Whelan’s is completely jammed for English maverick Robyn Hitchcock’s performance, and you can scarcely move without spilling the pint of a musician, DJ, journo or music industry figure of some description. Hell, even Bono and The Edge had two bottles of champagne delivered to Hitchcock’s dressing room, along with a note wishing the performer and his band well.
And the reason for all this attention? Well, Hitchcock’s bewitching brand of oddball indie rock is certainly an attraction, but there’s no doubt that the presence of Peter Buck stage left has resulted in an increased level of interest. In fact, Hitchcock’s current backing group, the Venus 3, have top-notch credentials all round; aside from Buck, there’s bassist Scott McCaughey and drummer Bill Rieflin (both members of REM’s touring line-up), who initially found fame in, respectively, renowned indie outfit Young Fresh Fellows and industrial legends Ministry (Rieflin also co-founded industrial super-group Pigface).
Fittingly, with such a rock-oriented line-up, Hitchcock’s current material is much more guitar-heavy than his reputation as a whimsical psych-folk artist would suggest, frequently sounding like no one so much as mid-’80s REM. At times however, the music threatens to become a sideshow to Hitchcock himself, such is the advanced humour of his between-song banter.
A striking visual presence with his mop of grey hair and floral patterned shirt, Hitchcock has an equally flamboyant personality. Cracking jokes, telling stories and rambling off on surreal tangents a la Peter Cook in Sir Arthur Streeb-Greebling mode, he could conceivably have won a Perrier Award had he chosen a career in stand-up comedy. Indeed, with such a compelling stage presence, it’s no wonder that Silence Of The Lambs/Stop Making Sense director Jonathan Demme chose to make Storefront Hitchcock, a concert film of one of the singer’s performances.
Not that Hitchcock’s any slouch on the musical front, mind; the title track of his latest album Ole! Tarantula, is a typically skewed delight, while his tribute to the New York Dolls’ Arthur ‘Killer’ Kane, simply titled ‘NY Doll’, is absolutely stunning. For me though, the showstopper is ‘Television’ from his Spooked album, a poison pen letter to the medium,but built around beautiful ringing guitar lines and minimal percussion.
For good measure, they even throw in Syd Barret and Byrds covers, although those on tenterhooks in anticipation of a possible REM tune ultimately wait in vain. But what the hell – Hitchcock is the master of suspense, after all.
View a photo gallery from the night!