Troy Redfern, as he points out, has opened for Sweet before. This time, though, he’s brought drums. And it’s amazing what a difference that makes to his sound. I’ve seen Redfern many times, and I’m here to tell you that I’ve never seen him more primal than this.
Standing up and beating his kit as if it owes him money, Paul Annis is the perfect foil for Redfern—and what is particularly interesting about this set is that he’s looking back to find new life in his material.
Early on, there’s one that has a hook about him “changing my soul,” but simultaneously sounds like it’s the last thing he’s going to do. He also goes back to the “Wings Of Salvation” album for a couple, “Native” from his last album and the older one “Dark Religion,” just to give off a different energy here than they have before.
That’s true, too, of all the music he plays. “Waiting For Your Love” (which he describes as his favourite song off “The Fire Cosmic” album) finds a new side, and there’s a real jam on the usually rockabilly-flavored “Sanctify.”
Troy Redfern has always looked and played like a rock star. But he always seems to have some other desires. When he channels it all, he really is special.
The big screen flashes up the phrase “Are you ready for Sweet?” There’s no question mark; it’s a statement—so let’s deal with the Andy Scott-sized elephant in the room.
The beating heart of Sweet for 50-odd years is not here. They’ve replaced him with the genius that is Jim Kirkpatrick, and you can debate all day long whether it’s a tribute band now. Although bassist (and doing those high parts) Lee Small has been in the band for a while, drummer Adam Booth has been part of the family for donkey’s years, and Tom Corry co-produced the new album with Scott.
On that basis, shall we just get on with doing what singer Paul Manzi suggests: “Enjoy the music of Sweet”?
And my goodness, when it comes to Sweet rock and roll, there’s so much to love.
It’s not just the fact it starts with “Action” and “Hellraiser”; it’s the joy in the others, too.
They dip back to the early days for “The Six Teens,” but it says all about the band that they are looking to the present as much as the past. “Don’t Bring Me Water” is one of a sprinkling from the new album that don’t just fit right in; they improve things. That’s true of both “Circus” and “Destination Hanover,” too.
And it’s interesting to concentrate for a second on the ones they’ve dusted off for this run: “Windy City” and “AC/DC” are both superb—even if, in the case of the latter, it does fall into the “I’m not sure they’d get away with that anymore” category.
But—and this is no bad thing—what people are really here for is the end of this. The last half-hour where one of the finest glam rock bands that ever existed plays some of the greatest glam rock songs ever made.
Watching a crowd of people of a “certain age” sing “Teenage Rampage” will always raise the warmest of smiles, as they chant “We Want Sweet,” “Wig Wam Bam,” “Little Willy,” “Love Is Like Oxygen” (which they always seem to love to play), and “Fox on the Run”—as good as anyone of this ilk and vintage could manage.
And that doesn’t even include the encore. That riff to “Blockbuster”—and they’re one of the great “riff” bands—is Sweet—before the one that awakened a new generation to their magic, in the shape of “Ballroom Blitz.” And straight away, we’re back at the cinema watching Wayne’s World again (at least we are if we’re my age).
With that, they’re done, but the music will always live on. Manzi, their superb frontman, promises that “we’ll be back…all of us.”
That will be something to look forward to, of course, but then any Sweet gig is. The only thing this is a tribute to is great music and great fun.
