Garyswordz

I had heard much of Jess before, but never seen her perform. I have also lived around Lichfield for almost thirty years, but never seen St Mary’s Church upstairs used as a performance space. So I approached the performance, her final date on a thirty date tour with curiosity, as well as expectation.The venue itself, turns out to be excellent. Unsurprisingly, the acoustics are excellent, the setting grand, yet intimate, perfect for a spoken word performance.

Jess performed to a good -sized crowd that was a little older in age profile than I had anticipated. I felt that her entrance could have been beefed up a little. An MC giving her an energetic welcome, and a prominent “Seven Nation Army” would have drawn the ubiquitous “Oh Jeremy Corbyn” chant from the audience, and started proceedings on a high, but she quickly won the crowd over by sheer force of personality.

I was not entirely sure what to expect, what was performed was unashamedly political, polemical and on point for the largely Corbynista audience. There were extended periods when it felt like we were listening to a political speech, but was none the worse for that. Poetry can be accused of being anodyne, and this was anything but. In centuries gone, poets were often commissioned to produce extended poems about politics, heroes, and anti-heroes. Jess is tapping into that tradition but in a 21st century context.

There is light and shade in her performance, with anecdotes providing between poem interludes. The story of how her Labour supporting family found a way to inflate LibDem election expenses, and the story and poem of her noisy neighbours delighted and entertained in equal measure. Delivering a one hour show, solo is no easy task. Jess succeeded with her BBC Slam Championship winning material, charm and verbal and textual dexterity.

She closed with “Jeremy Corbyn is 68 going on Sexy” which is a tremendous performance piece, but as she reflected in her introduction can be dangerously misinterpreted if its tongue in cheek nature is taken out of context. The closing film clip of Corbyn meeting her and endorsing the book was perfect. You do not have to be a rabid Corbynista to enjoy the show, there was plenty of excellent merchandise, but no pamphlets on Soviet Tractor Production figures, pictures of Mao on the walls were notable by their absence. All you have to do is be prepared to listen to one of the best spoken word performers around right now.
A great show, a fine performer. As she gains traction production values will improve still further.

As a young man I became accustomed to rock stars dying, Elvis Presley, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix and Ronnie Van Zandt ( the latter of whom I saw play live) most notably. It seemed distant, and there was always so much more coming to replace them. Like a teenage romance, they were quickly replaced. As old age beckons the conveyor belt of deaths amongst my musical peers increases. News of their demise tugging at my shirt tails. Now it is less about their musical greatness, more about the little patches they occupied in the tapestry of my youth.

Barrie Masters was not the greatest singer, or frontman. Eddie and the Hot Rods were not the greatest band. Indeed there was no “Eddie”. But as a teenager, the jingly jangly, Byrdsesque guitar on their hit record , “Do Anything You Wanna Do” was irresistible. News of his death, aged 63, stopped me for a few moments. The words, the sentiment, empowered me as a teenager, and now he is gone. It was no accident that their two other best songs were “Quit this Town” and a cover of “Get out of Denver”, great teenage records.

I saw them live in 78 at Leeds Uni. It was a difficult time for them. They had earned their spurs as a first division pub rock band, then had to weather the punk explosion, which they didn’t achieve. But headlining, that night, they were terrific. Masters was a consummate performer, prowling the stage, and eking every last ounce of energy out of “Do Anything…”, with the terrace style handclap for the chorus a visceral means of communication between fans and band.

Although they didn’t achieve much else, other than being a respected live act, no mean accolade itself, somehow they mattered, Masters mattered, their hits mattered. And now Barrie has quit this town for the final time.