Last night I walked up to "The Greystones" pub with its "Backroom" concert venue and waited for Robin Williamson to take the stage. I first saw him when I was seventeen and he was the creative leader of The Incredible String Band. Last night there were about a hundred aficionados in the "Backroom", mostly badly groomed sixty and seventy somethings - for Robin himself is now in his seventieth year.
More than half of his songs and stories happen to the accompaniment of the Celtic harp which he plays with nimble passion. Otherwise, half-crouched behind the harp he plays his acoustic guitar in a skilfully idiosyncratic manner that has been fashioned through fifty long years as a troubadour. The songs are interspersed with gentle chit-chat and oddly amusing tales such as the time he was in Nashville, Tennessee.
Arriving in the marbled foyer of his hotel, in his softly lilting Scottish accent, he repeatedly asked the stogie-smoking black manager who was sitting in a green leatherette armchair if he could leave the heavy case for his Celtic harp in a store room and he'd take the harp itself up to his room to practise upon. Still chewing and puffing on his cigar butt, the manager appeared baffled so he asked Robin's tall Texan agent - "What he say?". The Texan translated the request. "Well why didn't he say that?" and the request was fulfilled.
And then he moved into "October Song" - the only recognisable Incredible String Band number of the night. It was a song which Bob Dylan once described as "all right" - a point that has clearly tickled Robin through the tears. He played an "all right" Dylan number and then delivered a memorable version of "Wild Horses". He kept losing picks and plectrums and his voice soared and quivered enigmatically. He was a bumbling granddad in his lumberjack overshirt and his maroon jeans.
And though he is very much an acquired taste, he is someone who has remained true to his art his whole adult life. Still making music and I'm glad I went along though it is unlikely I shall ever see him play live again:-
You are so lucky to have local venues that still encourage live music. We have the sounds of poker machines
ReplyDeleteHello "Unknown"! What a cool name! Are you in Las Vegas?
DeleteI'd have grabbed a taxi and popped up.
ReplyDeleteI like seeing musicians from my youth. They seem to have mellowed with age. I just wish I had. I've just got slower.
No Adrian. They call you Mellow Yellow - quite rightly!
DeleteHow did you keep the camera so steady? I love the older musicians like that. I was so lucky to see Utah Phillips at a small venue just a month or so before he passed. Even though he was very ill, he gave us a great show.
ReplyDeleteJan - I wasn't the cameraman! I just found that clip on YouTube. I think it was taken in Denmark or maybe Germany.
DeleteHow special YP to see him again and thank you for sharing his music.
ReplyDeleteThe pleasure is all mine Miss Carol!
DeleteCertainly an 'acquired taste'. When I now listen to all my old ISB albums, I wonder what I ever saw in them (but I loved them at the time). Apparently Licorice is still missing!
ReplyDeleteI know what I loved about them Cro. I loved their poetry and the sense that they weren't following the crowd - like sheep. Funny how Robin looks a little like a sheep now.
DeleteI thought when I saw your photograph of Robin on my sidebar, that it was the 7th Marquess of Bath. I thought Mr YP has gone all aristocratical and completely forgotten his socialist leanings. He is now going to tell us a saucy tale about wifelets, orgies in Longleat and the like. But no...
ReplyDeleteLLX
Too many 'I thought's. I thought now you are retired, you obviously wouldn't have noticed.
DeleteSorry Sir!
LLX
I thought...or I forgot to think...or I unthought... The only proper orgies at Longleat were when the lions got together under the trees...but I see what you mean about The Marquess of Bath Lettice. There is a striking similarity.
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