Friday, September 24th, 1999, Tower Winchester
Robyn Hitchcock + Terry Edwards and the Scapegoats
'Pyschedelia at full tilt'

Generally gigs at the Tower are sit down affairs or at least the ones I've generally attended. Tonight the atmosphere was more akin to one of those London bars like Dingwalls or the Marquee.

    Lots of folks stayed out of the theatre while Terry Edwards and the Scapegoats played. Preferred to drink at the bar and wait for the main man. I sat through most of their set. 'We're a jazz group,' reckoned Terry Edwards after the first song sounded like punk meets Ornette Coleman head on. Edwards let his lungs loose on alto saxophone while the drums and electric bass pounded on.
    There were some touches throughout the set which were notable but nothing overall that might make me dive out and bag some of the vinyl they had on sale. Terry Edwards switched between guitar, alto saxophone, melodeon and the kind of pocket trumpet Don Cherry used to play. I guess I'd have preferred acoustic bass and a drummer out of a New York jazz loft circa the mid sixties.
    What I heard was a punk jazz thing that went hard for it. Maybe because I've heard the bull runs of Peter Brottman and the saxophone aerobatics of Evan Parker, Teddy Edwards didn't turn my head. As I said there were bits which hit me. Like when they veered close to those classic Frank Zappa riffs. Largely I thought I'd heard it done a lot better. Each to his own. And they got a bit of applause for their stuff.
    Robyn Hitchcock came on to play guitar in on Terry Edwards and the Scapegoats last tune by which time I'd headed for the bar to beat the rush. My friend Pete says you could hardly hear him above the full on blast of the trio.
    First song was Mexican God from the new album Jewels for Sophia. The sound was excellent, every gig I've been here Gordon has had it spot on. As with many Robyn Hitchock gigs the first half a dozen songs are acoustic. The whole night might have been acoustic because from the off he was up for it and delivering a great set. The second song was Winchester sounding as full as the album version without the benefit of a band. I don't think I've ever heard him perform it live and it was fitting to be sung here. As good as any as an invite to walk down by the Water Meadows and up to St. Catherine's Hill to the Maze.
     The song that followed it was another as RH noted of his 'Home counties songs'. 1974 is one of those truly inspired takes on a time in history. The songwriter suggested if he can get historians in a 100 years to conclude that 1974 was crap he would have done his job. For anyone like me that remembers the horrendous stack heeled boot, lipstick glam rock of 1974 all to well this is a cracking take on that year. 'Ghastly mellow saxophones all over the floor', 'the stench of rotting minds the Guardian said', 'he's going to be Roger for the rest of his life' and the final summation 'digging Led Zepplin in Grimsby, Oh Christ . . .' all these lines just ring through the blackness and I'm in a time warp.
    Think the classic and unrecorded Gene Hackman followed. This one always reminds me of the earlier Raymond Chandler Evening, this way that Robyn Hitchcock has of writing a song with references to film. He follows it by mining an old folk classic. We think it is called Silver Dagger, which Robyn Hitchcock learned off a Joan Baez vinyl. I know it better as Fair and Tender Ladies a traditional song reworded by Gene Clark on one of his later albums.
    Whether the songwriter is performing an old standard like this or one of his own very unique songs the guitar play and the vocals are outstanding tonight. RH's songs, his performances are unlike anyone else I can think of. No use trying to comparing where the between song stories or the songs themselves are going.
    Next we got the marvellous I Don't Remember Guildford which always reminds me a Love song. The chorus with the horn like humming sounds like something like an outtake from Forever Changes. From my rough sleeve notes and even shot memory and consulting with Vic, I think the last solo song was Only You.
    If the first half of the set had been an acoustic masterpiece the concluding segment was as good as I've seen Robyn Hitchcock since those blinding sets in the 12 Bar. At this point Robyn Hitchcock introduced former Soft Boy and Katrina and The Waves guitarist Kimberly Rew. I'd been at the 12 Bar one night when Kimberly Rew took the stage and shook the walls with some of the finest pyschedelic rock I'd heard since John Cippollina went into the cold, cold ground and Moby Grape disbanded.
    The combination of Robyn Hitchcock on acoustic guitar and Kimberley Rew on supporting vocals and Gretsch meant that the next half or dozen so songs just took off. They began with a gorgeous version of Madonna of the Wasps. My two friends Pete and Vic were blinking mid song when Rew's guitar came with a beautiful full counter melody. Rew's wrings notes out of the head of his guitar in a series of chords and lead licks which culminate in him shaking the guitar head. He always reminds me of the great Rockette Morton in his gung ho days with Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band.
    A great version of Birds in Perspex followed with the twin vocals and guitars making a nonsense of most that passes for indie music these days. They also performed Queen of Eyes, Sleeping With Your Devil Mask, Kingdom of Love, She Doesn't Exist Anymore and one of the encores was Beautiful Queen.
    First encore I don't remember the title of the song and it was done acoustic. The second was Beautiful Queen which Robyn Hitchcock called the band back for, 'Kimberly Rew and heavy friends.' Terry Edwards and the drummer from the Scapegoats came on stage. Rew worked them through the highs and lows and in betweens of this song where it rises and falls on the choruses. RH told the drummer what kind of a effect he wanted. And it was a great version. Edwards blew a telling thick fog of saxophone, a simple and effective melody. Kimberly Rews guitar work was similarly understated and beautiful.
    Afterwards Terry Edwards would lean over and say 'Nice Debussy ending there . . .'
    Once again the final song I didn't remember the title of but did it matter this stuff tonight was just a long series of surreal takes on storytelling and songwriting as you'll hear on this planet. A good way apart from the mosh pit indie bands still trying to sound like the Beatles by way of Oasis and all. It was a cracking set from end to end. Favourite story? The one about God being a flying saucer and coming to land down on St. Catherine's Hill for the Millenium. Nice one.
Mike Plumbley