Some old lady from the Red Cross stood at the back of the auditorium, and by the look of the disassembled mass she was going to have a busy night. I had seen younger audiences at an Alan Ayckbourne (sp?) opening night. Never mind.
A short introduction from the speakers and on he came, the Bard himself. I must confess that the last time I'd seen him had been in 1981, and I was expecting to see the broken shell of a once great man. Then I remembered, that's what he'd looked like in 1981. He looked even better in 1997; of all the late-1970's new-wave stars around today, perhaps only Paul Weller has remained nearly this thin. Back to the show.
From the first couple of lines of sarcasm to the end of his set (one and a half hours later), JCC gave the impression of a man completely at ease with his talent; and he has plenty. He was never going to get the geriatrics dancing in the isles, and at one time threatened anyone who left early with the bouncers throwing them back in again. All the old classics were there, Monster From Outer Space, Twat, I Wanna be Yours etc etc. There was some newer stuff straight from his pink marblette notebook; well, it was new on me. All the bad jokes were there too, plus the usual acid-barbed comments on the mundane details of life and living.
Overall then? BRILLIANT, without ever leaving second gear.It won't be sixteen years before I go and see him again.
Review by Adrian Collier