John Otway and the Big Band
THE faintly nauseous smell of fresh paint greeted us as we filed in to see the legend that is John Otway.
Nice one Weymouth Pavilion! Not the best atmosphere.
Then there were the tables all laid out like we were at a holiday camp evening cabaret with the house lights kept on throughout the gig.
What on earth are they thinking here?
I suppose most of us are at an age where standing up is simply too much for an entire performance.
And we need to make sure we don’t knock our precious beers over.
But poor Mr Otway looking like Max Wall and trying to create an intimate gig feeling in Ocean Rooms.
Battling against a muddy sound from the off which did sort of resolve itself he nevertheless performed a two-hour set of raucous and often hilarious crock and roll with his bandmates who all looked well past their sell-by date.
He still does his trademark forward rolls with his guitar and House of the Rising Sun remains the standout song with its call and response audience participation.
Then there is his theremin which is bonkers but very funny.
But at the end of the day we are just celebrating the thwarted ambition of a man who has made a career out of self-deprecating humour and musical failure.
It’s a comforting musical cul-de-sac which so typifies the English characteristic of worshipping the underdog.
GRAHAM JAMES
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