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It’s perhaps unsurprising that a man who idolizes Muhammad Ali has proven so adept at rolling with any punches that his carer has dealt him. Even the fact this gig was originally scheduled for the vast SECC but then downgraded to the smaller, though still decent sized confines of the Carling Academy, does not seem to faze Ian Brown. “This place is better than the SECC anyway” he snaps, and the assembled throng of Madchester veterans and new converts to Brown roar in approval.
Of course, the reason for the adulation is that Brown has proved to be a great survivor, against all odds. That famous swagger is still in place, right from the start as the band are played on by a bagpiper and carrying on all the way through to a chaotic surprise second encore. Never afraid to change and deviate from the norm, Brown’s music is something that is never consistent in style, save for that mumble of a vocal. ‘Sister Rose’ starts the gig on a high, a danceable stomping number that immediately gets pints flying through the air. The glorious sweeping guitar of ‘My Star’ follows, still one of the best things Brown has ever done.
Although Brown has a new album to promote, a hefty part of the set is devoted to his prior hits, with the likes of ‘Time Is My Everything’ a trumpet led joy. It’s perhaps just as well he concentrates on them, as of the material played from The World Is Yours most are disappointing, losing any subtlety to a sledgehammer and a nut approach, in both tunes and the at times clumsy lyrics. Not that his back catalogue is perfect either, the tedious groan of Noel Gallagher collaboration ‘Keep What You Got’ could only be made more boring if Gallagher himself turned up, such is its bloke-rock dreariness.
Brown’s band themselves are tight throughout, bolstered by the addition of former Smiths bassist Andy Rourke for several tracks, while Brown jogs on the spot at any interval and still has that strut. But even by his standards, Brown’s voice doesn’t enjoy the best of evenings. While on record, and even in the early clutch of songs played, his vocal has a weaving, unique and shamanic style, the longer the set goes on the more it becomes that drunk relative who always likes to do a turn at family weddings, droning tunelessly into the mic. Gigwise knows that this is part of Brown’s appeal but when his vocal is bad, it’s really bad and it’s not so much a sprint to the finish line as a weary stumble. Even when the first Roses song of the night is produced in ‘I Am The Resurrection’ it doesn’t satisfy, sounding almost like a cheap cover.
Thankfully, the encore offers salvation. ‘Golden Greats’ sounds massive, a perfect fusion of dance beats and a harder rock edge. Then comes ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ which works far better than Resurrection, the legendary bass line sparking delirium in the crowd while Brown strolls to the front of the stage. Finally, the epic, vast pop of F.E.A.R provides a fitting conclusion. Well,, it should have but doesn’t, as the band troop back on again after the lights go up, to rattle though an ‘Anarchy In The UK’ cover that’s a bit of a shambles. But in a fun , enjoyable way.
It’s just a shame that so much tedium had to be waded through to get to the excellent finale. Brown may be some distance away from hanging on the ropes but on this night he was sadly unable to deliver the knockout blow Gigwise hoped for.
