the stage. A large video screen across the back of the stage burst into life; I certainly hadn’t expected anything on this scale.
Now, I had deliberately avoided looking at marillion.com so that the setlist would be a complete surprise. I’d figured they would do some of the Marbles CD and was not surprised when they opened with an excellent version of The Invisible Man. It really was awesome and, as the set progressed, it became apparent that they were actually going to play Marbles in its single CD entirety - a brave thing to do. The standing ovation after You’re Gone seemed to go on forever and the band were noticeably taken aback, visibly moved by the reception they received. From that point on, the night just became something magical. The repartee flowing back and forth between H and the audience left you feeling as if this was an intimate gathering for a few [thousand] close friends, just playing songs and having a beer and a laugh together. Which, indeed, it was.
The enthusiastic reception of the live performance of the Marbles material proved how strong the new songs are and, had the evening ended right after Neverland, I don’t think anyone would have left feeling that they had been short-changed. But, that was not the case. H announced that they were ‘going to go off for a couple of minutes... and then come back and play ninety minutes of stuff that they had not just written.’ And that is exactly what they did.
As I made my way into the hall, the lights went down and the band took to the stage. A large video screen across the back of the stage burst into life; I certainly hadn’t expected anything on this scale.
Now, I had deliberately avoided looking at marillion.com so that the setlist would be a complete surprise. I’d figured they would do some of the Marbles CD and was not surprised when they opened with an excellent version of The Invisible Man. It really was awesome and, as the set progressed, it became apparent that they were actually going to play Marbles in its single CD entirety - a brave thing to do. The standing ovation after You’re Gone seemed to go on forever and the band were noticeably taken aback, visibly moved by the reception they received. From that point on, the night just became something magical. The repartee flowing back and forth between H and the audience left you feeling as if this was an intimate gathering for a few [thousand] close friends, just playing songs and having a beer and a laugh together. Which, indeed, it was.
The enthusiastic reception of the live performance of the Marbles material proved how strong the new songs are and, had the evening ended right after Neverland, I don’t think anyone would have left feeling that they had been short-changed. But, that was not the case. H announced that they were ‘going to go off for a couple of minutes... and then come back and play ninety minutes of stuff that they had not just written.’ And that is exactly what they did.
What can you say about the second set? None of the songs needs any introductions. From the beginning of This Is The 21st Century, through Quartz, Bridge and Living With The Big Lie, the intensity continued to grow. When H took his place at his keyboard and began to tootle around with the intro to The Party, I don’t think I was the only one in danger of spontaneously combusting, judging from the volume of the singing around me. By the end of Between You And Me, everyone was hot, sweaty and very happy. We all knew that we had witnessed an utterly stunning, faultless performance of some great pieces of music. But, there was still more to come.
As they left the stage, having already played for two hours, the cheering and chanting never stopped, even for a single second. In fact, it grew louder as they regained the stage for the encores, beginning with a moving version of the gorgeous Estonia. The next song The Uninvited Guest, was, probably the highlight of the evening for me. I sang myself hoarse during that and Cover My Eyes, which featured H clambering up the PA stack to serenade the contingent in the balcony. Someone near to me observed that they hadn’t seen him do that in many years. I suspected that he was checking the damage to the roof for the inevitable insurance claim, which had definitely been lifted off minutes before. The applause was deafening as the band, once again, left the stage, only to return for one final encore, Easter. This time we knew that was our lot and no-one could possibly have expected more. We left, drained, but ecstatic.
As they left the stage, having already played for two hours, the cheering and chanting never stopped, even for a single second. In fact, it grew louder as they regained the stage for the encores, beginning with a moving version of the gorgeous Estonia. The next song The Uninvited Guest, was, probably the highlight of the evening for me. I sang myself hoarse during that and Cover My Eyes, which featured H clambering up the PA stack to serenade the contingent in the balcony. Someone near to me observed that they hadn’t seen him do that in many years. I suspected that he was checking the damage to the roof for the inevitable insurance claim, which had definitely been lifted off minutes before. The applause was deafening as the band, once again, left the stage, only to return for one final encore, Easter. This time we knew that was our lot and no-one could possibly have expected more. We left, drained, but ecstatic.
What can you say about the second set? None of the songs needs any introductions. From the beginning of This Is The 21st Century, through Quartz, Bridge and Living With The Big Lie, the intensity continued to grow. When H took his place at his keyboard and began to tootle around with the intro to The Party, I don’t think I was the only one in danger of spontaneously combusting, judging from the volume of the singing around me. By the end of Between You And Me, everyone was hot, sweaty and very happy. We all knew that we had witnessed an utterly stunning, faultless performance of some great pieces of music. But, there was still more to come.
As they left the stage, having already played for two hours, the cheering and chanting never stopped, even for a single second. In fact, it grew louder as they regained the stage for the encores, beginning with a moving version of the gorgeous Estonia. The next song The Uninvited Guest, was, probably the highlight of the evening for me. I sang myself hoarse during that and Cover My Eyes, which featured H clambering up the PA stack to serenade the contingent in the balcony. Someone near to me observed that they hadn’t seen him do that in many years. I suspected that he was checking the damage to the roof for the inevitable insurance claim, which had definitely been lifted off minutes before. The applause was deafening as the band, once again, left the stage, only to return for one final encore, Easter. This time we knew that was our lot and no-one could possibly have expected more. We left, drained, but ecstatic.
As they left the stage, having already played for two hours, the cheering and chanting never stopped, even for a single second. In fact, it grew louder as they regained the stage for the encores, beginning with a moving version of the gorgeous Estonia. The next song The Uninvited Guest, was, probably the highlight of the evening for me. I sang myself hoarse during that and Cover My Eyes, which featured H clambering up the PA stack to serenade the contingent in the balcony. Someone near to me observed that they hadn’t seen him do that in many years. I suspected that he was checking the damage to the roof for the inevitable insurance claim, which had definitely been lifted off minutes before. The applause was deafening as the band, once again, left the stage, only to return for one final encore, Easter. This time we knew that was our lot and no-one could possibly have expected more. We left, drained, but ecstatic.
A gig is an organic thing and I have been to a lot of bad gigs; I’ve walked out of some in complete disgust. Audiences are quick to communicate, in no uncertain terms, their feelings about a performance. Conversely, if the band plays well, the audience lets them know how much they appreciate it. One hand washes the other; the louder the applause, the better the performance; the better the performance, the louder the applause. In addition to the really bad concerts, I have been privileged to attend a number, which I consider to have been extraordinary. At each one of these, the artists all gave that little bit more because the audience spurred them on. I believe that is what happened on Wednesday in Wolverhampton. It was an exceptional night and one of the most amazing performances I have ever witnessed from a rock band.
These musicians are of the highest calibre and have played together for so long that they are as tight as any band I can think of. Individually, each is a fine musician in his own right. Steve Rothery’s guitar working ranges from merely brilliant to making you want to cry. Some of his phrasing is just sublime and actually makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Pete Trewavas, Ian Moseley and Mark Kelly provide depth, atmosphere and a solid rhythm section, moving the music along with precision and finesse. Steve Hogarth on vocals, guitar, keyboards, assorted percussion, PA climbing and, er, cricket bat, is also a very personable, charismatic and compelling frontman and focal point for the band. His cheeky antics delight the crowd and you are never in any doubt that he’s having a fun time. He also happens to be a bloody good singer, able to deliver a fine live vocal with power and emotion.
Yet, surprisingly, there are no egos on parade here. These are not people who are doing it for the money; they are doing it because they want to say ‘Thank You’ to all of their uncommonly loyal and devoted fans for their faith, their generosity, and their dedication to the cause. And what an expression of gratitude they delivered in Wolverhampton. I’m just glad I was there to witness it and be a part of it. I don’t know how it rates as Marillion gigs go these days; maybe they’re that damn good every night. If they are, they should wear their underpants outside their trousers, because they’re superhuman. I shall find out, one way or the other in Leeds, next week.
These musicians are of the highest calibre and have played together for so long that they are as tight as any band I can think of. Individually, each is a fine musician in his own right. Steve Rothery’s guitar working ranges from merely brilliant to making you want to cry. Some of his phrasing is just sublime and actually makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Pete Trewavas, Ian Moseley and Mark Kelly provide depth, atmosphere and a solid rhythm section, moving the music along with precision and finesse. Steve Hogarth on vocals, guitar, keyboards, assorted percussion, PA climbing and, er, cricket bat, is also a very personable, charismatic and compelling frontman and focal point for the band. His cheeky antics delight the crowd and you are never in any doubt that he’s having a fun time. He also happens to be a bloody good singer, able to deliver a fine live vocal with power and emotion.
Yet, surprisingly, there are no egos on parade here. These are not people who are doing it for the money; they are doing it because they want to say ‘Thank You’ to all of their uncommonly loyal and devoted fans for their faith, their generosity, and their dedication to the cause. And what an expression of gratitude they delivered in Wolverhampton. I’m just glad I was there to witness it and be a part of it. I don’t know how it rates as Marillion gigs go these days; maybe they’re that damn good every night. If they are, they should wear their underpants outside their trousers, because they’re superhuman. I shall find out, one way or the other in Leeds, next week.
The Marillion machine is unconventional in almost every way. They openly ask their fans to contribute financially to the recording of a new CD, with nothing more in return than a copy of the finished CD. They ask their followers to buy the single, their reward being to see it in the Top 10. Devotees have even financed an entire US tour, for heaven’s sake! This band thrives because of its relationship with its fanbase, the bond between them so strong that other groups could only dream of its existence. Fans love this band, their band. On Wednesday, some of that love was returned, with interest.
Marmite. Marillion. Now, do you see what I mean? I hate Marmite, but I love Marillion.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
July 2nd 2004
Marmite. Marillion. Now, do you see what I mean? I hate Marmite, but I love Marillion.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
July 2nd 2004
About the photos...
Pete grabs a crafty look at the setlist
Now, I do really like some of these... I hate to admit it, but some of these are damn good! Then again, it was Wolverhampton Civic Hall... great venue for getting good shots.
Anyone from Fuji reading this... I really like your cameras and a new S7000 wouldn't go amiss (hint, hint)
So, enjoy these, it was an unbelievable night and it's all here...
Anyone from Fuji reading this... I really like your cameras and a new S7000 wouldn't go amiss (hint, hint)
So, enjoy these, it was an unbelievable night and it's all here...
July 2009
Er, Fuji people, I just bought an S100FS to replace the S7000 but, if you'd like to ship me one of your fine DSLRs, that would be nice :-)
