Fish Stokes the Nostalgia Furnace and Warms Up a Half-Empty Hall

Location: Bologna / Estragon / Italy
Date: Saturday, 01.12.2007

While more than half the population of our ever-less-green little country on the sunny side of the Alps was busy buying up the latest copies of the newspaper Delo, just because they came with a freebie, the hottest music item in our wonderful nation right now (Magnifico’s new album, that is), the three of us, hopeless ignoramuses and outcasts when it comes to Slovenian charts and social trends, set off for the heart of Bologna to catch one of the biggest prog rock events to happen across our western border lately. The Italians were honored with a visit from the legendary Fish, still best known as the former singer of the cult (neo) prog rock band Marillion, with whom he scored the biggest commercial successes of his career. Despite flatly refusing to hear a word about a possible reunion, he has stayed on good terms with them. Despite the long shadow of his old band, Fish has been a solo artist for nineteen years, an established and respected figure in the prog world, who has released a string of solid to very good albums in that time, with connoisseurs singling out his debut “Vigil In a Wilderness Of Mirrors” (1989), “Sunsets On Empire” (1996) and his latest, “13th Star” (2007), as the best.

On this tour, though, the expected showcase of a big chunk of the new record played second fiddle to material from the classic Marillion album “Clutching At Straws” (1987), which was also his last with the band. It turned 20 this year. After last year’s unforgettable encounter with the legendary Highlander in Augsburg, where he played the entire Marillion classic “Misplaced Childhood” (1985) live, along with a few more Marillion hits and some of his solo stuff, this was our second Fish show. To be honest, I didn’t for a second expect this one to match or even top the Augsburg gig, but I did expect, and with good reason, a great rendition of some Marillion classics, a theatrical stage show and the kind of atmosphere that only this immensely charismatic performer can deliver, one of the few capable of combining two completely opposite faces, the clown and the martyr, in a single stage act.

We finally headed into the half-empty Estragon hall a little after ten (we were last there in April for Marillion). The “souvenir” prices were, as usual, ridiculously inflated. For a limited edition of Fish’s solo album, for instance, the swindlers wanted a whole 28 euros, which was really way too much. Opening this time were the modern Italian symphonic prog rock revivalists The Watch, who turned out to be a pretty decent pick, though (for demanding prog gourmets) not exactly the most original. Still, they were a real balm for the ears compared to last year, when Fish’s blessing brought us some young British singer-songwriter who, apart from her undeniable visual charms, offered absolutely nothing worth mentioning musically with her “wailing”. The Watch, who are under the more-than-obvious influence of Peter Gabriel-era Genesis (in my view they could easily pass as a very solid Genesis tribute band), delivered solid symphonic prog rock with an almost authentic 70s keyboard sound and a shamelessly similar stage setup to what Genesis had in their prime.

They mostly played material from their current album “Primitive” (2007). The legendary keyboard sound of the original Tony Banks school, the one most prog rock connoisseurs still cherish above all, owed a lot to the fact that, to my great surprise, their gear included an antediluvian Mellotron, something that’s getting harder and harder to spot even at prog rock shows these days. Keyboardist Fabio Mancini proved it wasn’t standing there just for decoration, but that he really knows how to play it. Singer Simone Rossetti, who looked suspiciously like a young Gabriel, not just because of the poetic timbre of his voice but also thanks to his skin-tight black outfit and bell-bottom trousers, showed an enviable command of English for an Italian, though he’ll still have to work on his vocal range. And, despite a few attempts in that direction, he was of course far from the charisma and theatricality of his great idol. Guitarist Ettore Salati was also a bit too blatantly aping Steve Hackett’s stage approach, sitting on a stool the whole show. Stylistically, too, his guitar work couldn’t do without Hackett’s trademark tapping and the soft, classical lines of individual passages.

In terms of uniqueness, bassist Marco Schembri stood out most, as his use of a Stick wrecked their audio-visual image as some kind of Italian Genesis, since he didn’t resemble Mike Rutherford in the slightest. Although it’s always nice to see someone besides Tony Levin (King Crimson, Peter Gabriel) and Trey Gunn (UKZ, ex-King Crimson) playing this demanding stringed instrument, it was there, given that Schembri didn’t show anything all that special on it, more for the sake of an unusual instrumental quirk, or simply so they couldn’t be accused of criminally copying Genesis. Drummer Roberto Leoni was likewise more than obviously inspired by Collins’s drumming technique, though he’ll have to eat a lot more porridge before he gets anywhere near that level. Their set flew by quickly, with no encore, and in the end they earned my applause too, which doesn’t happen very often with support acts. I can say The Watch proved to be real pros and warmed us up well for Fish, even if their approach amounts to little more than good imitators of Gabriel’s Genesis.

Fish announced his traditionally theatrical show with a variety of stage projections. So before his band came onstage, we got to watch a countdown of the years since the release of “Clutching At Straws” (1987) all the way to 2007. Dominating it were parodies of some of the fan questions Fish has been facing for years, like the one about a Marillion reunion and his (non-)performing of the cult 20-minute Marillion epic “Grendel” (originally from their first EP “Market Square Heroes”, 1982). Alongside old footage of Fish with Marillion, the most important world events of those years rolled by, each with a pretty juicy comment underneath. The other big gag of the night was the DJ spinning the Beatles classic “Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band” just as Fish’s bandmates were already onstage, which was surely planned. The clowning stopped the instant a towering figure marched onstage with authority, as usual draped in a keffiyeh, and took the center spot. There stood a friendly, grinning giant who, true pro that he is, wasn’t fazed in the slightest by the shamelessly yawning emptiness of the hall, and even seemed to be enjoying it, delivering a show as energetic as you’d expect from a stage presence of his caliber.

Fish and his crew opened, somewhat unusually, with the Marillion classic “Slainte Mhath”, even though you’d expect the lion’s share of “Clutching At Straws” to be played. Then, via an energetic “Circle Line”, Fish steered the show toward his solo material, dominated by pieces from the current album “13th Star”. “So Fellini” (Fellini Days, 2001) and the new “Square Go” also left a good impression, but among the solo numbers I thought the epic “The Perception of Johnny Punter” from “Sunsets On Empire” (1996) stood out, inspired by the tragic events of the recent Balkan past. The stage projections reflected that too, showing footage of the wartime scenes. They blended superbly into the atmosphere of the performance, which is packed with both raw riffing and subtler moments. This was where the Fish first demonstrated his theatrical chops in a big way, wrapping his keffiyeh around his face during the long instrumental section and playing the part of some kind of Islamic fundamentalist. He stood frozen for a while, in sharp contrast with his otherwise lively stage approach. Judging by his choice of solo material, Fish has lately been into darker, heavier-sounding stuff built on almost semitone metal riffs (one of the few “newer” prog bands the mighty Fish has a good word for is Porcupine Tree, so some of the newer influences surely come from there). I’d guess that also reflects his current, rather woman-unfriendly mood and the eternal search for his “true star” that runs through the concept of his latest album.

Compared to last year, Fish’s lineup had a few fresh faces, like new rhythm guitarist Chris Johnson, whom we’d already met after the interview. Let me mention that Chris boasted he’d already been to Slovenia, so he immediately recognized our gift of Karst Teran wine and assured Fish we weren’t planning to poison him. The youngster proved a good partner on guitar for old tomcat Frank Usher, and chipped in with backing vocals here and there. Behind the drums sat someone we hadn’t seen in Augsburg too: Gavin Griffiths, former drummer of Mostly Autumn, a band the Fish probably doesn’t want to see or hear anymore after his failed engagement to their singer. On keyboards was none other than the almost cult prog rock keyboardist Foss Paterson (who has worked with Camel and Jethro Tull, among others), who successfully proved himself the ideal keyboardist for Fish’s backing band. Old fox Frank Usher, the only one who’s been with Fish from the very start, confirmed his reputation as one of the more overlooked guitarists in modern prog rock, the kind people don’t usually talk much about. Bassist Steve Vantsis is also a longtime member of Fish’s band, and can boast that he contributed a big share of the ideas for “13th Star”. During the show Fish introduced every one of them, and made it clear who’s boss the moment some of them deliberately started provoking him and “beating their chests”.

After hitting the peak of his solo numbers with “Manchmal”, also from the current album, seasoned with a dark mood and guitar passages dressed in semitone shirts, he went completely unexpectedly, via “Hotel Hobbies”, back to material from “Clutching At Straws”. The crowd welcomed that move more than gladly, because, however good most of his solo numbers were, we have to admit most of us came mainly to enjoy the stuff from that Marillion classic. “Hotel Hobbies” properly revived the already visibly drowsy audience, which from then on, at least in the front rows, actively played along with the band and just about managed to rescue the concert atmosphere. Fish chased away the dampened crowd mood, a reflection of the embarrassingly low turnout, with a heap of his trademark humor, including social, football and sexual innuendo and some undisguised self-parody. More than once he joked about the poor attendance, saying “he really likes this special atmosphere of extreme intimacy and that we can now get to know each other by name”. Unlike last year, when he spoke between songs almost exclusively in German, this time I could understand him with no problem at all despite his thick Scottish accent.

Fish and his comrades then surprised us with a masterful version of the classic “Warm Wet Circles”, which Fish hadn’t put in his live repertoire for a very long time. The crowd even warmed up to the point where the keenest ones tried to mimic the original female backing vocal harmonies that come in at the end of “That Time Of The Night”. A few loyal fans were there after all. Around then, and on a few other “Clutching At Straws” numbers, you could tell that in his old age Fish can’t, and no longer wants to, chase the high notes he had in his Marillion days. With “Dark Star”, in my view one of the best pieces from his current album, Fish and his band briefly returned from the 80s to the present. As far as instrumental passages, atmosphere and Fish’s charismatic stage show go, it was, along with the aforementioned “Perception of Johnny Punter”, surely the best moment of the night among his solo numbers. Before “Sugar Mice”, which was also one of the best moments of the evening, Fish half jokingly, half seriously recalled the time when “he was still young and had some hair, and now he’s an aging bloke but wouldn’t wear a wig or implants for anything, because he’s short on time as it is, and would rather spend it lighting cigarettes than combing his hair”. Fish is still almost as passionate a smoker as a drinker, though during the show he was knocking back bottles of water, saying that “even a fish needs water”.

Next he complained that they’d lost their previous waiter on one of the trips, so his role had been taken over by Fish’s teenage daughter Tara. A moment later a sweet 16-year-old girl, who will surely grow into an attractive woman in the next few years, marched onstage with a tray and served drinks to daddy Fish and the other uncles from his band. Tara also diligently looked after selling her dad’s “souvenirs” before and after the show. “Sugar Mice” thus replaced “Incommunicado” as the moment of Fish’s show when he and his crew traditionally swap the bottles of water for intoxicating drops. Anyone the “sugar mice” failed to send into delirium surely got there with the excellent version of “White Russian”, which in a world of undiminished waves of intolerance and racism is an ever-relevant song, and which Fish, despite dodging some of the high notes, sang superbly in his own dramatic, harrowing way. The encore followed with a somewhat unexpected “Cliche”, basically a fairly average love ballad. That could easily have been a big letdown, but after Fish’s sudden exit the band stretched it out and played a superb instrumental extension, mainly through Usher’s excellent “Gilmour meets Latimer” guitar solo. That completely and unexpectedly won me over and made for yet another of the loveliest moments of the night.

After his unexpected absence, Fish did return to the stage, dressed in a football jersey with his name on it, missing only his usual glass of whisky and a straw. Everything was set for the long-awaited main “party”, the fan-chant-and-farce “Incommunicado”, which was also the last number of the night. If the atmosphere bloomed as it should anywhere this evening, it was during this always fun and witty Marillion classic, where Fish, just like in its video, turns for a moment into that lovable little drunk who’s just come back from a Scotland vs. Italy football match and is drowning his disappointment at the bar after the defeat (there was plenty of laughter this evening about the traditional football conflicts too). Fish and his comrades also made sure the obligatory dance happened. Even Chris Johnson, extremely calm during the regular set, allowed himself a few jumps in the air here. The crowd’s enthusiasm didn’t die down even when Fish had already thanked them and said goodbye from the stage. Sadly, we were robbed of two numbers that were on the tour’s regular set list. Fish, you see, gave the poor turnout one last slap, so despite the roaring ovations in the front rows he didn’t come back for the encore, which was supposed to be “The Last Straw”. He also left out “Vigil In a Wilderness of Mirrors”. Still, I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest, and I can say Fish somehow managed to deliver what I expected from him, even though the first encounter was undoubtedly better, but with me it’s almost always the case that the first encounter with a given performer stays in my memory more fondly than the next one.

Some people were quite a bit more critical, though, and complained after the show about the PA being too loud, especially at the start. That didn’t bother me much, although I agreed the sound was obviously set up for a bigger crowd than the one that showed up. My bigger criticism would go to the poor stage lighting, which was often used badly, especially when it came to lighting the main man of the night. And I can’t get past being appalled at the criminally low turnout (around 100 people) for one of the few solo artists in rock who still makes his music with heart and soul and always rewards the audience with the maximum of his abilities, no matter the circumstances. I’d call this Fish show very good, not phenomenal like the one in Augsburg, but still more or less in line with what I expected anyway. Especially after the hole in the crowd before the start pointed to something a lot worse. His stage show was set up differently than last year, as he didn’t play a classic album in full this time, but left out some of its songs and slotted solo numbers in between, so recreating last year’s atmosphere was impossible for that reason alone. On top of that came the catastrophically low turnout, which had a decisive effect both on the mood and on his set being cut short by a second encore.

At the end of the interview Fish even joked sarcastically that, thanks to our “valiant” organizers, he can’t go sightseeing in our country. Given the absurd turnout for his show in Bologna, I’d rather not imagine how many people would show up if some organizer with suicidal financial leanings dared to bring him to our neck of the woods. Even if they booked Magnifico as the support act, a packed hall would shrink, by the most optimistic estimates, to about fifteen souls by the time Fish arrived. Welcome to the small but very real world of sub-Alpine polka hoppers, Sunday beef soup and turbo folk, where the only fish people want are the ones in Mercator’s offering.