Many years ago, when I was a young lass of 15, my mum took me to see my first ever live band. I’m always pleased (and a little smug!) that it wasn’t some rubbish pop act that I’d surely be embarrassed about now, but the ‘very ‘eavy, very ‘umble’ Uriah Heep. It was a modest affair, a charity gig at a venue that holds no more than about 350 people, but it ignited in me an enduring passion for live music and a real fondness for the band who kickstarted it all. 18 years on and I’m a very long way from home, in Glasgow to witness ‘The Magician’s Farewell’, apparently the final time the Heep will embark on a full length tour, though it’s made clear that they’re not ruling out the possibility of occasional live shows or even new music. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself, because tonight it’s a triple bill, and an early start for Tyketto who are due on stage at 18:45 sharp.
I’ve rushed here, having arrived from Derbyshire within the last hour or so, checked in at my hotel and wolfed down a burger at high speed. But I’m glad, because arriving late would have meant missing one of the most formidable support sets I have seen in some time. There is nothing complacent about Tyketto’s performance, no sense of going through the motions. In fact, this feels like a band still hungry, still keen to make a mark despite 30 odd years in the business. As always, I’m floored by Danny Vaughn’s vocals that seemingly refuse to show any signs of age. And it helps that the band behind him are incredibly tight; In Harry Scott Elliott the band has a true guitar hero, who looks the part in his snazzy kilt, but more importantly, can shred with the best of them. From the moment the harmonies kick in at the chorus of opener ‘Reach’, there’s a sense that Tyketto have everyone on side, backed up by the enthusiasm with which we join in on ‘Strength in Numbers’ and the irresistible ‘Lay Your Body Down’, shouting the chorus louder at every opportunity. Vaughn seems almost apologetic about the inclusion of a ballad, but ‘Standing Alone’ has earned its place and certainly doesn’t hinder the momentum. The set may be short, but it’s perfectly appointed, with time for ‘Wings’, ‘Seasons’, ‘Burning Down Inside’ and ‘Forever Young’. The latter provides a triumphant conclusion that leaves me questioning why this band still find themselves somewhat under the radar.
April Wine perhaps suffer a little in Tyketto’s wake. Though there’s some excitement around these Canadians being in the UK for the first time in more than 40 years, there’s a sense that they might have been away a little too long. Maybe I’m just too young, but none of the songs are familiar, and the relaxed harmonies feel a little rough around the edges after the polished perfection that preceded. Not that it’s a bad set, far from it. Opening with the self explanatory ‘I Like to Rock’, there is much to enjoy in the persistent groove and heavy sound of two Les Pauls thundering along. This band do no-nonsense boogie particularly well, a pleasing bass rumble underpinning the likes of ‘Crash and Burn’ and the percussive ‘Oowatanite’, both blessed with catchy choruses that don’t take long to absorb. Longest serving member Brian Greenway takes the lead vocal on ‘Before the Dawn’, but it’s the tender ‘Just Between You and Me’ that I enjoy best. The harmonies come together best on ‘Sign of the Gypsy Queen’, apparently a cover, but a song that April Wine have made convincingly their own. The set finishes with an enthusiastic ‘Roller’, a song that bounces along nicely, successfully getting heads bobbing throughout the theatre.
It’s perhaps brave to front load a set with three relatively recent songs (admittedly, ‘Overload’ is now a scary 17 years old, but in the lifespan of Uriah Heep, that’s still recent, isn’t it?!) but it’s proof, if needed, that this is a band who should never be viewed purely as a heritage act. ‘Grazed by Heaven’ and ‘Save Me Tonight’ are great songs, delivered with far more energy than should reasonably be expected from five men whose average age is somewhere around 68! Bernie Shaw’s charismatic performance makes a strong case for him to be regarded as the definitive Heep vocalist (not just the longest serving!). He urges us to our feet immediately and there we stay, quite a feat given the audience is not the most youthful (is there a more polite way to put this?!).
Unsurprisingly, it’s the classics that really get the crowd going. As Shaw puts it, “we’re back in 1973” and a bouncy ‘Stealin’ provides the first real singalong. There’s something joyful about watching Uriah Heep; a sense of fun in the way Mick Box waves his hand and Phil Lanzon attacks his keyboard with real purpose. ‘Shadows of Grief’ is quite magnificent, a showcase of all that is wonderful about the band, an epic, prog leaning masterpiece. Not that Shaw would probably thank me for that description; he mentions that the band have been called many things over the years - prog, hard rock, heavy metal - but prefer not to be pigeonholed. The truth is that they cover all of those genres pretty well. Where ‘Sweet Lorraine’ is catchy and carefree, the relentless riff that dominates ‘Free ‘n’ Easy’ goes some way to remind you just how heavy Uriah Heep can be. But really, it’s the epics that dominate the evening. The centrepiece is ‘The Magician’s Birthday’, played in its entirety, a song that shifts through so many moods in ten minutes that there’s no time to get bored. It also highlights just how thunderous a drummer Russell Gilbrook is, his performance bringing real power to the second half of this sprawling classic. A supercharged ‘Gypsy’ and unmissable ‘July Morning’ follow, both deserving of their rapturous response.
It’s all over a little too quickly, the feeling that there are so many songs missing from this celebration. But of course, it’s an impossible task to represent a 55 year career in about 90 minutes. ‘Sunrise’ is well received as the first encore and inevitably, it’s ‘Easy Livin’ that closes the show, as if it could ever be anything else. If this is truly ‘The Magician’s Farewell’, then Uriah Heep are going out on a high. But if the suggestion of a second farewell comes to fruition, be assured I won’t want to miss it.