Gillingham, Kent, UK (By Mikey)
Venue:
Royal Festival Hall, London, UK Gig played on:
10 November 2003 When a man wearing a drop-dead dapper 'Godfather' suit and surrounded by a sea of adoring fans claims "My life has felt like one long fight", you're likely to treat his umbrage rather suspiciously. However, this is Kevin Rowland.
Rowland is a man living-off a mountainous reputation built upon just three albums, the last of which came out some twenty years ago. This is a man who's spent the intervening years crippled by both drug addiction and a fear of the world, which, for a fleeting time, idolised him. Last seen on-stage shielding himself from metaphorical bottles of ridicule, trussed-up in a dress, stockings and suspenders, Rowland is no ordinary pop star. Neither is he a self-obsessed emotional retard.
It's always the twisted, enigmatic geniuses that ignite the core of your soul and, in recent years, this venue has been almost embarrassed by the phantom-like presence of Arthur Lee and Brian Wilson. To many here, Rowland does not wither in their imposing shadows. That's probably because there's still nothing to compare to Dexys Midnight Runners. Seemingly at last in control of his evident demons, Rowland has again pieced together a righteous band of blasting, theatrical power, touching empathy and melancholic jubilation. Having swerved the temptation to wear women's clothes this time around, tonight Rowland's band are a red carpet of style and panache in both attire and presence.
Arriving wrapped inside what appears to be the skin of a Great Bear, Rowland immediately recognises how time has passed him by, without a hint of regret: "You'll notice some of these songs are different. That's because we've changed them. The whole world's changed, so why shouldn't we?"
One thing that certainly hasn't changed is the elastic intensity of Dexys elegant, knockout tracks, which boast more horn than a Newcastle FC 'roasting' session. When, on 'Let's Make This Precious', Rowland pleads: "Not those guitars, they're too noisy and cruel", it's a statement of intent, as we're embraced by a string of brass-fired soul anthems, reaching an apex with 'I Love You (Listen To This)' and 'Tell Me When My Light Turns Green'.
Perhaps Dexys finest moment - both on record and tonight - is 'This Is What She's Like', a ten-minute plus whirlwind of bulging, extravagant instrumentation, dramatic time changes and effervescent desire, as Rowland desperately tries to capture the glory of a love affair to flummoxed co-vocalist Richard Williams. "She's totally different in every way" attests Rowland, fittingly, amidst the magnificent, sprawling melee. Elsewhere, 'Geno' and 'Come On Eileen', long since consigned to the unacceptable dustbin in the mind of popular culture consciousness, fair unreasonably well, whilst Dexys excellent two new tracks 'Manhood' and 'My Life In England' suggest there is, perhaps, more to come.
As Rowland, fist aloft, strides triumphant from the stage, you're reminded of the cover of the new Dexys 'Best Of, as a lone shadow boxer lines-up one more punch. Incredibly, you get the glowing feeling there is plenty of fight left in Kevin Rowland yet.
