GIG REVIEWS


Jackie Leven
@ The New Roscoe, Leeds
15.12.08

www.vanguard-online.co.uk

Jackie Leven’s fame is not wide enough for his audiences to include relatives of Sir Lawrence Olivier, since no ‘cease and desist’ orders have been issued to restrict Jackie’s tall tales of drunken afternoons with the elderly actor. But then, this is a man who used to hint that the Princess Of Wales had made a pass at him, so perhaps he is allowed the Falstaffian defence of loveable rogue.

Jackie Leven is one of those cult heroes that just cannot crack big success, no matter how many great songs he writes, despite critical acclaim, steady output and fans that'll turn out wherever and whenever. So, although on this damp winter Tuesday at an out-of-town pub he's playing to about fifty people, if you multiply that by his hundred gigs a year, that's a lot of people.

He's got a formula - a couple of hours, a dozen songs, a dozen of his trademark tales - rambling discursions of all things Leven, whether its life on the road or his favourite poet. Tonight he opens by chatting about his experiences in Naples, where he drew thousands of teenage girls thanks to a rumour he was a friend of Madonna, and Tromso, a less colourful but no less odd place. Then, telling us he needs "a song that makes me feel like I'm in the room”, he sings the recent Another Man's Rain, working in a snippet of Here Comes The Sun at the end. Jackie is very expressive, screwing his voice up, letting it pour, humming, whistling and, occasionally, growling. His guitar work is lovely and uses it all - scraping strings, tapping beats on the body, stretching strings; accompanied by a tapping foot, miked up to make him a double act.

Next up is Elegy For Johnny Cash, another popular one before a tale of how his support act p'd him off - followed by a cover of a song by that support, David Childers. He makes a good job of it but can't redeem the simplistic and superficial sentimentality of the piece. Single Father, the next song is an old favourite with some powerful images (“I've a heart full of headstones"). A new song, His Arms Are Full Of Broken Things, quotes A. E. Housman and Charlotte Meaux and is drawn from next year’s Sir Vincent Lone album (did I mention that Leven writes so many songs that he has an alter ego just so he can release more under different contracts?!) Old favourite, Pourtown, follows before a break.

The second set opens with a picaresque yarn about a transsexual Canadian assassin of his acquaintance before Lovers At The Gun Club. It’s unusual to hear him sing it, since he got Johnny Dowd in to do vocal duties on this, the opening track of his album. Did I mention that Jackie does strange things like this and like hosting a ‘guest track’ on each album from someone else. A very rambling story about trips to the sea to collect coal in his mouth, following an older girl, getting bit by a dog and Izal medicated toilet paper precedes Innocent Railway, a new-ish song rapidly gaining in maturity with live performance. The whole effect gives a picture of how images assemble into a song full of allusions. Olivier Blues contains the unlikely tale mentioned at the outset. Old Homes is very simple but possibly the most emotionally effective song on the last album.

Two non-encores follow, with Jackie making a fair fist of an audience request – Snow In Central Park – a lovely older song. Kings Of Infinite Space is not the Hawkwind number you might imagine, and is a hypnotic soulful amble. Then the promoter, John Keenan, comes on and thanks Rambling Jack Leven. It’s not been a special evening but, after being at tens of his gigs, it’s another solid entertainment from a seasoned performer. Songs have resonated and touched briefly on deep sadnesses in us, while he has offered a surreal form of wise silliness between pieces. These things ought to be billed as ‘An Evening With….’ since we leave replete and late, ready to proselytise the man’s work with friends the next day.


Ross McGibbon



More Jackie Leven on Vanguard Online:

Interview
Album Review - Lovers At The Gun Club
Album Review - Chip Pan Fire
Live Review at Canterbury Fayre Festival