Thirty years ago I was given the opportunity to write my first ever gig review. THE ICICLE WORKS were due to play their debut gig at Brady’s in Liverpool, the venue that was once the beloved Eric’s. The band’s first demo duly landed on my lap, its arrival being a little more prosaic than I had anticipated. Radio Merseyside’s Phil Ross received his copy from someone dressed as a spaceman, complete with helmet. It soon became clear from those early demos and the self-released tape Ascending, that The Icicle Works were brimming with potential. Songs such as A Cure For Something and When Winter Lasted Forever displayed a rare lyrical eloquence and pop sensibility. That first gig was fine, despite a ropey version of Dobie Gray’s The In-Crowd with bass player Chris Layhe on vocals. But the band was soon to become very special indeed.
The Masonic was a small pub in Liverpool’s Berry Street; it was a sort of halfway house for future legends. The night I saw The Icicle Works there, the Toxteth riots were in full flow about a mile away and Iggy Pop was fleeing from his gig at The Royal Court in fear of his safety. Meanwhile The Masonic was an explosion of light, colour and sound of a different kind, that night they exuded an intensity rarely seen. The man that John Peel was to call ‘The midfield general’ Ian McNabb exuding a starry eyed mysticism, 16 years old drummer Chris Sharrock - Moon-esque maniacal with a flailing armed flamboyance and Chris Layhe anchoring the starship.
Rather than conform, The Icicle Works were always contrary sods, unafraid to display hippyish tendencies, all tie-dye and fringe jackets and beads, when all around were skinny jeans and floppy fringes. Espousing Neil Young ten years before the grunge bands made listening to him de-rigueur. Wherever the opposite of the zeitgeist was, you would find The Icicle Works there, convinced that they were right and laughing behind everyone else’s back. Within two years they were on Top Of the Pops with the single Love Is A Wonderful Colour.
Thirty years on and it’s The Icicle Works five yearly reunion – except it’s not a real reunion, the two Chris’ are elsewhere, but McNabb pays generous tribute to them at the end of the night. Layhe’s place is taken by McNabb’s long term side kick Roy Corkhill, the drum stool is occupied by Dodgy’s Matthew Priest, just about the only drummer that could do justice to Sharrock’s legacy and keyboard player is the amazing Richard Naiff, who seems imbued with the spirit of Ian McLagan.
|
From the opening bars of When It All Comes Down, the sizeable crowd are with them, by the time the euphoric chorus arrives there were no prisoners left to be taken. McNabb is in full-on Neil Young mode, hunched over his Les Paul, sunglasses slipping down his nose. The first patch of sweat appears on his jacket, by the end of the encore, it was several shades darker than at the beginning. “We’re going to get the fast ones out of the way first.” He announces, “We’re getting old and slow down much quicker.”
Very early songs appear such as A Factory in the Desert, Priest excelling here, In The Cauldron Of Love sees McNabb,’s arms windmilling Townshend-like as the pace gets more frantic. Hollow Horse with its Byrds like intro and early statement of intent: “We’ll be as we are when all the fools who doubt us fade away.” Rapids remains just as trenchant critique of the media as the day it was written: “I sing this song with my tongue in my cheek, For the jilted, the jaundiced, the angry young men, Who somehow believe that the status quo changes With juvenile slogans in downmarket rags.”
Blind is notable for some virtuoso keyboards from Naiff. “It’s harder to come clean than to deceive.” Melanie Still Hurts, a wistful drive down loves motorway, acknowledging the lay –bys en route. Of course, Love Is A Wonderful Colour and Birds Fly (Whisper To A Scream) are greeted like long lost friends. It has been a joyous hour two and a half trawl through an unassailable back catalogue, it’s easy to forget that this is only the opening salvo of a career that is still flying creatively and McNabb’s subsequent oeuvre is just as impressive. For now though, we are just lost in the moment.
Some things take forever, some things are worth more than nostalgia, some things are worth more that music even. Then there are nights like this, when you are just grateful you were there.
Ian MacNabb/ Icicle Works website
|
