Casting my mind back into the hazy reaches of my student days, I recall Northumbria University’s Stage Two as the scene of most of my formative gig experiences. Many of 2002’s indie all-stars/also-rans got their claws into me there, including the likes of Seafood, My Vitriol, Easyworld and The Cooper Temple Clause. These days, since Carling (and subsequently O2) planted their flag in Newcastle’s indie scene with the Academy, I’m sad to say I barely manage to get to Northumbria once a year.
So, with the friendly curse of nostalgia already on my mind, it is perhaps fitting that tonight’s visit there was to see Duke Special, an artist as familiar to me as a pair of comfy old slippers. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen him, but it must be rapidly approaching double figures.
And in those few years since I first saw him, I’ve seen him develop from a fabulously ragtag vaudevillian into a far more rounded showman, able to command the complete attention of every member of his perpetually-increasing audience.
Upon Duke’s arrival on stage tonight, I must confess I feared that this growing stature had started to have an adverse affect on his unique stage shows. For you see, he was not accompanied by Chip Bailey, his percussion genius, the loveable lunatic whose inventory includes cheese graters and whisks. Instead, for the first time I can recall, Duke was followed out by a conventional band, with a drummer, guitarist and bassist (albeit a double bass).
By worrying that this set-up meant that he was pandering to the masses, however, I did the Duke a great disservice. As ever, his performance was completely captivating and the slightly more traditional band arrangement augmented, rather than diluted his fantastic catchy melodies.
What we are dealing with in Duke Special is one of pop’s last great eccentrics. A soft-spoken, dreadlocked man from Belfast who sips red wine on stage and takes most of his backing samples from a record player which sits atop his piano. A man who recently recorded a live EP directly to vinyl and distributed them straight after the show (apparently making him the first to do this in over thirty years). And someone whose most recent project is a collection of songs based on the 12 films of obscure ‘20s film star Hector Mann.
Three of these songs were played tonight, and the standout was ‘The Jockey Club (A Bitch Called Wanda)’ a typically jaunty, witty song, which tells the tale of a waiter in an exclusive California club. He falls for a champion female pilot who visits the club, and, of course ends up getting the girl, fulfilling his wish for “crazy day trips, with my darling aviatrix”.
The rest of the show was a trawl through Duke’s burgeoning back catalogue, veering from the piano-hammering crowd-pleasers such as ‘Salvation Tambourine’ and ‘Last Night I Nearly Died’ to the arguably more substantial and fulfilling recent songs like ‘I Never Thought This Day Would Come (But Now it Won’t Go Away)’. There were plenty of tear-jerking moments too, none more so than the stark performance of ‘Why Does Anybody Love At All?’
Towards the end Duke, ever the collaborative spirit, invited the wonderful support act Foreign Slippers to join him and the band. Her incredible voice, with its capability to pin you to the floor in the same way as the likes of Martha Wainwright and Joan Wasser adorned ‘Freewheel’. It was one of the highlights of the show, as her singing almost put even the Duke’s honeyed tones to shame.
One thing Duke Special is always going to struggle with is capturing the feel of his live shows on record. His gigs are more than the sum of their parts, because he and his various associates are able to create a certain special mood that I‘ve yet to experience from another artist. He’s able to make his audience feel that every show is a one-off experience, which is incredible considering how frequently he tours.
This point was exemplified by the way the gig ended tonight. Rather than the traditional encore and goodnight, the band decided to pitch right out into the middle of the crowd (double bass and all, but thankfully with spoons replacing drums). They then sat us down, and engaged the whole room in a singalong sea shanty. This finished the evening on an appropriately high note, sending everyone off into the night with a smile, which is the only expression it is possible to wear on leaving a Duke Special show.
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