Robyn Hitchcock welcomed in winter 2014 by playing his 1984 recording I Often Dream Of Trains as close to entirety as possible. Why would he choose to do so? Because he can. ‘But is it music you would play to your grandmother?’ l wish l could hear you ask. Well, yes. Because Hitchcock has reached a certain age that he could be your grandfather. But no pipe and slippers for him just yet. Pointing out that he had one button missing on his polka dot shirt belied his relaxed demeanour. It was a ramshackle, almost spontaneous rendition of songs. Rehearsals? Where is the fun in that.
The support act lent its charms to accompany Hitchcock with backing vocals and guitar. Gerry Hale also sauntered on stage to play some tunes with his old muck, to reminisce about some of the hazards of life and recall the days of youth swanning around busking and art school. A completely relaxed but decidedly not detached performance was put in.
Ever with the rapier wit, Hitchcock introduced Sometimes l Wish I Was A Pretty Girl, Cathedral, Ye Sleeping Knight Of Jesus, and I Used To Say I Love You… All wondrous in their own way.
But the real highlights came when he became even more retentive and benign. Public transit authorities worldwide could do well to engage him to bring a little charm to their campaigns. Loosing sleep over myki? Then give Trams Of Old London and I Often Dream Of Trains a go. A veritable goldmine of nostalgia to take your mind of things as you board your public transport of choice blissfully thinking that this day will be the day when the commute will be free of the usual pressures.
However, Hitchcock does not stop there. He manages to tackle My Favorite Buildings, indulge in some psychosis, Sounds Great When You’re Dead and blast the audience away with a ramshackle vocal performance of Uncorrected Personality Traits. Indeed, as the mercury begins to drop along with the general mood of the population, you will warmly recall the necessity of a haberdashery counter at every rock venue. As Hitchcock leaves our shores, you also begin to wonder what stunt he’s planning next. It is sure to be good.
BY BRONIUS ZUMERIS
Loved: Earnest old men.
Hated: The lack of a full house.
Drank: Fluid.
