Fish - The Corn Exchange Haddington, 2nd Night, 19th February 2025

Fish is a big cult.

He has a very devout following who have immersed themselves in his scriptures for a long time and this is where they often used to gather as a Company for fan conventions and special shows. Back in 2006, attendees received a laminated lanyard. Tonight, the second and final night of a two-night home town farewell, they only got a high-viz wrist band, but that granted access to a very special show indeed; one that will live long in the memory, even after the character of “Fish” has been killed off.

It was an intimate gig in front of 700 family members, local fans, Fish on Friday devotees and loyal Fish-heads that had travelled from near and far to be here. Those who attended both nights were amply rewarded with two completely different set lists, each rammed with classic tunes, quality musicianship and deep-cut surprises. Only one song was repeated and it was the one that most characterises the shared bond between this performer and his audience.

‘Credo’ was an instant kick-starter, with full-throated engagement and syncopated hand-claps from the congregation from the outset, although the “to me; to you” vocal call-back choreography always makes me chuckle. Despite communal lyrical protestations to the contrary, you could tell it meant the world to those in attendance just to be there.

Next it was ‘Big Wedge’ and ‘Long Cold Day’. None of the opening three songs needed any introduction to these people and they didn’t get one. When he did speak, the big man seemed jovial and relaxed, pointing out that he was 66-years-old and drinking water. Aye, but you were spotted in The Plough at the back of seven fella!

The Corn Exchange is a lovely old listed-building dating back to 1854 but it’s been updated, and from the marked-out badminton court where I was standing, it looked and sounded brilliant. We’re in Haddington, a lovely Royal Burgh on the banks of the River Tyne, because that is where Fish has lived and worked since around 1988. Not for much longer though, as we all know that he and his wife Simone are casting away to the Outer Hebrides. That’s what nearly 50 years in the music business, and even longer supporting Hibs, can drive a man to do.

The studio in Haddington is where Fish and his musical co-conspirators have written most of his songs. As he pointed out when introducing ‘A Feast of Consequences’, it seems like most of those songs have been about lost love, broken hearts and failed relationships. He asked for a show of hands from those who had been through a divorce and there were quite a lot, including the guy in front of me holding up both hands and looking for a third.

Fish can’t play all of the songs in his back catalogue, but he did confess that he had carefully created the set lists for this tour based on the ones he really wanted to sing one last time rather than those that we might like to hear. Fair enough I suppose; they’re his songs and he’s earned the right, but you can’t help wondering if that attitude is also a part of the reason why he’s had so many break-ups? If he ever writes that auto-biography, maybe we’ll find out.

‘Cliché’, from ‘Vigil’ is apparently his one attempt at writing a genuine love song, but according to him, between leaving the studio and the album being released, the object of his affection started an affair with someone else. I guess you never stop needing that mother’s kiss on a broken heart and a warm wet circle but that’s a song for another day, although that day will probably never come.

Before that, he presented ‘Goldfish & Clowns’; a delightful deep-cut from ‘Sunsets on Empire’, but judging by the howls, there were only a couple of werewolves in attendance. The song was a delight throughout and the band’s performance was enthralling, with Elisabeth Troy Antwi really adding depth on backing vocals and tunic.

Many aspects of the Fish and Derek’s soul, psyche and personality have been laid bare for our entertainment over the years. With and without the face-paint and mask, he’s been on display as a lover, a loser, a poet and a seanachaidh, a grouch, a comedian, a warm and jovial raconteur, an impassioned proclaimer, a man with a unique and compelling way with the words and story-telling, and an all-round big-time rock god. He displays the “Grumpy Ayatollah of Prog” side when scowling at those wielding camera phones but there was also an amusing anecdote about a BT engineer and a cracker about his book-keeper, and he knows his people; addressing some directly and making sure that a fan who felt temporarily unwell was taken care of. It was very warm in there and happily the chap recovered to enjoy the rest of the show from the back of the hall.

The absolute unicorn in the set, and an unexpected delight, came when the big man announced that he was pulling one “out of the grave”. That turned out to be ‘Incubus’ from ‘Fugazi’ – a tortured tale from the emotionally fraught bed-sit days that must have excavated deeply-buried feelings in some, judging by the sight of grown men weeping silently as the pseudo-Shakespearean porno tragedy unfolded. For a few, “nursing an erection” may now be harder to achieve, but the images still remain. It was an absolute triumph and a show-stopper, deserving of its fierce and prolonged ovation.

At the end, Fish simply said “that was fun” and it looked like he meant it. Yes, Fish – it was fun. Maybe he could have gone “grave-digging” just a wee bit more over the years, but it’s nearly too late now. Fair enough, it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away and he’s not been in that band for decades, but folks still love that stuff – really, really love it, in fact. I’m sure Fish does understand the power of nostalgia and fond remembrances; after all, he has individually named the sheep on his island after a football team from season 1972/73.

On this Road to the Isles Tour, Fish has generally placed one of his longer “suites” at the core of the set. The previous night it had been ‘The High Wood’ from ‘A Feast of Consequences’. Tonight, it was the 6-part ‘Plague of Ghosts’ from ‘Raingods with Zippos’ which he “Fishsplained” had been over-looked in some parts, but he wanted to play it because “its really important”. He didn’t say who it was important to, or perhaps who it should be important to, but I think it was understood.

Fish seems to have always had a tendency towards the morose, and like a prog rock-Morrissey, this piece was apparently inspired by the book ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’. It is musically complex but stunning, and meanders through the phases, most noticeably a dramatic and captivating Attenborough-esque spoken word segment that is ostensibly about chocolate frogs, but of course, there is so much more to it than that. It was great performance art. Sometimes, there is a thin line between symbolic and bollocks, but he danced along it with all the skill of a nimble jester. The guitar work by Robin Boult was outstanding and the denouement was perfect, with each band member departing the stage individually after being introduced. Once bass-playing collaborator Steve Vantsis and drummer Gavin Griffiths had left, the benevolent cult leader was the last to go – rhythmically dad-dancing slowly off the stage and then back on again for the reprise. Bravo.

After a short break, ‘A Gentleman’s Excuse Me’ is a very welcome inclusion. He might not do conventional love stories and he’s no Taylor Swift, but when Fish writes from the heart - broken or otherwise - he does it with a palpable emotional heft that is deeply meaningful and inspires relatable feelings. This poignant rendition by just Fish and Mickey Simmonds really hit the spot in front of the familiar video images on the screen. There were two songs from ‘Weltschmerz’ played on the first night but none on Day Two. Fish looked like he was actually enjoying himself and he didn’t even seem that world-weary at all.

What followed was “The Top of the Pops Suite”. ‘Kayleigh’ is the housewives’ favourite and a recognisable thing of beauty, but it doesn’t cut quite as deeply. ‘Lavender’ too. As an artist, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t when it comes to playing “the hits”. If you don’t, the people you meet in Tesco think you’re a dick. But in this of all crowds, you just know that nobody is here because they first saw that band on Top of the Pops or heard ‘Kayleigh’ on Peter Kay’s ‘Car Share’. Most of them probably desperately crave a serving of cold-case classics from his Marillion song-book one more time, but possibly not these ones as a first choice.

They might have preferred to hear ‘Three Boats Down from the Candy’ instead, but they’ve learned to know better than to shout that out, so they just sing “gie’s a bun” instead, but it still feels like you’re losing on the swings and losing on the roundabouts. That’s what tribute bands are for, I guess? It was ever thus though, and folks knew in advance that they would be feasting on whatever tough-love crumbs the glorious leader shares with them and they are delicious morsels after all.

Not least, ‘Heart of Lothian’. We are in East Lothian but, as well as Fish, there are also a few other natives of neighbouring Mid Lothian in the house, not least the Dalkeith boys from his school days who were there at the start and at gigs like The Nite Club in Edinburgh back in the days before the big, bad guy from Beowulf got cancelled.

After another very short break, the end is upon us. The penultimate song is a shake of the tartan tablets and a thingummy-jig on ‘Internal Exile’, which comes laced with the taste of political posturing. Other flavours of Kool-Aid are available.

And then with the house lights on, it’s time for one last barn-dance in Haddington and a final coming together of ‘The Company’. He also played it the previous night but there is no other way to say goodbye to this particular audience. They didn’t want to leave and there were awkward old-guy hugs and lumpy throats around the hall, but it was all over. By any standard, this was an outstanding show and for some, it was a life-enhancing experience.

Biggus Dickus has left the building and the town of Haddington.

He won’t be a forgotten son.