Review: Lee “Scratch” Perry, Fiddlers

Anyone with any nous turns up to catch the support band because who knows when you might discover your new favourite band or gain boasting rights for seeing some massive band back when they were playing the small rooms? Fiddlers was fairly well packed when Brummie nine piece Kioko took to the stage: huddled around the drums, backs to the crowd they started a slow groove before the three piece brass section exploded in to life.

The musicianship was top notch throughout – rock solid rhythm section (as much about the gaps as the beats); refreshing percussion and atmospheric but occasionally cheeky keys along with some great guitar work – choppy rhythm and stinging leads. In fact Jon Brown’s leads could have been longer, louder and more frequent because that guy can wail.  The band’s secret weapon though was the horn section: sassy, bright and just plain rude the horns drove the songs as the guys moved, grooved and looned, simultaneously sharp rude boys and entertainingly daft lads.

The tunes were beautifully well crafted and infectious; lyrically deft and encompassing love, life and positive vibes. Mercy offered a much needed corrective for the poisonous prejudice infecting our country whilst Cellphone (?) was a languid lover’s lament. Set closer Deadly Roots (?) was a darker yet still danceable cut lifted by a raucous singing competition and an ad-hoc dance lesson from the band.

The dance lesson was the culmination of what had really made the set special: the band’s total commitment to their show and their unflagging desire to entertain the crowd as well as delight with their oeuvre. No bugger on stage was still for a second, the horns engaged in semi improvised dance moves (The Temptations meets the Goodies); reverse stage invasions saw trumpet players in the crowd and Brown overcome and prone on the floor. Singalongs were encouraged and a preposterously fabulous time was had by all. There are plenty of bands that are too cool for school but this lot were a real tonic; solid, catchy material and an impossibly likeable stage presence. Watch out for their return, you will leave their show exhausted but renewed, with aching feet & knees, hoarse from singing and laughing.

Lee “Scratch” Perry is arguably one of that select group of artists that have genuinely changed the course of popular music (start here and check this) and at 80+ he is still touring, still working and still as mad as a box of stoned frogs. Although given the behaviour of many of the inhabitants of the Earth over his lifetime maybe he’s the sane one… His five piece band (guitar x two, bass, drums and keys) opened proceedings with a slinky instrumental before the Upsetter took to the stage, his arrival heralded by his suitcase roadie (no, really), placing the luggage in front of the drums (and of course firing up the joss sticks in the bananas – oh yes, really). Dr. Lee PhD took to the stage and plugged in his custom microphone, complete with Ankh and docking station for his lighter (of course).

What followed was both a masterclass in machine tooled yet mortal reggae, faultlessly delivered without sounding rote but topped off with surreal singing / toasting / chanting / preaching / rambling vocals barely understandable at times but clear in meaning throughout. Resplendent in dayglow leggings, a three quarter length coat (probably made out of material from a Victorian chaise lounge) and topped off by a feathered headdress, the Super Ape was greeted with total devotion as the front rows reached in to grasp his hands for irie benediction.

Never still the Originator was a restless presence on the stage, striding backwards and forwards, constantly reaching in to the crowd, enticing a young lady on to the stage for a chorus or two and keeping his drinks roadie busy as he wet his whistle, often mid song. The songs themselves were solid yet elusive, the fug of the vocals and the improvised & rearranged lyrics confusingly preventing easy or immediate identification. But that didn’t matter a damn, the music was revelatory – clear & clean, powerful and irresistible – no one, but no one static in the rammed room as the heat built and the set skanked inexorably onward. The band were tight throughout, firmly rooted and with expressions that ranged from grim to stern and yet grins broke out every so often as the Dub Innovator issued gnomic instructions to them or bust a particularly funky move (remarkably limber for a fella in his eighth decade).

Of course he lit a spliff up, of course he praised his “loyal English fans” and of course he issued some bizarrely sensible commentary on current affairs – pitying the presidents, queens and rulers – especially “poor, poor Prince Charles”. The set culminated with a metallic and extended Exodus, the Dub Shepherd having exchanged his headdress for the inevitable hand customised baseball cap and scatting a lyric that was vaguely linked to the original and yet still as powerful. Despite the clamour, no encore arrived but mic still in hand the Innovator could be heard chatting to the crowd as he made his way to the dressing room and seemingly posing for selfies all the way. A unique experience from a true maverick and icon, no amount of likes or streams or downloads will ever equate to the charisma and talent on display tonight. Make it your business to see him on his return.

Pix by Shona Cutt

Lee “Scratch” Perry: Fiddlers, Sunday 1st October 2017