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The bloke sitting behind me in the terraces leaned forward and tapped me on the shoulder. “’scuse me, mate?” he asked, so I ‘scused him. “When’s Rod Stewart on?”
I looked towards the stage. “Rod Stewart?” I asked.
“Yeah. You know, yer man.” He exhaled a wave of booze sodden air over me.
I thought for a moment and then grinned at him. He was either a moron or a windup merchant and either way I wasn’t playing. “Nice try”, I laughed. “He’s on at eight.”
“Who is?”
I pointed at the huge banner hanging from the stadium wall. “Tom Jones”, I said, helpfully.
So it was that I found myself in Gloucester rugby ground last Friday night watching one of the icons of the last half century of music. There comes a point in a musicians’ career where if they’ve been around for long enough they stop being cheesy relics of a bygone age and become cool again. It happened to Ozzy Osbourne after he did The Osbournes, but I’m not sure that Tom Jones ever really went through the uncool stage before being rediscovered by a new generation. When he came on looking remarkably spry for his age – if I’m in that good shape when I’m 72 I’ll look as happy as he does and no mistake – he just seemed so genuinely pleased and happy to be there that you can understand why. I’ve seen a lot of performances by bands and musicians where they’re going through the motions (The Offspring, I’m looking at you) and don’t seem overly fussed so long as they’re getting paid; Sir Tom, on the other hand, plainly enjoys what he’s doing as much as he did fifty years ago and isn’t shy about showing it. Clearly the man lives to sing and what’s more he’s one of the few performers I’ve seen whose voice could be recorded and released as is without any sort of digital jiggery-pokery to make it acceptable.
And what’s more it’s clear that his fans love him. Sitting in that stadium with eight or ten thousand people was probably the friendliest and happiest concert experience I’ve ever had. As Tom said; he’d started his world tour somewhere nice and convenient for the Welsh to come and see him because they always got his tours off to a cracking start, and they didn’t disappoint. When Peter Jackson was filming The Two Towers he went to a test match attended by ten thousand fans and got them to chant to record the depth of sound he needed for the chanting of Sarumans Uruk-Hai army as he addressed them at Orthanc. Imagine, if you will, that scene but imagine Saruman grinning happily as his army sings Why, why, why Delilah and The green, green grass of home and you’ll get something of the experience. I couldn’t help but sing along with them – when I wasn’t laughing too much, anyway. He sang for two solid hours, running through every Tom song you might have ever heard of, including several you’d forgotten were his because they’re just part of the cultural backdrop of the world these days, whilst down on the pitch couples – in fact entire groups of dozens of people – took to their feet to dance swing or quickstep or just incompetently but cheerfully with each other. I’ve never seen that before at any other concert, either.
If you get the chance to see Tom perform, I’ve really got to recommend him. Yes, he’s a relic of the easy-listening age of the sixties and seventies. But he’s been practicing for the last fifty years and when you practice something for that length of time you get really, really good at it.
I looked towards the stage. “Rod Stewart?” I asked.
“Yeah. You know, yer man.” He exhaled a wave of booze sodden air over me.
I thought for a moment and then grinned at him. He was either a moron or a windup merchant and either way I wasn’t playing. “Nice try”, I laughed. “He’s on at eight.”
“Who is?”
I pointed at the huge banner hanging from the stadium wall. “Tom Jones”, I said, helpfully.
So it was that I found myself in Gloucester rugby ground last Friday night watching one of the icons of the last half century of music. There comes a point in a musicians’ career where if they’ve been around for long enough they stop being cheesy relics of a bygone age and become cool again. It happened to Ozzy Osbourne after he did The Osbournes, but I’m not sure that Tom Jones ever really went through the uncool stage before being rediscovered by a new generation. When he came on looking remarkably spry for his age – if I’m in that good shape when I’m 72 I’ll look as happy as he does and no mistake – he just seemed so genuinely pleased and happy to be there that you can understand why. I’ve seen a lot of performances by bands and musicians where they’re going through the motions (The Offspring, I’m looking at you) and don’t seem overly fussed so long as they’re getting paid; Sir Tom, on the other hand, plainly enjoys what he’s doing as much as he did fifty years ago and isn’t shy about showing it. Clearly the man lives to sing and what’s more he’s one of the few performers I’ve seen whose voice could be recorded and released as is without any sort of digital jiggery-pokery to make it acceptable.
And what’s more it’s clear that his fans love him. Sitting in that stadium with eight or ten thousand people was probably the friendliest and happiest concert experience I’ve ever had. As Tom said; he’d started his world tour somewhere nice and convenient for the Welsh to come and see him because they always got his tours off to a cracking start, and they didn’t disappoint. When Peter Jackson was filming The Two Towers he went to a test match attended by ten thousand fans and got them to chant to record the depth of sound he needed for the chanting of Sarumans Uruk-Hai army as he addressed them at Orthanc. Imagine, if you will, that scene but imagine Saruman grinning happily as his army sings Why, why, why Delilah and The green, green grass of home and you’ll get something of the experience. I couldn’t help but sing along with them – when I wasn’t laughing too much, anyway. He sang for two solid hours, running through every Tom song you might have ever heard of, including several you’d forgotten were his because they’re just part of the cultural backdrop of the world these days, whilst down on the pitch couples – in fact entire groups of dozens of people – took to their feet to dance swing or quickstep or just incompetently but cheerfully with each other. I’ve never seen that before at any other concert, either.
If you get the chance to see Tom perform, I’ve really got to recommend him. Yes, he’s a relic of the easy-listening age of the sixties and seventies. But he’s been practicing for the last fifty years and when you practice something for that length of time you get really, really good at it.
