A night of vintage Shakin’ that left the fans stirred
Pop Shakin’ Stevens Cadogan Hall, London SW1 ★★★★★
He came, he shook, he conquered. There was jiving in the aisles of Cadogan Hall for the return of Shakin’ Stevens, the Eighties rock ’n’ roll revivalist still rocking into his 70s. Stevens (real name Michael Barratt) stood centre stage, hollering, crooning and occasionally wobbling a knee in the midst of absolute uproar. Beneath the hall’s vaulted ceiling, a largely middle-aged audience of 950 stood in their seats, whooped, shouted, clapped, sang, swayed, danced – and then rushed the stage, against the protests of staff – generally behaving with a joyous abandon rarely witnessed in this august Belgravia concert venue. Old people these days, eh? Can’t take them anywhere.
Stevens is 71 now, and still loyal to the music he has loved and performed all his life. His energetic, reheated rock ’n’ roll was already a form of novelty nostalgia when he exploded on to the scene in the early Eighties, so what does that make it now, nearly 40 years later? Nostalgia for nostalgia?
One of Britain’s unlikeliest pop idols, Stevens was a 33-year-old Welsh veteran of the pub rock circuit by the time he first made it on to the cover of Smash Hits magazine. He went on to score 15 Top 10 hits between 1980 and 1987.
It is interesting to consider just how colourful and eccentric that pop decade really was, when Stevens, effectively an Elvis impersonator in double denim, could share the charts with a piratical dandy like Adam Ant and a middle-aged punk like Ian Dury. It is hard to imagine such unusual characters scoring big hits now.
In a dapper black suit and prescription sunglasses, Stevens looks a bit more like Bryan Ferry than Elvis these days. Like his hair, his voice has got thinner, but he still has most of it. His nine-piece band are accomplished and tightly drilled, with a punchy horn section bolsetering the guitar and piano mix, and plenty of backing vocals to widen the sound and cover Stevens’s vulnerabilities. His repertoire is really not far removed from the kind of show-band rock you could hear in any old working men’s club in the Seventies, but it’s done with oodles of energy and panache.
The set expands from the sprightly rockabilly sound with which Stevens made his name, to embrace a wide range of rock styles, touching on the slick R&B of Chuck Berry, the stately balladry of Arthur Alexander, the charged-up power pop of Dave Edmunds and Nick Lowe, blues, country, gospel and even a dash of Louisiana zydeco, with the keyboard set to impersonate an accordion. This melodic, rhythmic music is the very foundation of our pop culture, yet where can you go to hear it being played now? Stevens is among the last standard bearers of a dying form.
Big hits, including This Ol’ House and Green Door, were uproariously received, but such was the atmosphere of celebration that even the Eighties B-side You Never Talked About Me was greeted with something approaching hysteria. This was an audience who had come to enjoy themselves.
Before Stevens finally departed, after 90 minutes, to the Elvis-in-vegas style anthem Fire Down Below, he walked across the front of the stage, touching fans’ outstretched hands, grinning and pointing, pulling one more knee tremble pose before leaving the building. The message was clear: Elvis may be long gone but Stevens is still shakin’.
Touring until March 24. Details: shakinstevens.com