Behold the pied piper of English art rock.
Revered prog-rock icon, 73-year-old Peter Gabriel, started his new i/o tour in Tauron Arena, Kraków, last night. His music since leaving Genesis in ’75 has rarely been predictable, and his 4-decade-long solo career has always been required listening: genre-defying, experimental, musically diverse and ambitious, bristling with political/social commentary and wry wit. This was reflected in tonight’s live set – a mix of outrageously ostentatious 80’s stadium pomp (including keytars), rich and luscious strings filled in the honeyed foundation of many other tracks that were bubbling over with aching reflection, stirring up the kind of unflinching intimacy that can cast an audience of 15,000 souls in a trance. Behold the pied piper of English art rock.
A world class cast of incredible musicians surrounded him, including legendary drummer Manu Katché, David Rhodes, and the silky skills of King Crimson’s Tony Levin – all long-standing members of Gabriel’s band. For this tour there were also two string musicians that deserve particular attention: the sublime cellist Ayanna Witter-Johnson (also playing keyboards and on backing vocal duties) and Marina Moore (violin/viola and backing vocals), special mention to Josh Shpak’s gyrating and mute-led Trumpet-playing – a cacophonous feast for the ears.
All photos by Norbert Burkowski (No.Photos) for Kraków Music and Poland Music.
The message is clear: don’t be afraid, stand up for what you believe, and be the change you want to see.
Highlights included some of the songs from the yet to be released album i/o, particularly the new singles Panopticom and Four Kinds of Horses, the otherworldly backing vocals from Witter-Johnson and Moore soaring high. Gabriel’s always collaborated with the finest of vocalists – tonight was no exception. Many of the newer songs sound better in a live habitat – more rounded, angular, edgier. The plaintive Playing for Time was touching – showcasing a man in his eighth decade who is doing plenty of reminiscing, contemplating the past, living in the grace of the present, the future taking care of itself. He also threw in the odd classic from an extensive back catalogue – the cathartic Digging in the Dirt, the horny and hilarious Sledgehammer, and the magnificently divine duet Don’t Give Up – a truly transcendental moment and quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard live. Kate Bush’s original fragile vocal is handled with reverence by the talented Witter-Johnson, while being confident enough to inject it with her own unique flourishes too. Red Rain was a juggernaut of Levin’s melting bass, a monstrously decadent fatberg of sound, a song as technical as any on the set list, executed to absolute precision by the band. Incredibly, Gabriel’s vocals show little hint of time whatsoever. “I’m old now, but I’m helped by so much young energy around me. I think the colors we can use now, all the trumpets and strings, reflect my happiness,” he states. When he eventually bursts into the uproariously joyful Solsbury Hill, the folks in the more expensive seats on the ground floor rush to the front as Gabriel boyishly skips around the stage. Suddenly, time melting, a young lad from 1977 is in front of us, a look of pure love on his face, this deep upswelling of nostalgia gushes out over everyone in a euphoric tide. Never thought I’d feel this kind of intensity of emotion in such an impersonal venue.
There are two encores: the magical In Your Eyes, its African-inspired rhythms and lilting chants are as fitting a finale as one could imagine to such a momentous evening. At 2300, as people are leaving, he appears once again to rapturous applause, saying goodbye for good with his political tour-de-force from 1980 – Biko – a eulogy to the murdered anti-apartheid activist, the South African’s sad face and piercing eyes hovering above the stage. Its anthemic chorus is a somber yet defiantly fist-pumping end to the most emotionally charged evening of evenings. Each bandmember leaves the stage – one by one – only Manu Katché remains on the drums. Eventually, he leaves too.
The message is clear: don’t be afraid, stand up for what you believe, and be the change you want to see.
