| Secondary Performers | Alfred Wilson,
Florence Lyle,
Rose Banks - vocals |
| Orchestra or Band | The Alan Peters Orchestra:
Odell Brown, Jnr.,
Michael Stanton,
Terry Evans,
Charles Bynum, Jnr.,
Melvin Webb,
Preston Wilcox,
Elmira Collins,
Noland Smith,
Dewitt Chappel,
Rose Banks Musicians,
Paul Smith,
Keith Hatchel,
David Stalling |
| Performance Notes | 'Well. it finally happened. After much speculation, confusion and gnashing of teeth, the rehirsuted one arrived in Britain for the first time in 12 years, opening his brief tour with two shows at London's famed domed echo box.
By 11:30 pm the evidence had all been presented and the jury was out judging from snatches of eavesdropped conversation the verdict was 11-1 in favour, ranging from polite appreciation to ecstasy.
The odd pockets of disappointment and discontent were scattered among those who had expected longer and more faithful re-creations of Marv's oldies (i.e. pre-What's Going On) and those who had expected miracles from some kind of black superhero when what they got was an hour or so's polished entertainment from a hard working trouper. Personally I enjoyed every minute but then I'd been half expecting a major let-down, and anyway I'm not at all adverse to the traditional tricks of the trade, provided they are executed proficiently.
They were.
Despite the Great Change from company product to personal statement in his music a few years back, Marvin Gaye is still very much a showman who mixes apparent casual spontaneity with obviously rehearsed routines. Among the more familiar ones familiar, that is, to aged observers of rock and soul shows came, in order of play, the "Let me hear you say yeah", "Let me hear you say ow" cheerleading, a couple of dancers, the stripping routine, hurling an article of clothing to the audience (woolly hat) and wonder of wonders, the falling on the knees bit at the climax of the show. (Which all goes to show that, with the right kind of records behind him Little Richard could still make a triumphant comeback).
The main revelation of the evening for me was that Marvin is one hell of a singer, an obvious statement to some perhaps, but one that I'd not fully appreciated from his records. Blocking my ears to the lavish and occasionally overbearing orchestration, I was quite content just to tune in to the man and his voice and his artistry, particularly during the best known of his new wave material Let's Get It On, Come Get To This, What's Going On etc. all of which were excellent, if a little perfunctory, and all of which brought the house down. But then he only had to smile and grind to raise a riot.
(At this point reviewer Cliff White was struck by a thunderbolt, or, more precisely, the news that Marvin Gaye might be prepared to receive him in person: Bob Woffinden takes up the story and offers a second opinion, thus helping to fill the empty space on the page...)
The highlights of Gaye's performance were Trouble Man and his closing number, Distant Lover. This is important. It was during Trouble Man, while Gaye was performing a piano solo, that a youngster from the audience leapt on stage and hugged Marvin round the neck before walking off with his bow-tie as a souvenir of his effrontery.
This was a turning point of the concert. Once everyone had realised that the security surrounding Gaye was virtually non-existent, it was the signal for all and sundry to leap on stage, and Gaye was forced to perform the rest of the show in uncomfortable conditions, with a couple of his aides and the Albert Hall manager barely contriving to prevent him from being physically mauled. Gaye, who has never been entirely at ease performing live since Tammi Terrell collapsed in his arms of a brain tumour in 1968, was noticeably unnerved; things were never quite the same.
The show took on a staccato pacing, while Gaye struggled to set things on a smooth, even keel. During many numbers he was encumbered as young fans flung themselves at his feet, or round his neck, or simply grabbed priceless mementoes Gaye's famous woollen cap was snatched from his head seconds after he's donned it, while the towels he used (he sweated profusely) were also carried off in successful kamikaze raids.
It this was an eye-opener for the press and the Tamla Motown organisation I don't think that any of us had previously realised that Gaye's appeal was so far-ranging; he seems to be loved equally by young and old, black and white it was also an eye-opener for the management of the Albert Hall. Their security arrangements were shown to be totally inadequate, and unhappily it seems likely that in future they may bracket soul concerts with rock concerts and avoid staging them.
Another irony of the evening was that Gaye has hitherto been one of the most hermit-like of rock/soul performers, quite unapproachable by press and public alike. He was never more approachable than at the Albert Hall, and never more vulnerable. His solitary comment, after yet another gesture of affection, was "I can understand it", but even if he could, it was apparent that he could never quite deal with it and indeed, he could not have been expected to.
However disconcerting this extra-mural activity was to Gaye himself, it was also disconcerting for the audience, many of whom found themselves unable to concentrate wholly on the music (though Cliff White obviously managed it). It was a bit like going to a football match and finding yourself watching only the fighting on the terraces.' (Cliff White, Bob Woffinden, New Musical Express, 2 October 1976) |