Going to this concert was like going back in time, feeling 20 again, when I was a goth with studded bracelets, chokers, long black skirts and black eyeliner, nervously hiding the chippy black nail polish on my fingernails, staying up late to lisen to the music in the dark. Dreaming to see the Northern Lights. And my favourite Finnish bands playing live. While most of them I’ve seen at least once, The 69 Eyes were a first for me. I had no clue what to expect from this concert. So here it goes.
I went to the venue without really thinking much about it. I was expecting to be greeted by a crowd of goth girls, ready to scream and faint at the sight of the dark-haired Finns. I was greeted by a crowd that was at least 15-20 years older than my expectations. While the set-up of the event was a minus, what happened after the show begun was an unexpected surprise. They started playing with no delay, being greeted by a somewhat passive crowd that needed to get drawn into the action. And boy, how we were drawn into it! Jyrki 69’s presence on stage is hypnotic, his charisma and stage persona make it impossible to take your eyes off him. He practically hooked us all and took us down memory lane while the band were playing some of their best known tracks, going al the way back to their melancholic goth days and returning to their more recent goth’n’roll sounds. One after the other, the old and new music was warming up the crowd. But nobody was more pumped in that venue than the drummer. Jussi 69 is phenomenal! His drumming, his energy, the way he was standing up and scrutinising the crowd, everything was a treat from his side. And the guys playing their guitars… I can’t put it in words how magical the intro to Wasting the Dawn sounds live, or how well and in tune with each other they all are.
My favourite song from them was the 3rd in the setlist (Betty Blue), but surprisingly, it was Dance D’Amour that made my heart skip a beat and Gotta Rock that made me dance. Around me, the crowd gave the warmest greeting to Gothic Girl and The Chair. There was singing and dancing, cheers for new songs and applause for the golden hits. There were people knowing the lyrics to their new music that acted unimpressed by Feel Berlin. And people who knew every lyric and danced and sung to every tune. And this only made me think that The 69 Eyes seem timeless. That they are and always will still be here, a genuine band, writing music, playing it live, enchanting with both new and old music. And I wonder again why it took me so long to see them live.
And if you managed to read this far, I have to make a disclaimer and say that most of this post, and the pleasure of having seen them live, are enveloped by melancholia, the cold and dark type that they so wonderfully blend in their music. And by a lot of memories of moments when I heard one of their songs for the first time, when I saw their videos on TV late at night on VH1’s Friday Rocks, of places I’ve been or moments I lived while listening to their songs on my mp3 player, my iPod or my Spotify. A walk through time with music. There are a few bands that stuck with me along the way, they are one of them. Kiitos!
This gem of a concert and trip to Rome (maybe I will write about Rome later) were planned well in advance, sometimes during the Summer when the gig was first announced, shortly after my attending two of Mr h’s Holidays in Sweden concerts. I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into, besides the fact that they played together before and it sounded good. Who are they, you ask? Well, Mr h, of course, the singer of Marillion, no need for an introduction anymore, and RanestRane, Italian progressive rock band, another “why haven’t I listened to this before” kind of situation.
After getting lost in the Roman public transport transfer from metro to train, and ending up staring at a sign on the wall pointing to Auditorium Parco della Musica, the venue of the concert, my excitement for the upcoming event grew even stronger. I only had to wait two more days and I filled those with walking around the city with an utmost desire to go in three directions at the same time and see everything. But the evening of the concert, so longed for, came up at the right time, and the walk to the concert hall (named after the Italian composer Ennio Morricone) fell into the usual ritual that such events lock the audience under. Merch secured, seat taken, phone on silent and that was that. 9 pm sharp Mr h stepped onto the stage with his usual grin, cheeky mood, scrutinising the audience, taking the time to say hello, joke a bit, and get right into the music with Thank You Whoever You Are. It didn’t take long and the piano beginning of Afraid of Sunlight rang throughout the hall, followed by White Paper and Leonard Cohen’s “Famous Blue Raincoat“. One after the other, the songs were flowing by our ears, while in front of us was just a man and his piano. Not the usual set-up for a h Natural gig, which, we were explained by the singer himself, was not going to be a usual gig at all, and things were carefully planned and plans needed to be respected.
The four members of RanestRane (Daniele Pomo, Riccardo Romano, Massimo Pomo and Maurizio Meo) stepped on stage during The Deep Water, and joined in playing their instruments (drums/percussion, lost of stuff but mainly the keyboards, acoustic guitar and bass). They played three more songs together (Sounds that Can’t Be Made, Waiting to Happen and Estonia – which I really wanted to hear in this set-up, and which was dedicated to a late fan), before they were joined on stage by the Flowing Chords Choir, who took backing vocals to the next level and completed the sound in a very unexpected way (though the audience was teased with their presence several times before the concert). They swirled through several more songs, with my heart skipping a beat for Nothing to Declare, they nailed Man of a Thousand Faces and left us wanting more with Easter.
Though I missed the usual and rather intimate connection that Mr h manages to establish with the audience during his solo gigs, the interactions and the laughter, I can’t explain how excited I was to see the band at work on stage, and to discover the surprises that they had in store for us, the audience, for the evening. Now anybody that did their research or has knowledge on who was going up on stage in front of them that evening, knew that no less than excellence was aimed to be delivered. And the delivery itself was to be made with passion on the part of everyone performing, from the focus of the guitar player, to the perfectly timed clinks of the bar chimes, from the rhythm of the bass and the joy of its player to the refractive arrangements of various musical instruments and the glee of singing along each lyric that Riccardo Romano doesn’t shy away from, to the harmonies that the choir scattered on top of it all, and above and beyond to the voice, the presence and the performance that Mr h brings with him in his shows, either individually or as the lead singer of Marillion for 35 years (and one week at the time of the concert). Totally different than a usual h Natural show, unlike the artistry and sound of Marillion, unusual, unexpected, naturally peculiar, as the name of the event announced it while playing on a word game merging the worlds of those involved. In other words, I liked it.
Even though I’ve been to many concerts, and I know that they can’t go on and on, as much as I want to sit and listen for hours in a row, the final moments always leave a void in my stomach and the excited butterflies that flutter around the moments before the shows start are long gone. A meet-and-greet, a thank you, a word of appreciation shared can lift spirits and make dreams come true, but can’t match the magic of the moments when the music is live and loud and flowing.
After weeks of careful planning and getting ready, it was almost time to start packing for my train trip down to Germany, excited to see one of my favourite bands again, to take the night train, to meet friends and to visit new places, some of which I have treasured under the form of postcards since my high school days. But… just hours before my departure, because German train driver unions decided to go on strike, my train got cancelled so my 30 seconds of panic were overcome only by the thought that nothing and no one will stand between me and seeing Marillion play live. 15 minutes later my train was rebooked, my holiday rescheduled and my hotel bookings replanned. And the following day after this tiny emotional rollercoaster, I boarded the night train to Hamburg, excited and nervous, and listening to This Train Is My Life on repeat. With my schedule re-shuffled, I had one morning and early afternoon to explore Hamburg, and I chose to go see Miniatur Wunderland, where I really felt like I was in wonderland. Maybe I will write more on that in another post. Maybe not. Soon after, it was time to board my next train to Bremen to catch up with people I haven’t seen in years, laugh, talk, and see bits of the city. This was a brief visit, as the next day I was already on another train heading to Köln. Even if DB managed to delay and re-route the train twice, I was feeling the excitement of approaching Köln. Yes, it was the city where I was going to attend the concert, but it is also home to something that I’ve dreamt of visiting since I was a kid. I kept a postcard I received through mail among my closest and dearest belongings. I kept looking at it thinking that I was going to see it one day. And that day finally came. And in the pouring rain I spent 10 minutes staring at the Köln dome like it was the most amazing cathedral I had ever seen. I am a sucker for gothic architecture, but standing in front of it in the cold, torrential Autumn rain, lit by spotlights, I felt tiny and overwhelmed. And happy. I continued to the hotel, which I specifically booked close to the concert venue, enjoyed a nice dinner that I booked at a place near by (it’s called Shi and the food was delicious), and went to bed early. The second day in Köln was spent visiting the cathedral and wandering the streets, just until it was time to get ready for the concert.
It is amazing how, on a concert day, you see audience members flow down streets from public transportation stations, taxis, bike parkings or simply by walking, drawn to the night. You know where they are going, they know where you are going, you don’t talk but you understand that you are there for the same thing. The venue: Palladium. Huge hall, standing concert, bad visibility from the back, the side view restricted by columns that hold balconies that were not opened for the public. A (somewhat empty) “golden circle” section kept us a bit to the back. People had been there for hours waiting excitedly. I managed to sneak in between some groups to a place from where I could see the stage, and from where I knew that I could sneak in further and deeper into the crowd as the concert went along. A melodic, though a bit depressive opening act (iamthemorning) tried to get us in the mood for Marillion, not that it was needed, but it’s always nice to listen to new music as Marillion has a habit of touring with interesting artists that sound good. Then around 9 pm it was time for the band to go on stage.
They started, as in every gig of this tour, with The Invisible Man which comes with a very theatrical performance. I liked it as an opening piece, it is a good hook to get people into the moment. It was followed by Easter, which probably came a bit too early in the setlist. This song is usually a crowd-pleaser, but this time I feel it didn’t get enough attention from us, as it obviously deserves. After Mr. h’s Summer gigs in Sweden, I got stuck on quite a lot of songs, Sounds that Can’t Be Made being one of them. I was so happy to hear it live again. I think that one of the nice things about the Marillion concerts, for me, is that I don’t know all of their songs, a few of them always catch my attention because they sound unfamiliar, or I haven’t listened to them enough. This was Sounds… last Summer, and Beyond You this time, alongside Lucky Man, Splintering Heart and King, which I know that I’ve listened to but they never caught on or not like Map of the World, the following song, did from the first time I heard it years ago. On to Reprogram the Gene and here we were listening to songs from their latest album, which will soon turn two. It’s unreal that two years have passed already and that the band announced that next year they will start working on new material. Quartz was the song where I finally took out my phone and started taking some pictures. The good thing about it is that it had a really nice background on the screen behind the band, the not so good thing about it is that it’s not one of my favourite tracks, however, people seem to enjoy it quite a bit. It’s nice to have close to ten minutes to observe other aspects of the event rather than taking in every sound coming from the direction of the stage. The Crow and the Nightingale, an emotional ballad with beautiful lyrics and a scent of Leonard Cohen, also coming from their latest album, led us to Care, a four-parts track that closes An Hour Before It’s Dark, the same album released in 2022, a beautiful melodic piece that flows with emotions, carried by the keyboards and h’s voice, with powerful lyrics and a wholesome composition. Or at least that’s how I perceive it. And I totally fell for it after listening to its last part at Mr. h’s gigs last Summer, where you could hear the raw melody of Angels on Earth delivered by only his voice and some piano chords.
And then it was time for the first encore: Splintering Heart and, to my joy, Neverland, played after Mr. h told us that they would have liked to play Gaza on this tour, but chose not to, as to not bring everyone down. I already added the first track to the list of songs that I was not very familiar with, but Neverland is another story. From the first notes, to the lights, to the lyrics, the piano part, having the chance last Summer to hear the story of how the song was written, the audience’s total silence, almost no phone in sight, everyone listening, and the explosion of cheer after Steve Rothery’s guitar part and after the song’s ending. Definitely one of their best live pieces. And one of the songs that yes, I got stuck to after hearing it live for the first time. Because you cannot truly like it until you hear it live. I was totally lost in it.
Quick break for us to cheer and demand more, and after a short fun jam of Seven Nation Army, we got King as an evening closure. A very rock’n’roll piece to close with, a performance that sees Mr. h grabbing a guitar and joining in on the fun alongside Steve Rothery, Mark Kelly, Pete Trewavas and Ian Mosley. And it was over. How did a bit more than two hours pass so fast, I have no clue. It was a great setlist, and yet I know that I would have liked to hear so many more songs. I think that’s the fun thing about the Marillion weekends: you always know that you may get a second chance to hear a favourite, but not in one-evening events. In this situation you need to settle for what you get. After the last goodbyes and thank yous and a nudge to get back to where we belonged, it was time to go home, or to the hotel, same one for many of us, trying to walk back into the life of a regular evening, but knowing that this was nothing close to a regular evening, not even a regular day or a regular trip.
I departed Köln the next day, after a lazy morning at the hotel and a last glimpse at the dome from its front, its side, the Starbucks café while taking shelter from the rain, and the train window. I boarded a train going back to Hamburg thinking to myself: what a fantastic place I visited!
Last weekend it was time to immerse myself again into the beautiful music of Marillion. This time it was to listen to their older works, performed flawlessly, as I was about to find out, by The Steve Rothery Band. Steve R. is Marillion’s guitarist, and he takes the opportunity to celebrate Marillion’s early releases by performing them together with an amazing bunch of talented musicians, which are, obviously, not his regular band mates. We had the privilege to attend two consecutive concerts and listen to songs from The Ghosts of Pripyat, his 2014 solo album, the full Misplaced Childhood on the first evening, the full Clutching at Straws on the second evening, as well as songs from Fugazi and Script for a Jester’s Tear.
Fryshuset Klubben has a capacity of maximum 800 people. The first evening the venue was packed. I am certain that everybody came particularly to listen to Misplaced Childhood, which is the band’s most successful and well known album. From the first notes of The Ghosts of Pripyat I knew I was in the right place. A fully instrumental 3 opening tracks got us into the mood and pumped us up for what was about to be a trip down musical-memory lane to 1985. The whole set of Misplaced Childhood was more of a sing-along and the artists delivered a perfect performance. A lot of laughter, interaction with the crowd and passion on both sides. The songs were flowing one after the other and it was quickly time to say goodbye to Misplaced Childhood and get ready for the final tracks before the encore. The first song to make us snap out of it was Assassing which sounded amazing and made all of us dance. It was followed by Jigsaw, Freaks, Incubus, Garden Party (I must say I enjoy the video more than the song itself) and Market Square Heroes. And just like that the evening was over.
The second evening had a slightly smaller audience, which I honestly didn’t quite understand, as Clutching at Straws is a great album. While Misplaced Childhood is a bit more catchy, this album is a bit darker, with maybe a bit of a more complex composition, more intertwined sounds and a deeper grip on the listener. Or at least this is how I hear it. While the evening started with a few more songs from The Ghosts of Pripyat, with Morpheus opening the night again, the continuation into the full-album moment of the evening caught me completely, and it was easy to disconnect from everything and just breathe in the music. I figured out quite early in the setlist that I was enjoying this second evening better, and I was breathlessly waiting to hear live all the familiar songs on the album. And somehow I enjoyed the closing tracks of the second show better than the ones they played the previous evening (Cinderella Search, Script for a Jester’s Tear, Grendel and Fugazi). Were my expectations for the first evening too high? Did it take everybody a whole day to warm up? Or is simply Clutching at Straws‘ grip on me? People around me seemed to have enjoyed the first evening more. Maybe live Misplaced has more guitar solos that Steve R. hypnotises us with, while Clutching is more homogenous as a musical piece? Or maybe I just like it more, hence the stronger impression the second night made on me. Lots of brilliant keyboard parts in this one though and an impeccable performance on that from Riccardo Romano. And so many good vibes from David Foster whose smile and good mood was contagious. And they are the two new artists added to my playlists after this weekend. Great vocals and a total privilege to see Steve R. at the centre of the stage and hear him joke and interact with us.
To me Marillion has the voice of Mr. h, their live performances is what got me so caught up in this. But this was not about that Marillion. This was about a small stage holding in its middle a titan of a guitar player whose talent is surpassed only by the incredible sounds that he creates with his guitar, a singer who is a walking miracle (Martin Jakubski), a focused bass player who exchanges messages in gazes and rhythm (Yatim Halim), an invisible drummer whose only presence on stage is given away by the drum set and regular beats (Leon Parr), a guitarist having the best time of his life on stage while making sure the circle of sound is fully closed (David Foster), and a keyboard player spellbound by the music (Riccardo Romano)… and me by him and everything else.
Befalling 