Nivara Lounge’s cool serve of inspiration
Bob Dylan’s cousin sat on the chair in front of me, recording the gig on his phone. Bob Fink has seen some icons over the years. He was at Altamont, where Meredith Hunter Jr was stabbed to death by Hell’s Angels during a Rolling Stones performance, an event often cited as the end of the countercultural experiment.
He once saw Van Morrison play a contractually obliged set with his back to the audience, spiting organisers after they failed to recognise him. And, of course, Mr Fink has attended one or two Bob Dylan concerts. I wonder how Chris Thompson compares.
This was Thompson at his best. An acoustic solo set at Nivara Lounge, an underground live music venue on Victoria St. An invitation-only audience, a prelude to the evening show where Thompson’s latest album is being released. It’s his 21st. It was recorded in 1974, primarily in Ireland’s capital city. Hence the title, Drunken Nights in Dublin. Given the hour and the age of the clientele, I joke that the gig itself is closer to ‘‘A Sober Afternoon in Hamilton’’. That’s not to say that the artist wasn’t at the top of his game.
Extraordinary guitarwork complements a still strong, vibrant voice.
The songs are lyrically playful and Thompson has a facility with accents and an indifference to political correctness. He references the minstrel tradition in one then sings in a note-perfect, faux Spanish voice on another. A rendition of Alabama Song (Whisky Bar), a Bertholt Brecht/Kurt Weill number notably covered by The Doors, would perhaps ruffle the feathers of a younger crowd but here goes down a treat.
There are, famously, two Hamilton Chris Thompsons who made it on the world stage.
One played with Manfred Mann and sang Blinded by the Light before Bruce Springsteen did. This is the other Chris Thompson, whose first big break came in 1971, as a backing guitarist for the then folk celebrity and sometime British television star, Julie Felix. His own solo carer began in London shortly thereafter and continued whilst musician-in-residence at Trinity College, Dublin.
The ‘‘new’’ album, intended as his second, dates from this period. When the master tapes were lost in a house fire in 1982, it was presumed lost.
Then a minor miracle occurred. The acetate copy, made at The Beatles’ Apple Corps, turned up for sale online. Housed in an EMI studio in Middlesex for two decades, it had done the rounds of Soho music shops before its eBay listing. Those doing the selling did not know what it was, describing the material as ‘‘a rather mysterious album thought to have connections to George Harrison’’.
This is where Hamilton music impresario Donald McLeod entered the picture. Looking for a second release on his Pinenut Records label, McLeod, a bearded enthusiast whose boyish demeanour obscures ambition and ability and a corporate background, appreciates rare recordings. Long a collector, with likely the largest stockpile of Peter Posa records on the planet, McLeod is these days in the game himself, putting out material with an eye on the international niche market. A hitherto unreleased Chris Thompson album fits the bill nicely.
McLeod is behind the Nivara Lounge shows, too. Those favoured with an invitation include Hamilton city councillor Garry Mallett, an old school friend, a man not especially known for his enthusiasm for the arts. With Nivara’s future unclear, its building recently acquired by the council in a controversial, above-market-value deal, it might have been timely to ask Mr Mallett a few questions. Then again, even councillors should be afforded some private space.
One person with definite opinions on the politics of inner city development is Nivara owner/ manager Ivan Muir. Accusations of collusion between the mayor and developers have been dealt with formally in the recent past yet suspicions remain. Given the underground nature of the venue there is no obvious conflict between plans to extend the Victoria on the River concept and the continuation of Nivara but there may well be hidden agendas.
Spending an afternoon in such company was inspirational. None of the aforementioned are in the first flush of youth yet each are realising dreams. Fink, the oldest Wintec media arts student in history, well on the way to becoming a professional filmmaker. McLeod, the musical fan turned producer and record mogul. Muir, enjoying a second entrepreneurial wind, affording the city unique, live performance opportunities. And Chris Thompson, a professional musician for half a century, playing like he means it.