Richard Hawley Review

Excitement! I went through to Manchester last week to see Mr Richard Hawley at the Bridgewater Hall; alone, unfortunately, due to MrsW succumbing to the ague, or was it croup?

Anyway, she wasn't at all well, certainly not well enough for driving duties, so I was forced to travel through to Manchester alone; on the train; to the BIG CITY.


I booked a last minute room online at the Jury's Inn just around the corner from the hall and I arrived to find the entire area covered in traffic cones and crawling with police and the enevitable security dressed in obligatory High Visibility Tabards. The reason for this high level of security was something to do with "Call Me Dave" Cameron's mob’s annual blue-rinse rally at the GMEX opposite. I knew I should have taken my grenade launcher.


Having checked into my room and had a cup of tea (rock and roll!), I made my way round to the Bridgewater and hung around in the lobby waiting for Elbow Room Only's very own "nellie" and her other half. MrsW had arranged for me to pick up some binoculars that nellie had borrowed on a previous occasion.


I have to say, it was good bumping into some fellow forum members again, and this made for a more enjoyable evening for me, being on my own and all that. Thanks to both of them for indulging my propensity to rattle on and for meeting up at the interval for drinks.

Unfortunately, the gig wasn’t quite a sell-out and I couldn’t return my spare ticket to the box office. Market forces being what they are, there didn’t appear to be any touts outside either: I don’t know whether it was the fact that the night wasn’t a total sell-out or whether it was the heavy police presence or what, but the usual scally touts were nowhere to be seen.

So I was stuck with an unused ticket, sadly!


Anyway. The support act were a group called the Smoke Fairies who I'd never heard of. Basically they consisted of two indie-folk lasses playing guitar and harmonising in a very fey fashion backed up by a tall hippy violinist and a minimalist drummer: His contributions to some songs amounted to little more than the odd muted flourish and he could have easily spent large portions of their set reading a book or enjoying a cup of tea or something. They were listenable enough, although I doubt whether I'll ever buy anything by them. Not really my thing.


As for Richard Hawley, the concert was primarily a showcase for the beautiful gloom of his new album, Truelove's Gutter. Having acquired the album a couple of days previously I was familiar enough with the work to appreciate it. I'm glad I wasn't expecting a "greatest hits" package otherwise I would have been disappointed. As it happens, he did play plenty of old faves in the end, though not any of the obvious "hits".


Here's the setlist for the evening:


As The Dawn Breaks (Truelove's Gutter)
Ashes On The Fire (Truelove's Gutter)
Lady Solitude (Lady's Bridge)
Hotel Room (Cole's Corner)
Soldier On (Truelove's Gutter)
Happy Birthday (to John Trier)
The Sea Calls (Lady's Bridge)
Tonight (Cole's Corner)
Open Up Your Door (Truelove's Gutter)
For Your Lover Give Some Time (Truelove's Gutter)
Remorse Code (Truelove's Gutter)
Run For Me (Lowedges)
Don't You Cry (Truelove's Gutter)
---------------------------------
Don't Get Hung Up In Your Soul (Truelove's Gutter)
The Ocean(Cole's Corner)


A fantastic set, punctuated by Mr Hawley's usual acerbic, dry wit and foul mouth; very much at odds with his 50's throwback crooner persona.


Personal highlight for me was Don't Get Hung Up In Your Soul, featuring the very wonderful multi-instrumentalist David Coulter on eerie bowed saw.


I particularly admired his good-natured put-downs of one particularly enthusiastic female heckler. One exchange went thus:


Loud Woman: "I NEED to dance!"

Richard Hawley: "Well f**king dance then!"


Well, it made me laugh.


All in all, an amazing concert in an acoustically perfect Bridgewater Hall. And I bought some quite wonderful Henderson's Relish from the merchandise table. I'll be putting a dash in practically everything for several months otherwise I'll never be rid of the stuff. Think Worcestershire sauce, but less piquant.