“I need to be disciplined,” says Steve Hogarth at one point during this performance. His tongue, as ever, is firmly adjacent to his cheek. Hogarth has never seemed overly bothered by convention or by taking things too seriously. At another moment he grins, “I’m gonna do some old stuff – not that old, calm down…” before shaking his head and adding, with mock resignation, “35 years and still the new boy…”
And yet, whenever you watch him, you’re watching a masterclass. “SPQR” is no different.
Captured at Rome’s Sala Sinopoli on February 2, 2024, this is a genuinely mammoth undertaking. Hogarth is joined by Italian band RanestRane as his backing group, with the Flowing Chords choir also playing a central role. It’s intimate, theatrical, occasionally disorientating, and frequently breathtaking.
It opens with “Thank You Whoever You Are,” a performance that leans hard into the drama, even by Hogarth’s standards. There’s a heightened sense of theatre here, his physicality matching the emotional pull of the song. From there, “Afraid of Sunlight” is simply gorgeous and quietly heartbreaking, a reminder of just how devastating that 1995 material can still be in the right hands.
“White Paper” and “Famous Blue Raincoat” follow, the latter somehow feeling even more poetic in this setting, Hogarth lingering on the words as if discovering them anew. When he asks the audience if there are any requests, it lands differently here – partly because he’s dealing with some of the greatest songs ever written, and partly because there’s a genuine sense of conversation rather than performance.
That sense of fun is never far away. “Cover My Eyes (Pain and Heaven)” and the “Three Minute Boy / All You Need Is Love” medley start small but grow into something huge, Hogarth effortlessly pulling the room with him. When RanestRane fully join him on “The Deep Water,” it’s oddly disorientating in the best possible way – Steve solo, but suddenly surrounded, stepping into deeper waters with a band at his side.
“Sounds That Can’t Be Made” brings fresh textures, including a Spanish guitar that subtly reshapes the song’s emotional weight. Then comes the moment of self-mockery again, this time the audible “oh fuck” as a harmonica appears. It’s pure Hogarth – self-aware, playful, and utterly committed.
“Waiting To Happen” and “Estonia” are among the record’s emotional peaks. The latter, in particular, builds patiently, swelling to a powerful crescendo with accordion adding unexpected depth. It really makes you think, reframing a song many already hold sacred.
When the Flowing Chords choir from Rome join for “The Crow and the Nightingale,” the effect is astonishing. They add a real flourish, lifting the song into something almost transcendent. Someone in the audience shouts “do it again,” and you can’t blame them.
The set leans more “arty” again with “Nothing to Declare,” which soars, before “Acid Rain” lands as a distinctly European moment, its themes resonating strongly in this context. “Go!” strips things back to acoustic again, becoming something close to a singalong, driven by the sheer power of connection between performer and audience.
By the time “Man of a Thousand Faces” arrives, Hogarth jokes that he’s never sung it sitting down before, and the reaction is uproarious. And if the show has to end with “Easter,” then those harmonies feel like the only possible way to close the circle.
“Well, what a blast,” he says that evening. Earlier, he’d offered this advice: “When in Rome… find yourself an amazing Italian band and gig with it.” Both statements are absolutely true.
Not bad for a newcomer, this lad. Imagine what he’ll be like with experience.
Rating: 9/10
