Just Yesterday: An Al Stewart Retrospective

Laurie over at Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans did a post about Al Stewart in which she suggested that I do a post compiling the links to my Al Stewart concert reviews. On the off chance someone follows her link over here, here it is:

In MY SHOCKING CONFESSION!!!, I let the cat out of the bag regarding my unnatural fondness for Al Stewart's music. And then I proceeded to post reviews that I'd written of some of Al's past shows, like Al Stewart: May 26, 2001, Austin, Texas, and Al Stewart: September 2002, Austin, Texas, and Al Stewart: July 11, 2003, Houston, Texas. Then I felt the need to explain what I'd just posted in my aptly titled post, MY SHOCKING CONFESSION!!! explained. And then a few months later, I saw a couple Al shows in Houston, and I wrote a few words about Al Stewart at the Mucky Duck, September 8, 2005, and Al Stewart at the Mucky Duck, September 9, 2005.

I've also done a few album reviews over the years, and I've decided to include them here in the interest of completeness. Those would be Time Passages Live, Live at the Roxy Los Angeles 1981, and Orange/Past Present Future/Modern Times.

Although I've never gotten around to reviewing them (hence the links to Amazon), Year of the Cat and Time Passages are both great albums, but anyone who was alive during the 1970s should already know that. There's not a bad track on either (although some fans find "Song on the Radio" on Time Passages to be too "commercial").

There are also couple lesser-known albums that I haven't gotten around to reviewing but that I highly recommend. One is Between the Wars, which Al once told me he thought was his best album. I tend to agree:



The other is A Beach Full of Shells, which came out just recently and is really really good:



Finally, anyone who's interested in going a bit deeper would do well to pick up a copy of Just Yesterday from Amazon's UK site. It really is an excellent set, and it contains a lot of good stuff from albums that have been out of print for years. The packaging is about as nice as I've seen too. It's in book form with 70 pages of pictures and text and pockets for the discs.



It's $90 on Amazon.com, or about $60+shipping from some of the other Amazon sellers, but the best way to get it is from Amazon.co.uk (which is where I got mine). For U.S. orders, the total with shipping and after deducting the VAT is £26.03, or just a little under $50. And apart from being cheaper, it's fun to get a package from overseas now and then.

If $50 seems like too much to spend on a set from a guy who hasn't had a hit since the 70s, there's a shorter two disc anthology called Piece of Yesterday: The Anthology that can be had for about $20 on Amazon, or a little less (even with overseas shipping) from Amazon.co.uk.

Time Passages Live

As the name implies, Time Passages Live is one of Al Stewart's live albums, although it is not, as the name suggests, a live version of his album Time Passages. It's not currently in print, but it appears in full in the highly recommended Just Yesterday box set. For some reason, at one time I felt a need to write a review of it on Amazon. Not much of a review really, but in the interest of completeness, I'm including it here anyway. I said something like this:

This is a CD release of a limited production 1978 promotional LP officially titled "The Live Radio Concert Album" and known among fans as "The Blue Album." It's an excellent performance recorded at the height of Stewart's commercial success. No fan should be without it.

The initial release of this CD had a misprint on the spine of the CD case-- it says "TTIME PASSAGES LIVE." BMG has apparently pulled these from the market causing availability problems.

The track list is: (1) On the Border; (2) Sirens of Titan; (3) Time Passages; (4) Roads to Moscow; (5) Life in Dark Water; (6) Valentina Way; (7) Year of the Cat; (8) Pink Panther Theme; and (9) Song on the Radio.

Live at the Roxy Los Angeles 1981

Live at the Roxy Los Angeles 1981 is one of Al Stewart's live albums. For some reason, at one time I felt a need to write a review of it on Amazon. And I said something like this:

Live at the Roxy comprises the live tracks from the three-quarters live Indian Summer LP. If you want the studio tracks from Indian Summer on CD, you have two choices, and they're both 24 Carrots. The U.S. Razor and Tie edition of 24 Carrots gives you three bonus tracks ("Indian Summer," "Pandora" and "Here in Angola"), while the U.K. EMI release has all five (adding "Delia's Gone and ""Princess Olivia"). Unfortunately, both versions of 24 Carrots are long out of print and can get pretty pricey.

Al Stewart recorded some truly great studio albums during the 1970s, but he was and is at his best live. And Live at the Roxy contains excellent live versions of all of Al Stewart's commercial hits plus a few others that didn't get played on the radio, but are nonetheless fine songs. The quality of the recordings is excellent and the performances are very lively and tend to surpass the original studio versions. "Running Man," "Soho (Needless to Say)," and "Roads to Moscow" are real standouts in this area.

The only flaw in this otherwise impeccable album is "Clarence Frogman Henry," which is a bit of a shaggy dog story that gives a bit of the flavor of the between-songs banter at Stewart's concerts, but unlike the songs, once you've heard it once, it ceases to be of any interest. But it's short and easy to skip, and the rest of the album is superb.

Orange/Past Present Future/Modern TImes

Orange/Past Present Future/Modern TImes

This is a budget priced collection of three of Al Stewart's lesser-known albums. For some reason, at one time I felt a need to write a review of it on Amazon. And I said something like this:

Disc one contains the complete "Orange" and "Past, Present & Future" LPs. Disc two starts with the "Swallow Wind" bonus track and then moves on to the complete "Modern Times" album. The only thing that you don't get with this set that you would get if you bought the CDs individually are two bonus tracks from the BGO release of Modern times--the single version of "News From Spain" and "Elvaston Place," which was the B side of "News from Spain." Since the album version of "News Form Spain is included on "Orange," you only give up one song by buying this set rather than the individual CDs, and that song isn't one that anyone is likely to miss.

The set comes nicely packaged with a booklet that contains the lyrics to all the songs, plus an essay about the three albums. I did not notice any difference in sound quality between this release and the other CD versions that I have heard. That may be because there is no difference, or it could just be me.

The three albums in this set represent a transitional between Al Stewart's early albums (collected in the set "To Whom It May Concern") with their folk-rock relationship angst and his more pop-oriented 70s hits "Year of the Cat" and "Time Passages." The albums included in this set are "Orange" (1972), "Past, Present & Future" (1973), and "Modern Times" (1975).

A lot of people think "Orange" is a great album. I am not among them. Fans of Stewart's early work would certainly like it.

A lot of people also think "Past, Present & Future" is a great album. I would have to agree, and it is the one that earns this set most of its stars. It is definitely among Stewart's best work.

"Modern Times" is a bit of a let down from "Past, Present & Future," but still a very good album with some very good songs. This was the first of three Al Stewart albums produced by Alan Parsons--the others being "Year of the Cat" and "Time Passages." It's not as good as the albums that would follow, but still a very respectable effort.

Al Stewart at the Mucky Duck, September 9, 2005

September 9, 2005 at the Mucky Duck in Houston, Texas. It's Al Stewart and Dave Nachmanoff.

First up was Dave playing "Not What I Expected," accompanied by Mike Lindauer playing his lovely Rick Turner five-string fretless electric bass.

For his next number, Dave played "Glorious," which, he said, had a simple chorus. Sing along if you want; if you don't just sit there. It's a free country.

And in the intro to the next song, he managed to get in a plug for his wife's ceramics business, which you can read about at jensceramics.com. And from there he went into "Thing of Beauty."

He also said that, as Al said last night, audiences hate new songs, which makes it tough being the opening act. Since no one's heard your songs before.

The next song was one that he said he'd written after he got deported from Canada. And it was "A Certain Distance."

At that point, Al entered the stave and Mike left. Al said that he didn't think he was even slightly in tune. He asked for a grace period of 45 seconds.

When his 45 seconds were up, Al played "House of Clocks." Sort of. He looked up from the set list and realized that he was playing original chords. Original to that song. Didn't belong there at all.

And then he started playing a new "jazzy and interesting" chord progression that sounded at times like if could be an intro to "Night Train to Munich." But it wasn't. Al explained that he was fearless and liked to write songs on stage.

Then he repeated the riff.

Then Dave tried it. Al frowned, shook his head and waved him off.

And then they played "Flying Sorcery."

And then more tuning. Al said it was a combination of new strings and not tuning before they came on. After a bit of back-and-forth where Al played a note and then Dave played it, Al said that there are electronic tuners for that sort of thing, but they stubbornly refuse to use them.

They finally got their D-strings synchronized, which Al suggested was the one string that was out of tune. And then he said that he'd just realized that when the bass player came back out, they'd be out of tune again.

But for the time being, it was good enough, and they started into one of those long "guess what's next" intros. It started sounding sort of Soho-ish, but soon became distinctly border-ish, and then became one of those jammin' high energy renditions of "On the Border."

Next, Al said, "We're going to do a swing tune. Audiences sometimes like swing tunes. They did last night." And they played "Night Train to Munich."

When they'd finished the song, Al said it was time to find out if the bass was in tune. He also said that the bass player didn't know the songs; he'd never heard them before. But then, none of them knew the next song.

Al said that he wanted to write a country rock because he was coming to Texas. But a country rock song needs a chorus. Al said he doesn't use that; he uses plot and character development instead. But he did it anyway.

He said he'd written the song a couple days ago. It's set in 1934. It's about a girl ripping you off.

And then there was a bit more tuning to get Mike Lindauer's bass in synch with the other instruments. While this was going on, Al told about Joni Mitchell's computer corrected guitar; no matter how out of tune it is, the computer adjusts the tone so it sounds right.

And then they played the song. It was the song he'd played the night before, the chorus of which contains the line "She asked for water and I went to the well." But this time, one of the lines in the song was "I forgot the words but you'll never know," and it seemed to have a few other improvised lyrics. Good thing it was a country rock song where only the chorus is really important.

Al said the next song was one they knew a little better. It was a song about getting old. Then he told of a trip through the Pacific Northwest, thinking about Henry VIII and his six wives, the first of whom was Catherine of Aragon. And since English people love puns, he couldn't resist "Katherine of Oregon." Then he could do "Anne of Cleveland." It could be a whole series of songs. And they played it. Then Mike again left the stage.

Al said the next song was an old Etruscan song. However, because there's no way to translate Etruscan, he had to guess at the meaning of some of the words. Some of those words ended up being "Time Passages." It sounded like Dave's guitar wasn't quite tuned in synch with Al's, but they somehow made due.

After "Time Passages," the band took a 20-minute break to allow the Mucky Duck to sell more drinks. This also provided a convenient opportunity to deal with the tuning issues. After the break, Al and Dave came back of a properly synched and tuned rendition of "Apple Cider Reconstitution."

Al said he was going back to 1915 for the next two songs. The first took place in Armenia in 1915 and it was, of course, "Rain Barrel." But Al got so carried away with the playing the intro that he for got the words and had to start over. But he got it right the second time through.

Going from Armenia to a beach somewhere in England. "I could tell you where, but I'd have to shoot you," he said, "it's wartime." And he put the capo on the third fret.

Al said that in 1915 it was the consensus that England should invade the Dardanelles--the soft underbelly of Europe--and knock Turkey out of the war. This plan was being pushed by a man named Churchill (who would make appearances in other Al songs). The man in charge, Admiral Fisher (who is featured in another Al song), thought it was a stupid idea and ultimately resigned over it.

One of the men who headed out on this expedition was a young lieutenant who was bitten by a mosquito in Greece and died. He happened to be the most famous poet of his day. He looked sort of like a blond Hugh Grant, only better looking. He began the cult of dead poets and rock stars. His name was Rupert Brooke.

His admirers included Violet Asquith, the daughter of the Prime Minister. She was so passionate about him that she watched from the beach as his ship departed. She ended up marrying a guy named Bonham Carter. Their granddaughter Helena became an actress.

The song is about the way we look at things when we first enter into them, whether they be wars, relationships, or whatever; how we start out thinking "this is going to be great" and end up thinking "what the hell was I thinking?"

And then he played "Somewhere in England 1915."

And after he'd played "Somewhere in England," he said he was going to play a jazzy tune.

Al said that for all musical styles, songs are all held together by their lyrics. He said he had a theory (which no one else subscribes to) that a "baby done you wrong" song is the same regardless of style. It can be done as heavy metal, jazz, blues, ska, but it's all the same. But a song about Rupert Brooke is unique.

And then he played something started out sounding like it might turn into "All Along the Watchtower" but turned out to be "Midas Shadow."

And then Al had a word or two about lyrics writing. Songs with plot and character development, he said, are different from stylistic songs.

Back in the 50s, all it took was four chords (which he played). Then he played an example, Al did the first verse of "Teenager in Love." That's all it took; swooped hair, four chords, and about twenty words total.

Then came the 60s, and instead of twenty words, you needed 300. And then Al, doing his best Bob Dylan (which is better than Dylan), started singing "Like a Rolling Stone."

Then came the 70s, when you could get by with only two words. And Al sang a lie or two from "Staying Alive."

Unfortunately for Al, he left school in 1963, which meant he had to put all those words in. He said he borrowed the beat for the next song from the Bee Gees, and it's all about Soho.

But first he did a verse the 50s version, demonstrating that the whole song could have been done with 20 words. But instead, he said he turned out to be the father of rap. And then he played So (Needless to Say).

During the pause between songs, a waitress delivered a note to Al. It said, among other things, that one of the people at the show thought he was coming to see Cat Stevens. So Al did a little Cat Stevens. Of course, Cat Stevens now goes by Yusuf Islam, but Al worked with him back when he was Steve Adams. (Before becoming Steve Adams, he was Steven Demetre Georgiou.) Oddly, Steve Adams/Cat Stevens' first his was "I love my dog." None of which had anything to do with what came next.

The next song was "Merlin's Time." Dave said that Al played lead guitar on "Merlin's Time" on Dave's soon-to-be-released CD of instrumental versions of Al songs. And Al said, "But does it have this?" and proceeded to play the new riff he made up at the beginning of the show.

Then Mike Lindauer came back for the next song, which was Year of the Cat. Dave's solo was awesome. It ended with strains of "Day Tripper." And when they'd finished that, they left the stage.

But, of course, the crowd wanted more.

The first encore was a request from Dave, and it was "Sand in Your Shoes." Al said he was channeling Bob Dylan when he wrote it, which is why it has all the improvised words.

Someone asked for "Roads to Moscow," but Al declined, having played that the last couple times he'd come to Houston, but he had another song dealing with the same subject matter. A dance song, in fact.

It seems that Al had observed the popularity of dance songs, and thought he'd jump on the bandwagon. And, he said, there are only two reasons why the next song wasn't a number one hit: First, it was about Joseph Stalin, and no one likes Stalin. Second, instead of American dance music, it was Russian dance music.

Although, being Russian dance music, it never made the charts in the U.S., Al said that it stirs something in Dave's Russian roots, compelling him to dance. He can't help himself.

But enough about Dave. Al explained that, like Jimmy Carter, Stalin came from Georgia. In the mid-30s, he decided to get rid of his enemies. But all his enemies were in the same party. It was as if George Bush decided to behead the Republican Senate.

The song takes place in 1937, with all the old Bolsheviks waiting around in hell to torture Stalin for all eternity. The thought of this made them happy, and it made the devil happy, and it made the Russian people happy, and Al said it makes him happy and it should make you happy.

And they played it. And they started out with Dave doing a Russian dance while playing his guitar behind his head, and occasionally breaking into dance throughout the song. There were two changes to the lyrics: "the next few million years" became "the next few trillion years," and the last (or nearly the last) "we will dance," became "HE will dance." The crowd started clapping along, and they played it faster and faster until the song was done.

And when they stopped playing, Al said "Thank you very much. My name is Petula Clark. Thank you very much."

And then it was over. Except for the line to get things signed, which went on for another half hour, at least.

Despite the technical difficulties and occasional memory lapses early on, it was a great show. Everyone seemed to have a good time, including Al and Dave, who took the glitches so well in stride that it seemed almost like they were supposed to be part of the show.






Set List:

Dave's set, accompanied by Mike Lindauer.

"Not What I Expected"
"Glorious"
"Thing of Beauty"
"A Certain Distance"

Al's set, accompanied by Dave.

"House of Clocks"
"Flying Sorcery"
"On the Border"
"Night Train to Munich"
"She Asked for Water (and I Went to the Well)" (with Mike Lindauer on bass)
"Katherine of Oregon" (with Mike Lindauer on bass)

"Time Passages"

"Apple Cider Reconstitution"
"Rain Barrel"
"Somewhere in England 1915"
"Midas Shadow"
"Soho (Needless to Say)"
"Merlin's Time"
"Year of the Cat" (with Mike Lindauer on bass)


Encore:

"Sand in Your Shoes"
"Joe the Georgian"

Al Stewart at the Mucky Duck, September 8, 2005

September 8, 2005 at the Mucky Duck in Houston, Texas. It’s Al Stewart and Dave Nachmanoff.

At 8:00 p.m., more or less sharp, Dave kicked things off with “Square Peg Blues.” After finishing the song, Dave directed our attention to the guy next to him with the big guitar. And that guy was Mike Lindauer, from The Woodlands (a Houston suburb) playing a fretless acoustic bass.

And then it was the title track of “A Certain Distance,” which was, of course, “A Certain Distance.”

When he’d finished that song, Dave explained that he hadn’t always made his living as a musician; he’d once taught philosophy. Dr. Dave, he was. Once upon a time. But he was fortunate to live in California where they have support groups and 12-step programs even for recovering philosophers. But he nevertheless had occasional relapses, and the result of one of those was "Descartes in Amsterdam."

The next song was one that he wrote during his brother’s wedding. Well, not actually during the wedding. And he didn’t exactly write it himself. He wrote it in collaboration with his brothers Jeffrey and Michael, one of whom is a lawyer and the other a screenwriter (“The Day After Tomorrow” was mentioned). The song was “Grateful.”

And that was that for Dave’s set. Almost. Dave mentioned that Al had just had a birthday and sort of prodded the crowd to sing “Happy Birthday.” Apparently finding the crowd’s unaided attempt to be limp, disorganized, and wholly unsatisfactory, Dave took charge and led the room in a proper rendition.

And then without further ado Al and Dave went straight into “House of Clocks” (Mr. Lindauer having by then retired from the stage).

Somewhere in there Al asked Neville to find Rusty (the proprietor of the Mucky Duck) to turn up Dave’s guitar. And once they were satisfied with the levels, they played “Flying Sorcery.”

Al commented that the Mucky Duck was moving up market. He said that when he first met Rusty, they had three bottles of Gallo on the wine list. Now they have Dom. (I had their special, a bottle of J Garcia Zinfandel, a quite satisfactory selection. And when that was running low, a bottle of Firesteed Pinot Noir, which was a bit harsh at first, but opened up nicely after breathing for a half an hour).

For his next song, Al said he was reaching back to 1922 for a song from his second album. An album that he said was released in England but not in the U.S. And he told of his first trip to the U.S. He got in the cab and the driver asked him where he was from, and he said “England.” And the driver said “I hate the fuckin’ English.” Al said he spent about a week in New York, and we wrote…. Hmmm… sounds like La Bamba…. But of course, it turned into “In Brooklyn.”

The words to “In Brooklyn” seem to have changed since Love Chronicles came out back in ’22. “Jewish Italian pawnbrokers” has been “Little Italian pawnbrokers” every time I’ve heard him play it over the last few years, and the “coffee that tasted of hot dogs” has been “tea anyway” rather than “cold anyway.” And this time, “records and adverts for cat food” was changed to “records and adverts for blue jeans.”

And then Al had a few words about English rock. It seems that the Americans exported rock to England, and then the English tried to sell it back. And Al felt that he’d really struck a blow for England when the next song hit 42 on the Billboard charts. And then he did a long intro only occasionally hinting at what the song was going to be. But, of course, those in the know immediately pick up the strains of “On the Border,” which is what it turned out to be.

Before they moved on to the next song, Dave plugged his upcoming CD of instrumental versions of Al Stewart songs. That CD is titled “Wordless Rhymes,” which, Al said is a better title than “Useless but Profound.” Dave said he’s saving that for an album of philosophy songs.

Al said that the next song was like a swing tune. Not like a swing tune, it is a swing tune. And it was "Night Train to Munich." And when they were done, Dave said “See? Audiences do like swing.”

And then Al went back to talking about cab drivers. It seems that every cab driver he’s had is from Armenia. Which is also the setting of the next song. But he’s not going to tell them that he wrote a song about them because he’s afraid they’ll declare war on Turkey. And they played “Rain Barrel,” which I thought sounded better with just the two guitars doing the Middle Eastern music.

Al mentioned that “Rain Barrel” was a song from the new album, which he assumed we all had, but if we didn’t, he did. He said that they were gong to play one more song before taking a break. “You can all have a few drinks and we’ll have a few drinks….” Which is why they were doing the songs he didn’t know so well before the break. Which seemed an odd intro to the next song, which was “Time Passages.” And they had fun with it, occasionally striking some of those ‘classic’ Rock n’ Roll poses and generally having a good ol’ time.

And then there was a 20-minute break. Al suggested that everyone order a bottle of Dom Perignon. Said they weren’t going to come back until everyone had ordered two bottles of wine.

Al and Dave were back on stage at 9:30, looking like they were having an even better time than before. (Perhaps he meant that they weren’t coming back until someone bought THEM two bottles of wine.)

The first song after the break was “Gina in the Kings Road,” which ended with “she loves you yeah, yeah, yeah…, yeah.”

Since he’d just sung a song about being young, he said he was going to do one about being old. And he started playing “Deck the Halls.” But only started. Then he told of a trip through the Pacific Northwest, thinking about Henry VIII and his six wives, the first of whom was Catherine of Aragon. Catherine of Aragon. Katherine of Oregon. What a good song title! Of course, the song doesn’t have anything to do with the title, but it was too good a title to throw away. And he played “Katherine of Oregon.”

After that, Al said that sometimes a song is just so undistinctive that no one picks up on it, but this next song had some interesting lyrical things going on. And with Dave somehow making his guitar sound something like a piano, they went into “Midas Shadow,” with Dave doing some pretty fancy guitar work in the break.

The next song started with (or at least contained) the line “It was 1935, I was looking for employment,” and it featured the oft repeated line "She asked for water, And I went to the well." There were hints of “Flying Sorcery” here and there, but not in the chorus. I was stumped. Couldn’t think of what it was. Then he said it was a song he’d written a couple days ago.

Someone picked up on the “1935” from the (possibly) first line of the aforementioned song, but either he or I was a year off on the date, and he asked for that other “1934” song. So Al starts singing:

“The morning is humming, it's a quarter past nine
I should be working down in ….”

“Wait.”

And he went back and tried to figure out what was wrong. The second time through, at “a quarter past nine” he realized that he normally does “The Last Day of June 1934” with a capo. Having straightened that out, he finished the song without a (further) hitch. Stuff like that happens sometimes when you play songs you weren't planning on playing.

After the song, he said, “In case you don’t know who Ernst Roehm was, he was the leader of the Brown Shirts. If you don’t know who they were, I’m not going to tell you.” Or words to that effect. But of course, he did tell. Or at least he gave the short version: They were fighting the communists in the street. They were an unorganized rabble. Hitler replaced them with a more efficient organization, the SS.

Then on a lighter note, they played “Clifton in the Rain” (embellished with some very nice guitar work by Al and Dave), which ended with “A Small Fruit Song.”

Al said he was feeling daring, doing songs he never does. And the next one was a Bruce Springsteen song. Or so he said. It was “Modern Times.” And it was executed flawlessly.


Next up was “Soho (Needless to Say),” and he didn’t even forget any of the words. And how ‘bout those jammin’ guitars. When it was over, Al said he was going to steal that solo from Dave.

And then a bit of noodling on the guitar that turned into “California Dreaming.” Only a few bars, of course. Al said he thought he was making something up. It eventually turned into “Year of the Cat,” which segued into “In the Halls of the Mountain King,” which turned back to “California Dreaming,” and ended with the line “California dreaming... in the year of the cat.”

And Al and Dave left the stage. Of course, the audience wanted more, and Al said he’d drive everyone off by playing a song no one likes but him. One that takes place in 1937. In Hell. Where the victims of Stalin’s purges were sitting around waiting for him. And everyone’s happy about it. Which must be why “Joe the Georgian” is such a happy song. Which is what Al sang, while Dave engaged in all manner of tomfoolery, but never missing a beat, even when he was playing with his guitar behind his head. There was an audience ‘clap along’ with Dave’s solo, and Joe’s term of punishment was extended from “the next few million yeas” to “the next few trillion years.” And then it was over.

As always, Al stayed around after the show to sign whatever people wanted signed, as did Dave.

And, as always, Al and Dave put on a great show.

Speaking of Al Stewart (Again)

It's standing room only for the Al Stewart show at the Mucky Duck on Friday, September 9, but they've just added another show on Thursday the 8th. As with the other show, tickets are $25 and a bargain at twice the price.

Speaking of Al Stewart...

I just got an e-mail notification from The Mucky Duck in Houston. He'll be there Friday, September 9. Tickets are $25, and a bargain at twice the price.

There will also be a show at the Cactus Cafe in Austin on the 10th. The Cacuts Cafe hasn't announced it yet, but alstewart.com has.


Edited to add:

I asked my brother to pick up a couple tickets for me. He said that they said they're going so fast that they might sell out tonight. So if you want tickets, make your way to the Mucky Duck now or get a friend in Houston to get them for you.

It's 2:00 a.m..... (Reprise)

It's 2 A.M......

It's 2 A.M. the fear has gone
I'm sitting here waiting the gun still warm.
Maybe my connection is tired of taking chances
Yeah there's a storm on the loose
Sirens in my head
Wrapped up in silence all circuits are dead.
Cannot decode my whole life spins into a frenzy...

Maybe it's not that dramatic, but you get the point.

Or not. (Incidentally, the credits go to Golden Earring, Twilight Zone.)

And it's really 2:30 now, I don't have a gun (on me), and my only connection is an Internet connection. But the office sure is warm.

And the reason that I'm here at the office at this ungodly hour is that I have work that absolutely positively has to be done today (Monday, that is). It's stuff that I've been trying to get done for the last two weeks, but it just refuses to get done. I even took it to Vegas with me, and it still wouldn't get done. Damn work.

So now it's crunch time, when all the Whos in Whoville are asnooze in their beds, and I generally find the strength to write the briefs of ten Grinches plus two. Which is what I'm counting on happening now.

But that's not why I'm writing.

I'm writing because while I work, I'm listening to a pre-release copy of Al Stewart's latest "A Beach Full of Shells" (available to the general public on June 21). And I thought that, since this is The Most Informative Site on the Net™, I'd take a break from brief writing now and then to give my impressions of the album.



And my first impression is that it's a very pleasant album. I didn't notice that there are any tracks that I'd skip next time I listen to it.

And after a few listens, it only gets better.

Unfortuantely, I suspect that a lot of people would dismiss it as elevator music. Just because it's so easy to listen to.

MY SHOCKING CONFESSION!!! explained

About four posts down, you will find MY SHOCKING CONFESSION!!! that I'm an Al Stewart fan. In keeping with that SHOCKING CONFESSION!!!, I've decided to reproduce here some reviews that I wrote of past Al Stewart shows.

Good thing I'm usng a pseudonym these days. People I know might think I'm more of a **** than they already think I am. (I couldn't think of the right word to put in the **** -- geek? dweeb? nerd? dork? I dunno.)

Al Stewart: July 11, 2003, Houston, Texas.

Houston. July 11, 2003

As always, the show was great. Unfortunately, my pen went out just as I was writing "Antarctica," which was Al's leadoff song, so this won't be one of my trademark fabulous reviews. I'll do the best I can with my fuzzy memory of the evening.

First, the venue: McGonigel's Mucky Duck in Houston. It fancies itself to be an Irish pub. It’s the first place I’ve seen Al where you can get Guinness beef stew served in a crusty bread bowl. Most of those with reserved seats were there when I arrived an hour before the show. The food is quite good, if you like pub fare. For those going to the Sunday show, I’d recommend getting there in time to eat before the show. Order a bottle of wine or two and you’re set for the evening. The menu’s on their website at: http://www.mcgonigels.com

The room itself is small enough that I don’t think you could get a bad seat. If you could get a seat at all. The reserved seats sold out early, and it was standing room only for the latecomers. As of last night, it’s standing room only for the Sunday show as well. I was at the second table in the first row. Not more than ten feet from Al’s mic.

The opener was Hayes Carll. Good singin', good song writin', good banter between the songs. And he's a local boy. He'll be returning to the Mucky Duck on July 25, and I expect I will too.

After Mr. Carll finished his set, a fair amount of time was spent trying to get the sound right for Al’s show. Dave Nachmanoff provided instrumental reinforcement during Al’s show, and they had a bit of trouble getting the proper balance. I made my way to the back of the room and bought his CD. They also had a whole slew of Dave Nachmanoff’s stuff for sale, and the Miramar version of Down In the Cellar (DitC). Al's sidekick Neville Judd was there to handle the DitC sales. He’ll be there Sunday too, so I guess I’ll have to bring my copy of the book to get it signed by Boswell AND Johnson.

Anyway, as I said in the introduction, Al opened with Antarctica. (I lost a bet that he’d open with Flying Sorcery, but I’m going double or nothing on the Sunday show.) But before he did that, he had to dispose of a two glasses of wine that had been left for him on the stage. Apparently there had been a miscommunication with the management, and the drinks that he had intended to have in the dressing room ended up in the wrong place, and he was worried that he’d kick them over during the show. So he asked whether anyone in the audience would like a glass of wine. I didn’t speak up, and someone else got them. Maybe next time.

Now, back to Antarctica…. After he finished the song, Al explained that Scott and Shackleton were British explorers who were trying to get the South Pole, and that Shackleton didn’t make it and Scott made it but died on the way back, but they were both beaten by a Norwegian chap named Amundsen, who made it back by eating his dogs. He said the British explorers never would have done something like that because it’s just not sporting. Which, he said, explains a lot.

Next up was a history song, or more precisely, a song about something on the edge of history. It was, of course, Helen and Cassandra. This was, as we all know, a bonus track on Last Days of the Century. What I didn’t know is that it’s now one of his favorites, but at the time he almost left it off.

Here’s where we ordered the second bottle of wine and my memory gets fuzzy. Some songs might be out of order, and details will be missing. I think the next song was House of Clocks.

Al said he was going to play a song that nobody likes but him. And then he did. And it was Mondo Sinistro. Only, as is typical with Al songs, some sort of strange transformation happens and a song that rates a “skip always” on the recorded version somehow becomes clever or fun or poignant or whatever when it’s performed live. Mondo Sinistro was no exception. He had too much fun playing it for anyone not to like it.

Apple Cider Reconstitution, on the other hand, seemed to me to be an exception to this rule. It was still very good live, but it seemed that there was some spark that was missing. It’s the only time I can think of where I thought the studio version surpassed a live performance.

At one point, Al played a work in progress—a song in which the Immelman Turn. He also explained how these “works in progress” can change over time, and something that started as a song about a flyer can end up being about a German sausage factory. But it’s still the same song. Anyway, for those who weren’t barnstormers of Ace of Aces fans, he explained what it was, more or less. Not in any detail, just that it was a maneuver invented by a World War I German fighter pilot, and that it was picked up by the barnstormers and flying circuses that toured the country after the war in the surplus Curtiss Jennies that they picked up for a song after the war.

Playing this particular song may heave been a little unfair to Dave Nachmanoff since he was being asked to play a song that he’d never heard before. Al played a riff and Dave played it back almost right. After going over it a couple more times, Dave had it down and they played the song. Note to Al: Have your lawyers get with Gordon Lightfoot’s lawyers. There are bits of this song that sounded a LOT like Cherokee Bend. At least it sounded that way to me.

As I’m sure you all know, every singer-songwriter of note has one and only one hit. Al said this one was his. Bum-ba-bum-bum…. Heard it through the Grapevine, of course. It seems that heard it through the Grapevine has become engrafted onto Year of the Cat in the same way that Small Fruit Song has become conjoined with Clifton in the Rain. Which he also played, though I’m sure it’s out of order here. And he also played Soho, Needless to Say. And Laughing into 1939. And On the Border. And Sirens of Titan.

Somewhere along the way Al pointed out that it would be a shame to have the man voted “Songwriter of the Year” and not give him the opportunity to play one of those songs he wrote. So Al surrendered the stage. It seems that Dave had at some point in his life served time as a philosophy instructor. He said that he had been working hard to get over it and step by step had exorcised Kant and Hegel and the modern and medieval philosophers and Plato and Socrates and the presocratics. I don’t know whether it was a relapse or just part of his therapy, but the song he chose to play was Descartes in Amsterdam.

For the first encore, someone shouted out “Sand in your Shoes,” which Al obligingly played. There was a second encore, but I can’t remember which song it was. I’m pretty sure that it’s one of those that I’ve listed, though.

After the show, Al invited the audience to the back of the room for signings and requests for the Sunday show. I already have both versions of DitC, so I looked at Dave Nachmanoff’s stuff instead. I don’t have any of his stuff—or didn’t, anyway—so I picked up a signed copy of “A Certain Distance.” He had a bunch of other CDs there and he said they were 3 for $40 (or $15 each). I told him I’d listen to the one I bought and get back to him on Sunday. So he gave me an official Dave Nachmanoff guitar pick.

By the time I finished talking with Dave and Neville, Al’s autograph line had gotten pretty long, and I ended up being about the second to last. The guy in front had Al sign the back of his “Al Stewart Troubadour” shirt, which he was wearing at the time. I had nothing to get signed, but I did have a couple requests. First, my 8-year-old niece will be at the Sunday show, and Trains is her favorite song. Unfortunately, Al said that he didn’t have the words with him. Then I told him that Coldest Winter in Memory was poised to knock off Roads to Moscow for the top slot on the SOTW rankings. He said to remind him on Sunday and he’d play it.

BTW, he does look in on the SOTW rankings enough to know that “Cleave to Me” was voted his worst song when he played it at an Arizona show.

And that was that.



To the best of my recollection, these are the songs Al played (accompanied by Dave Nachmanoff on all songs), though not necessarily in the order he played them:

Antarctica
Helen and Cassandra
House of Clocks
Apple Cider Reconstitution
Mondo Sinistro
Year of the Cat
Clifton in the Rain/ Small Fruit Song
Soho, Needless to Say
Laughing into 1939
On the Border
Sirens of Titan.
Sand in your Shoes

Al did not play:

Descartes In Amsterdam (Dave Nachmanoff, solo)


If anyone has a better recollection of the song list or the order in which they were played, I’d appreciate any input so I can revise my review. For reasons I don’t understand at all, I keep these things.

Al Stewart: September 2002, Austin, Texas.

THE VENUE

Those of you who have been around for a while might remember my review of Al’s May 26, 2001 show at the Cactus Café in Austin, Texas. For the benefit of those who missed the last review, the Cactus Café is a small, intimate room in the student center on the University of Texas campus. It's a place where a lot of big names in Texas music play for small crowds. As a rule, there are no advance ticket sales. As with last year’s show, this rule held true for Al's show, so the best seats went to whoever showed up first, but even the worst seats are better than good seats most places.

The show started at 8:30. Tickets went on sale at 8:00. I was there at 5:45, about the same time as arrived for the last Austin show. Last time, there was one person in font of me. This time, I was third in line, behind Chris from Dallas (who was behind me last time), and Julieta from San Antonio (whom everyone calls Julie and who was first in line for the last show). We had a couple of hours before the show to get reacquainted. Chris had last seen Al at the St. Louis show. I got the impression that Julie goes to just about every show there is. I think she may be Al’s most enthusiastic fan.

One observation: The Cactus Café is on the University of Texas campus and in the UT student center. But I didn’t see a single person in line who looked like a UT student. Maybe a graduate student making a mid-life career change, but no one who looked like an undergraduate. Good thing, too. There are something like 50,000 students at UT, and if even 55 of them were Al fans, I’d have been lucky to be able to get a ticket at all.

Anyway, the layout of the venue was a bit different from Al’s last show. At the 2001 show, they had taken out all the tables and arranged rows of chairs in an “L” shape around the stage. This time, they left about a half a dozen tables surrounding the stage. Chris, Julie, and I got the one directly in front of) and slightly overlapping) the stage. The stage was less than knee high, and it was not more than six feet from our seats to the microphone. I don’t think seats get any better than that.

I ordered a half a carafe of their finest (and only) merlot, and sat back to enjoy the show.

There were no Black Shirts in evidence.

THE OPENING ACT

Al's special guest (i.e., opening act) was Dirk Hamilton. Hamilton is a local in the Austin sense. He drifted into town 12 years ago and just didn’t get around to leaving. He played a set of six songs. His music was sort of Seegeresque with strong notes of Arlo Guthrie and hints of Joe Cocker and John Mellencamp; unassuming with a clean finish and no discernable aftertaste.

AL'S SHOW

At the last show, Al came bounding onto the stage from the back of the club. This time, he slipped in through a door at the back of the stage. (I’m pretty certain that this door leads to the street, and not to a dressing room or anything like that.). He was greeted with enthusiastic applause. By far the loudest came from Julie, sitting across the table from me. Al took his guitar out of the case and commented on his surprise that it was still in tune. He also commented on the enthusiasm of the crowd. Then he started into what soon developed into Antarctica.

Next up, Al pulled out his trusty capo and secured it on the second fret. He started into one of his older songs—dating all the way back to 1922, or so he said. It was “Rumors of War,” and he played it very well indeed. From there, he went into a real oldie—“Samuel, Oh How You’ve Changed.”

“Samuel,” like most of Al’s early songs, has not been among my favorites. The studio version on Bed Sitter Images always seemed to me to be lifeless and uninteresting. But there was something about the live performance that revealed a true gem. I wonder whether this is because “Samuel” is a much better song than gave it credit for, or If Al could just make anything sound good live. I’d like to hear him do “Disco Duck” sometime.

When he finished with Samuel, Al started into one of his between-songs riffs. And he forgot where he was going. Then he found his way into “On the Border.”

When he’d finished with “On the Border,” someone called out a request for “Age of Rhythm.” As Al moved the capo to the third fret, he explained that he was a good guitarist, and Peter White was a really good guitarist, but only Lawrence Juber could play “Age of Rhythm.” He played a riff from “Lonely People” and embarked on a “Night Train to Munich.”

Early on in the show, Al had asked how many people in the audience had been there for the last Austin show. It looked like about eighty percent. He said that he was going to play a lot of songs from old Al Stewart records. I think he took that as permission to go a little deeper into his catalog than he usually does. The next song was an unreleased track that I had never heard before. I understand it’s working title is “Dark Side of the Street.” It was every bit as good as Samuel.

Next up came what Al described as one of his favorite songs—a song about clocks. And with that he played “House of Clocks.”

“House of Clocks” is a short song, and Al said that he was going to play a long one. From the audience came the obligatory request for “Roads to Moscow.” Al said, “I’ll bow to your superior taste” and played it. Or tried to play it, anyway. Twice he forgot what came next.

You’d think that when a performer forgets the words or loses his place in a song, that it would detract from the performance. That was not the case her. Al handled it with such good-natured charm that, it anything, it actually enhanced the experience.

When the song was over, Al laid the blame for his failure of memory squarely at the feet of Continental Airlines. It seems that Al had booked his flight to Austin for 9/11 (an inauspicious date to be sure), and every hour a new problem with the plane was discovered (or a new excuse concocted), until, after waiting more than five hours at the airport, Al made other arrangements. And course, the Continental flight departed shortly thereafter.

And then Al solicited requests. Someone at the back of the room called out “Dark and Rolling Sea.” I suggested “Maggie Mae.” Someone said “Apple Cider Reconstitution.” There was a “Sampan.” And just about anything else you could think of. Al observed that a number of the requests were for songs that he didn’t know. But the winner, shouted most enthusiastically by on eof the people sharing my table, was “Carol.”

When he finished with Carol, Al said that he hadn’t played that one in a long time (not since it was requested very enthusiastically at the last Austin show, I believe). He said he didn’t have a playlist and again took requests from the audience. This time it was “Flying Sorcery.

When he finished with “Flying Sorcery,” Al put the capo back on the third fret, but then took it off when someone shouted out “End of the Day.” Al found this an agreeable request and played it. But Gordon Bethune (Continental Airlines Chairman and CEO) struck again. Al got stuck and asked what chord came next. Someone in the front very enthusiastically called out the next line, but Al explained he needed the chord, not the words. Then it came to him and he finished the song. He said it was nice to have an opportunity to play songs that he doesn’t know very well.

Next up was “Marion the Chatelaine.” When he finished the song, he explained a bit what it was about—that Marion Davies was an actress and a significant other of William Randolph Hearst, though he never married her, and that David Niven gave her the sobriquet “the Chatelaine” and surreptitiously brought her booze. Then he said that it might have been better to give the explanation before playing the song.

Next came the Bob Dylan impersonation. It turns out Al does a much better Dylan than Dylan himself.

In between Dylan impersonation, Al talked about how folk singers tend to do autobiographical stuff (except Dylan, who did autobiographical stuff that he wouldn’t admit was autobiographical). Then he did his own autobiographical song: “Almost Lucy.” I was sort of surprised, since I always assumed Lucy was a stripper or something. It makes more sense now. Live and learn.

From his folk period, Al moved on to 60s rock. He played various familiar riffs, but kept coming back to “You Really Got Me.” He said that, had he only been two years older, he could have been one of the Kinks. Then another request came from the back of the room, and he played it. And it was “Terminal Eyes,” of all things. And he didn’t forget any of it.

Then Al started playing strains of “Heard it through the Grapevine,” which seems to have replaced “As Time Goes By” as the “Year of the Cat” intro. This I took as a bad sign because it meant the show was almost over. Al played “Year of the Cat” but, when it came time to sing the words ”the year of the cat,” he put his hand to his ear and waited for the audience to sing it. It came as a bit of a surprise the first time around. The second time the audience got it more or less right. The third time, and for the rest of the song, Al sang it himself. Then it was back to the grapevine and then the end of the show.

But of course, that wasn’t really the end. The applause drowned out even the exceedingly enthusiastic fan to my right, and Al consented to play an encore. A number of titles were shouted from the audience, but this time Al took the request from the back of the room and played “The Dark and the Rolling Sea.” (Capo on the third fret, for those who care about such things.)

Those of you who have heard the story of the song on “The Blue Album” or “Ttime Passages Live” will recall that Al described this as a love song. Sort of. Now it’s purely vindictive—turning an ex-girlfriend into the rotten hulk of a ship disappearing in a stream of bubbles as she sinks into the sludge of the seabed where she is eaten by shrimp.

After “The Dark and the Rolling Sea,” Al segued into “The Candidate,” and then into a riff from “Pinball Wizard,” and with that, the show was over. Al announced that he would be available to sign things after the show, and with that he left

Despite Gordon Bethune’s best efforts, it was an absolutely fantastic show. I got the impression that Al knew that this was a crowd that wanted to hear things other than the hits, and he was more than willing to accommodate. It was a uniquely enjoyable experience. Here's the song list:


1. Antarctica
2. Rumors of War
3. Samuel, How You’ve Changed
4. On the Border
5. Night Train to Munich
6. Dark Side of the Street
7. House of Clocks
8. Roads to Moscow
9. Carol
10. Flying Sorcery
11. End of the Day
12. Marion the Chatelaine
13. Almost Lucy
14. Terminal Eyes
15. Year of the Cat

Encore:

1. The Dark and the Rolling Sea
2. The Candidate

POST-SHOW ACTIVITIES

Before he slipped out the back door, Al said that he would be available to sign things. In my case, it was LDOTC, SLAGIATT and BTW. I also had the opportunity to ask him who was responsible for selecting the reviews that were printed inside the gatefold “The Early Years” album. He blamed the record company; said they wanted good reviews and bad reviews. NTTAWWT.

When it was all over, I wished I had asked Al the title to song #6. It was one I've never heard before but, having paid insufficient attention to unofficial releases, mistakenly assumed was "Darkside." Special thanks to Laura G. for coming through with the correct title to “Dark Side of the Street.”


© 2002 by XXXXXXXXXX, all rights reserved, except the following:

This review may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the author, unless it would better serve your purposes to do it that way. On the off chance you think you could make a buck or otherwise benefit from it, go for it. I only ask that proper attribution be made. Unless this would in any way undermine your purposes.

Thank you and good night.

Al Stewart: May 26, 2001, Austin, Texas.

THE VENUE

Al played at the Cactus Café in Austin, Texas on May 26. The Cactus Café is a small, intimate room in the student center on the University of Texas campus. It's a place where a lot of big names in Texas music play for small crowds. As a rule, there are no advance ticket sales. This rule held true for Al's show, so the best seats went to whoever showed up first, but even the worst seats are better than good seats most places.

For Al's show, they took out the tables and put in rows of chairs. It looked like there was seating for around two to three hundred. The show started at 9:00 p.m. and tickets went on sale at 8:15 p.m. We (the Enchantingly Beautiful and Mysterious Lady in Black, our son Christian, and I) drove in from Beaumont (about 250 miles) and were in line by 5:45. There was one party of two ahead of us. The stage was about eight to ten feet square and maybe 18 inches high. The stage was in one corner or the room, and the seats were arranged in an "L" shape around the stage. Our seats were in the first row, directly in front of the stage. We were no more than six feet from the microphone.

Al is Christian's favorite artist and this was his first concert. He listens to Between the Wars a lot, and was hoping to hear "League of Notions."

THE OPENING ACT

Al's special guest (i.e., opening act) was Eliza Gilkyson, the daughter of Baloo from Disney's "Jungle Book." Well, maybe not Baloo per se, but at least the guy who wrote "The Bare Necessities." She put on a great show. Joe Bob says check her out. Here's the song list:

1. Love's Shadow
2. Rose of Sharon
3. Hard Times in Babylon
4. (Let's Just File into the Night? True Companions?)
5. Easy Rider
6. Twisted
7. Beauty Way
8. Coast
9. Welcome Back

AL'S SHOW

Al bounded onto the stage and started straight into "Flying Sorcery." He played it very well indeed. Sometime during this song, someone from Cactus Cafe told the Enchantingly Beautiful and Mysterious Lady in Black "no pictures." We therefore have very few pictures from he show. The ones we do have were taken during the first song and without a flash (we thought the flash would be rude). They are not particularly good.

Next Al played around with "La Bamba" and segued into "In Brooklyn," which he said was about his experiences on his first trip to America. The song didn't suffer for the lack of Jimmy Page's guitar. And, regarding the coffee that tasted of hotdogs, he said "that's okay, mine was tea anyway and just grand." Also, "Jewish Italian pawnbrokers" was changed to "little Italian pawnbrokers."

When he finished with "In Brooklyn," Al gave a nod to the black ASML shirt in the front row and went into "On the Border."

After "On the Border," Al acknowledged the Texas venue and paid tribute to our native music. If only he had a hat, he said, he could have a hit. But alas, it was not to be. Hatless Al did try to write a country song once (how hard could it be?), but the subject matter-the armistice following World War I-apparently didn't strike a chord with a mass audience. That song, of course, was "League of Notions," which was next. Christian was thrilled.

When Al finished with "League of Notions," Christian (who coincidentally was also wearing a black ASML shirt), observed that that there were two voices singing out of sync with each other on the album. Al explained that both voices were his, and that he has a special ability to sing like that with two voices simultaneously. (As I write this, it occurs to me that Al's admitted ability to talk out of both sides of his mouth is really the same as the lawyer's ability to smile with both faces in "License to Steal." I think it should be obvious to everyone that Al really wants to be a lawyer.)

The Enchantingly Beautiful and Mysterious Lady in Black called out "House of Clocks." Al said that the next song was one that most people would not have heard. He said it was a song from the new album, which, he said-for reasons he would explain later-was available everywhere in the world except the U.S. Al also spoke of an old grandfather clock that that had been in his family for quite some time and that he was thinking about bringing back from the UK. Then he thought of an old American song about a grandfather's clock that always kept perfect time but stopped on the day that the old man died.

Having now reached the status of the old man himself, Al wasn't so sure he wanted so much riding on his clock. He played "House of Clocks."

Al then told about a dot-com billionaire who got out of the business at an opportune time, and who had a birthday party to which he invited all the new friends he made after he became a billionaire. None showed up. It seems that there was an earthquake and everyone in LA who was not at the party was killed. The audience cheered. Al got all the words right without even having to stop and think or ask the audience. Or almost right, anyway. Instead of "1961 Margaux and Petrus and Chateau Latour," I'm pretty sure he said "1961 Margaux and Lafite and Chateau Latour."

After playing "The Night that the Band Got the Wine," Al explained the origins of Down in the Cellar (the album, not the song). It seems that he was approached by what he termed a "lifestyle company" to make a CD about wine to promote the California wine industry. He did a sort of Barry White version of what he thought they were looking for and suggested that they weren't really looking for the 700 word song he wrote. He thought they might not have gotten quite what they expected. Anyway, the record company went bankrupt (but somehow still managed to get Alan Parson's new CD out), so Al approached EMI about getting the CD released outside of the US. Much to his surprise, EMI not only picked up the album, but even promoted it, and it is doing quite well in the UK. So now Down in the Cellar is available
everywhere except the country it was made for.

Al also said that, as a result of his new musical direction, fans have started bringing him gifts of wine, which is a good thing. Or not, depending on the wine. If it has a screw cap and has been lying under the couch for the last 46 years, it's probably best to leave it at home.

Al next explained that, although he is relatively new to wine songs, he has long been a chronicler of the British Navy. And with that, he launched into "Old Admirals," followed by Soho (Needless to Say).

Al said that by this point in the show everyone should have realized that they were not going to see Rod. He told us of a radio interview where the DJ kept asking him why he liked blondes so much. Al was perplexed. When he figured out what was going on and suggested that the interviewer might have him confused with Rod Stewart. That was the end of the interview.

Having ascertained that everyone was in the right place and had indeed come to see Al Stewart and not Rod Stewart, and further having surmised that there were people in the audience that might be familiar with his work, he solicited requests from the audience. The winner (Al claimed it was the only one he could hear) was "Clifton in the Rain."

So Al played "Clifton in the Rain" and "Small Fruit Song," which seem to have grown together into a single song over the years, and which particularly delighted the Enchantingly Beautiful and Mysterious Lady in Black.

Al explained the peculiar advantages that a singer/songwriter has after a relationship goes sour. He can write a song about her getting eaten by prawns (he also called them shrimp so the audience would know what he was talking about) and play it night after night, but she'll never know because she doesn't listen to him anymore. Next up was "Dark and Rolling Sea," which, incidentally, is played with a capo on the third fret.

Next Al explained the difference between metaphors and similes, and how it relates to heavy metal versus folk music. Heavy metal is heavy on metaphors-"I am the devil." Folk, on the other hand, leans more toward similes-"I am like the devil." Then he did a song that is very folky because it's just a bunch of similes strung together. And he didn't even forget any of them. It was like a big yellow tractor plowing through a field of hay.

After "Genie on a Tabletop," Al started "Heard it through the Grapevine" intro. The audience was incapable of clapping at the right time, so Al stopped to set the beat for the clapping, then resumed the intro and went into "Year of the Cat." Dick Cheney was cast for the Peter Lorre role. Last time I saw Al was around 1984, and Ronald Reagan got the part. And that was it.

Al left the stage, but was forced to come back and play a couple more songs. For the first encore, he played Waiting for Margaux followed by Antarctica. He again left the stage, but the audience wasn't ready to let him quit yet.

Al came out for a second encore, and someone shouted out "Roads to Moscow." Despite a groan from someone in the first row not connected with me, the boy, or the Enchantingly Beautiful and Mysterious Lady in Black, Al played it. It was great. Then after the song was done, he played the solo. (He said he can play the song or the solo, but not both at the same time.)

When Al took the stage, it was obvious that he was in high spirits and that he was going to have a great time with the show. He was in great form and put on the best show I've ever seen. Even though it was just Al and his guitar, the show was even better than the times I've seen him in the past with a full band. Here's the song list:

1. Flying Sorcery
2. In Brooklyn
3. On the Border
4. League of Notions
5. House of Clocks
6. The Night that the Band Got the Wine
7. Old Admirals
8. Soho (Needless to Say)
9. Clifton in the Rain/Small Fruit Song
10. Genie on a Tabletop
11. Year of the Cat

12. Waiting for Margaux
13. Antarctica

14. Roads to Moscow

POST-SHOW ACTIVITIES

After the show, Al stayed around to sign autographs. I asked him when would be an appropriate time to drink a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1995, which I just happened to pick up in Houston on the way to the show. He said to come around again about 2010. Rats. Anyway, we got a couple things signed, and the Enchantingly Beautiful and Mysterious Lady in Black and Christian got their pictures taken with Al, and I got some recommendations on what to buy of the 2000 Bordeaux. All in all, you couldn't ask for a better time.

MY SHOCKING CONFESSION!!!

In keeping with the explanation of the House of Pancakes, I'm up late and working on the second bottle of wine. And for some reason (probably connected with the music I'm listening to at the moment), I feel moved to make a SHOCKING CONFESSION!!!! And here it is:

I think Al Stewart is about the best thing since sliced bread. As I write, I'm listening to "League of Notions" from the long out of print album "Between the Wars." Who else would write a song about the armistice after World War One, in a semi-Country style, and then end it with a Latin phrase?

He sometimes plays at the Mucky Duck in Houston. And sometimes at Cactus Cafe in Austin. Either way, it's more than worth the trip. I think I've mentioned him tangentially before (as in Hayes Carll opened for him), but I don't believe I've ever just come out and said how gosh darn good he is.

He's really quite good in concert. In the Willie Nelson review, I had to qualify the "best concert I've ever seen" with "or pretty darn close, anyway" because I've yet to see someone do it better than Al. (But then, I'm an Al Stewart fan, and Al plays small rooms, whereas I'm not a Willie Nelson fan and Willie plays in places bigger than I like.) Anyway, Al has a new album coming out shortly, so I'm going to give it a plug here. It's called Beach Full of Shells. I don't know why its called that. I'm sure it's a literary reference that I don't get. Or something. Anyway, I've heard a couple of the tracks-in-progress in concert. It should be good. I pre-ordered mine from a fan site for about a few bucks more than Amazon (if you're paying Amazon's shipping) because it comes with an opportunity to purchase an exclusive limited edition unreleased track that didn't make the album. (You may laugh, but last exclusive limited edition Al Stewart release like this has sold for as much as $300 on eBay and regularly sells for $70-$100.)

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Now here's the problem with the "second bottle of wine" thing. My mind tends to wander. And it's wandered. (Actually, it wandered a while ago when the song changed. I wrote what's below back then and came back to finish what's above. I'm actually listening to Blue Oyster Cult, "Burning for You" at the moment, but it doesn't inspire me to write anything.)

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But "League of Notions" ended. Now it's Billy Joel singing "Piano Man." And there's that line about "John at the bar is a friend of mine; gets me my drinks for free...." That's the job I'd rather have--John at the bar. But then there's that line where John says "Bill I believe this is killing me, as the smile ran away from his face." I notice that happens to me a lot (the "smile ran away from his face" thing), but I don't think I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place. I just want to be John at the bar. Funny how things work out. The grass is always greener, I guess.