Zervas and Pepper’s passports might say “Wales,” but their hearts scream “West Coast America, circa 1969.”
A little like their fellow countryman Martyn Joseph once sang, they were born too late—but that doesn’t stop songs like “Living in a Small Town” from being sun-dappled and lovely.
Their intentions are clear early on as they cover “I Wasn’t Born to Follow” by The Byrds (they later throw in a Joni Mitchell track, “This Flight Tonight”). One of their own songs, “Ghost Dancer,” was written on a trip to Laurel Canyon.
Travel is important to them—because if this type of Americana should surely be conceived on dirt roads, then “Cigar Store Indian” almost was.
Indeed, by the time they’ve played “Here and Now,” the overriding feeling is that Zervas and Pepper aren’t just steeped in the music they make—they’re gifted at it too.
They appear again, actually, right at the start of The Waterboys’ set. The band has flipped the setlist on its head tonight—“Fisherman’s Blues” might have closed most of the shows on this tour, but here, it kicks things off.
It makes for a raucous atmosphere from the get-go, and they capitalise on that with “Glastonbury Song.”
Oddly, though, it’s the love and reverence with which Mike Scott talks about his guitar that shines a light on how much music matters to him—and all that love bursts forth on “How Long Will I Love You.” Indeed, it’s tempting to imagine that one as a hymn to his six-string.
The changed set is reflected in a country-tinged arrangement of “Be My Enemy,” which is followed, as if to prove there’s good rockin’ tonight, by “A Pagan Place.”
“This Is the Sea” becomes a highlight, and the line about “let go of the past” rather explains the risk-taking that comes next.
They’ve just released Life, Death and Dennis Hopper—an incredibly brave, ambitious, and sprawling record based on the life and times of the Hollywood maverick—and right in the middle of the set, underpinning the whole thing, they play most of it.
“Kansas,” the brilliant opener sung by Steve Earle, is piped in, but the rest is live. It ranges from the wonderful—“Live in the Moment” and “The Tourist”—to the downright odd—“Michelle (Always Stay)”—and something in between: “Golf, They Say.”
Like all concept records, it has its missteps. The ’50s-flavoured “Andy (A Guy Like You)” or the psychedelics of “Hopper’s on Top (Genius)” seem just a touch too much. But credit to them for doing it. As it plays out with “The Passing of Hopper,” it’s clear this is a work they love.
There’s what amounts to part three, too, as Scott sits at the piano for a thrilling “A Girl Named Johnny,” before the usual keyboard duo—James Hallawell and Paul Brown—get their chance in the spotlight for “The Pain Within.” They are brilliant in the jam that closes the set.
The encore, however, contains arguably the best moment, as the energy flows through “Medicine Bow.” The tempo shift for Barny Fletcher’s emotional song about the passing of his mother is palpable, and the man who’d been singing backing vocals all night relishes the chance to be centre stage.
That leaves just one more. The band’s anthem, “The Whole of the Moon,” hadn’t been an encore yet on this tour. It was now—and the second city seemed delighted.
There aren’t many bands who’d have done what The Waterboys did here—and even fewer who could have pulled it off like this. For a band with a career into its fifth decade, there’s no hint of playing it safe.
