Reviewed by Paul H Birch

Having picked up by guest pass, my eyes stray across to the merchandise stand and I spot the name Dom Martin; strolling across it’s he’s support on this tour, only confirmed a month back. The lady who’s told me all this Audrey Parsons, the pair of us realising we’ve communicated previously, happy of this news I say my farewell, then on leaving the town hall, like an excited child call out Martin’s name for he stands before me. His hand reaches out to shake mine, it’s firm and warm, brief pleasant exchanges made before I’ll see him again, on stage, in about an hour’s time. 

Since covid, Sundays in Birmingham’s city centre have pretty much become a dead zone if you’re looking for a drink. Take a step out towards Broad Street and it’s a different matter, what’s more several bars have live music. Popping into the O Bar, I see a mate, grab a drink, and catch covers band, Hoodoo Brown, who appear to specialise in early 80s US mainstream rock singles given a bluesy roots flavour. They’re decent. The venue itself, good; there’s free entry, the bands on from 6-6.30pm the place closing by 8.30pm. But I am excited, and am early out the door, not only am I going to see the man I consider one of the greatest living guitarists again but one of the great talents of recent years also.

Dom Martin walks on, two acoustic guitars in hand. “How you all doing?” he asks matter of factually, in his Irish brogue. For those unaware, he’s been touted as the new Rory Gallagher, but put such thoughts to one side, at least tonight. What can’t be mistaken is the timbre of his voice; close your eyes when he sings and it’s uncanny; you’d think John Martyn was present. As it is, he performs a number that folk renegade also did, one that’s gone by several titles, most often ‘Jelly Roll Blues’ – It begins with a filigree of flamenco and percussive thrumming, then resounding echoed grandeur felt once the song commences in earnest, the man on stage’s voice being bright and clear. Slide guitar then prepares the way for stylish playing and some bleak lyrics as he sings “Take my house, burn it down,” for a little ditty entitled ‘Daylight I Will Find’.

It probably comes as no surprise to those in the audience previously unaware, when he announces: “I come from Belfast” – When I saw him previously, I couldn’t work out where the path between harrowing confessional life story and black humour used as copying mechanism began.  What I see up on stage tonight, albeit decked in black, is a fit looking guy, confident in his skills, sharing the love, dark as it is. And so, a series of jokes run between Martin and audience, leading to ‘Belfast Blues’ with a rockier feel where he uses his acoustic to effect sustains and the kind of riffs usually more associated with the electric model, his voice testifying and proclaiming in revelatory mode. Soundscapes ensues before he moves towards the left hand side of the stage, soloing in earnest, the chap to my right making the comment this could work as the soundtrack to a Ken Loach film.

He changes guitar, tells us he’s about to play a new number, and joking “It’s about as intense as it gets – don’t worry!” There are harmonics, brisk folk glissandos, banging of the string, sustained riffing, Spanish styled arpeggios and quite possibly a bass line too, making me wonder if he’s using a looping effect. “Well, you haunt me, woman, never said a word” he sings, the music getting dark, moody, and even more cinematic as his guitar matches his deep growling voice where a menacing laugh within the song proves most evocative. Suffice to say he holds the audience captivated during this ‘Haunted’ number.

“I wrote this next one for psychopaths” his jokes by now beginning to be appreciated, while the irony in the very pretty notes cascading forth as ‘Hell For You’ begins cannot be overstated, expressive as they are imaginative as he moves slowly about the stage playing. When he starts singing it’s as if you’re listening to both sides of a bad relationship breakup that is beautiful in its utter despair. 

As we sit in harrowing wonder, he cheerfully notes, “I’ll leave you with this one,” then, caught in the moment asks if there are any musicians in audience and proceeds to do a casual poll with them, ultimately, concluding that it’s an emotional catharsis for many of personal woes, no matter how bad we might twang a chord. “You don’t need to impress, It should be on prescription, it’s a great outlet,” he declares, adding, “You’ve been lovely, I really appreciate your time” as he strums his way into ‘Easy Way Out’ – There  are chordal harmonics baroque changes, music that’s almost romantic in its cheery picking, even as he sings: “He pulled his guns and I pulled mine first again” for here’s a tale about criminals, lowlifes, and the need for survival, epic in feel as draws the song into an elegiac instrumental section. “Thank you very much,” he declares one last time, his guitar ringing out as  much applause is felt as a spot light shine down on him, and not for the last time.

Next for many, is the folly that’s resulted from far too many traditional venues across the Midlands that have got themselves all dolled-up to look spanking new. Some young bright spark of a designer seems to be going round suggesting reducing toilet facilities would be a productive use of space. Not for those gentlemen – of all ages – lining the town hall’s staircase tonight. I presume the flawed logic is that with such expensive bar costs, they’ll pull more money in but the punters won’t be able to afford to drink much and not need the loos. The evidence before our eye proves otherwise. But onto the main event…

Lights go down, smoke rises and music plays, then as spotlights shine down the rhythm section of Richard Watts (Vocals and bass) Chris Taggart (Drums) walk on stage, and barely a moment later Robin Trower is before us placing his Stratocaster around his neck – A series of licks wail out and the trio launch into some throbbing rock  with ‘The Razor’s Edge’.

It was around ten years back that Trower last trod these boards, and I was spellbound. Joanne Shaw Taylor had been the support and put in a good performance; Trower then offered a masterclass. Which was a whole lot different to when I first saw him decades previous, back then I needed my guitar heroes leaping round the stage, and the stock figures on stage didn’t impress. I’ve grown up since then, but tonight I’m like a little kid, excited, and amused too, because there’s life in the old dog on stage tonight, he might not be throwing windmill shapes with his right hand or duck walking like Chuck Berry, but he’s certainly getting into things up there, bobbing about, throwing a few guitar shapes, but most importantly letting out a loud ringing sustained solo that tells you he’s in the house. With eyes closed he shreds notes with deep clarity, then eyes opened again he churns out meaty riffs to the song’s conclusion.

“That you very much, we appreciate it,” he announces. As with his support act, his audience interaction is  polite but not trite, albeit perhaps akin to that of the wholesome family entertainer of yesteryear from whence he no doubt learnt such manners. Explosive guitar work leads into a most heavily funked version of ‘Too Rolling Stoned’, its signature solo heard before going off into new phase. Slowing down with a humongous sustain he proceeds to take a more biting solo, with Taggart’s kit giving it hell for leather and legs astride Watts taking it in his stride. Trower’s upper body moves side to side as more echoed tones ring out. Within the structure of an extended solo unique phrases ripple out amid inverted chords the tone uniquely all his with such obvious control in his playing. Returning to the more familiar aspects of the song we know we’re heading towards its  conclusion and there is huge applause from a crowd delivered such a heavy hitter so early on in the set.

Unsurprisingly after such a work out he  tunes his guitar, albeit only taking seconds. That I never notice him do it again during the evening, nor change to another guitar all night (despite seeing his guitar tech off stage holding another), is nearly as impressive as his playing. The slow blues of ‘Wither On The Vine’ is next, Watts steady vocals adding emotion to the  number, while Trower picks at his Strat with plectrum eliciting sharpened notes.

Next up, ‘Somebody’s Calling’ get a rough tough funk guitar attack lead in, rather than the cool wine bar soul groove of its original. Indeed, it proceeds to take on a defiant jazz fusion approach. Sustained notes hold, then curve outwards followed by a funky chord-come-licks sequence, and this is just the intro, even as white spotlights shine down on the stage, proceeded by red and blues slowly dancing about. This is one of my favourite tunes by Robin Trower and it’s so atmospherically different from that on record but I really like what they’ve done with it. The guitarist slowly prowls the stage as he solos, the number extended solo, that goes funkier edging into the evening fusion arrangement and concluding.

The first of two numbers from Trower’s 80s collaborations with the late Jack Bruce follows and it’s worth commenting on the unassuming Watts again – Here on the slow, dreamy psychedelics of  ‘Distant Places Of The Heart’ the singer sounds not unlike Bruce, as he does on those classic James Dewar sang on, without aping either. A hypnotic mover of a song, it’s the first time I see Trower using his tremolo arm as he goes into the high sonics of a feedback solo.

“We’re going to do something off the new album – Hope you like it!” he laughs into the mic before his legendary wah-wah tone wails out the PA. Less brusque than on record, but stoic still, we’re offered a friendly rendition of ‘Come And Find Me’, the title track from his latest album, one that deserves checking out. The taught blues rock of second Bruce collaboration, ‘It’s Too Late’, is next before Trower’s back up at the mic, with a grin, telling us it’s: “Golden oldies time… 1, 2, 3, 4…” as he counts the band in a firecracker military attack of music ensues, there’s an unholy scream from his six string and ‘Day Of The Eagle’ charges into life – His actual guitar sound different from that on record here, we’re pulled along regardless by the emphatic rush of the song and when at last it seemingly slows down, to what these days might be referred to as downer or desert rock it’s not until he starts initiating a series of varying trills that we realise they’re going straight into ‘Bridge Of Sighs’ – This is apocalyptic visionary blues, with a resonating scorched earth approach.

Robin Trower is quite animated tonight, walking round, his upper body dipping side to side, a left leg raised now and again, big smiles with a fulsome set of teeth, or his lips mumbling away with the notes he’s playing before closing his eyes as he leans back…. And using practically every fret on his Stratocaster, and with purpose, the sounds, phrases – Wow! It’s about the sound, man. Using tremolo once more he looks at his fretboard as if to say I’ll put that finger over there and my other one up there, deciding each phrase just before its gets played. Last time I got to see Jeff Beck I noticed his right hand making similar lightning fast decisions, such guitarists are a rare and incredible breed. Trowers’ playing is creative, impressing us, until finally he pulls his left hand away from the guitar, those strings cast off echoing as his freed arm waves out the crowd.

The sweet and sour, strident blues rock of ‘No More Worlds To Conquer’ has us bopping again. Another slow number comes our way then with the classic ‘Daydream’ where there’s a sense of jazz timing at play beneath the nursery lullaby feel of the number with choice guitar phrases elicited between the vocal lines.

All three men on stage are unassuming t-shirt wearing blokes. Watts appears not to be a tall guy and looks younger than he possibly he is. Taggart seems sat low behind his kit so you can really see the heft of his swing and raising of his legs in playing. Both hold their own. 

While acknowledging Trower is not a young man (indeed he’s recently turned 80), but due to him wearing a t-shirt, it’s notable that his slightly built frame is shaped by lithesome musculature down his forearms right down to his hands, most especially his left fist as it cradles his fretboard. 

Dom Martin made the comment that playing music keeps you spiritually well, looking at Trower one notes how it can keep you well physically too; possibly staving one from the effects of rheumatism felt in my own younger hand as I write.

So, sustaining with his left hand, his right alters his guitar body’s control pots offering unique phrases, then lowering the intensity of his stretch and pull, he begins to issue cascading arpeggios, contentedly sighing “Yeah!” into his mic. I do like to see a man happy in his job, one he’s had longer than many have been alive.

“Hope to see you again sometime!” he calls out as drums pound their way into ‘Little Bit Of Sympathy’. Trower kicks out with his left leg prior to his left arm racing every which round his fretboard, then moving towards his wah-wah pedal, switches on and gives it some while smiling over at Watts and Taggart who’s really letting rip himself, drums shuffling away, and going to town. Falling into the song’s slow section, Trower’s foot is back on his wah-wah, trilling his left  hand fast hand up and down his fretboard as once more up at the mic he calls out, “Thank you very much, good night!” just as right hand goes up and flicks his plectrum out to some lucky audience member. That the band has practically left the stage while we’re still trying to see who got his pick not a worry as it’s not long before they’re back for two encores.

Leaning back, eyes closed as he plays, Trower entreats us to a heavy funk rocking ‘Rise Up Like The Sun’. Moving forward with a broad toothy smile he throws shapes as echoed notes chime out; really getting animated in his solo, each phrase a variation on the previous, looking at his fretboard as if to ‘Say what was that?’, almost surprising himself for a milli-second. There is some big applause to this one.

It’s possibly stretching things a little, but between the song titles and their lyrical themes there’s been an overall arching theme of a spiritual quest without getting bogged down in any religious dogma. It’s been more about rejoicing in the affirmative aspects of life and love. Thus, tonight’s final number, is ‘Birdsong’ – A number that is akin to the shy, quiet wakening of a brand new day. Trower’s guitar sings out bright and clear, before creating ever more unique sounds with his hands, and I say that because he’s standing about 3 feet from his effects board and it don’t make sense how he’s achieving it. A voice in my head should be telling me it’s what being a creative virtuoso is about.

Circling about the stage, Trower’s wah-wah intonation swerves into tonally prolonged notes inserting inspired phrases between them. His right hand first hits the strings of his axe, creating wholly new sounds, with more phrases added. The song ends, he smiles once more, and another plectrum is thrown out to the audience. He weaves about, and like magic they’ve left the stage for a final time. None of this bask in the glory, take a bow for photos from this lot. They’ve delivered all that could be expected.  

Passion with integrity, ferocity with class. Another master class.

Set List:

• The Razor’s Edge

• Too Rolling Stoned

• Wither On The Vine

• Somebody’s Calling

• Distant Places Of The Heart

• Come And Find Me

• It’s Too Late

• Day Of The Eagle

• Bridge Of Sighs

• No More Worlds To Conquer

• Daydream

• Little Bit Of Sympathy

Encores:

• Rise Up Like The Sun

• Birdsong