CARL PALMER’S ELP LEGACY
“THE GREAT MAN IS STILL SO NIMBLE AROUND THE CYMBALS, HE ALMOST DISAPPEARS INTO A BLUR OF MOVEMENT
AS HIS SYNCOPATION TURNS INTO A JOYOUS, CONTROLLED
FRENZY.”
VENUE 1865, SOUTHAMPTON
DATE 29/01/2019
“We were very good at nicking things,” confesses Carl Palmer during one of his informal chats to a politely seated audience at the 1865, Southampton’s newest prog venue, located a few cruise ship lengths away from the docks.
These ‘nicked’ compositions are integral to the ELP Legacy incarnation that shows no signs of ending, especially when the 68-year-old Palmer, a picture of health, gives notice that next year is the 50th anniversary of prog’s first supergroup.
For now, the real masterstroke is the way that Palmer has re-engineered the musical juggernaut to preserve ELP’s longevity and heritage. Rather than recruiting musical clones, his supporting virtuosos are diametric opposites of his illustrious, departed colleagues. The ultra-expressive, live wire guitar maestro Paul Bielatowicz perfectly complements the intense, lanky bass and Chapman stick whiz Simon Fitzpatrick, while the supercharged Palmer is the focal point throughout.
They don’t venture far from the early ELP canon: a muscular, robust Tank and brooding Knife-Edge explode alongside Trilogy’s majestic sonic sweeps. However, the revelation is the reworking of Tarkus. It’s one of the three songs on which Bielatowicz uses a vocoder voice effect, so no comparisons can be drawn with the vocally blessed Greg Lake. But his intuitive guitar runs bring new perspectives on the intricate melody lines linking the seven mini-movements.
Fitzpatrick shines on a sensitively imagined From the Beginning, lifted by some lovely looping on his stick, and bravely recreates the Moog part on Lucky Man – these re-inventions really hit the spot.
Palmer’s in his groove on those ‘nicked’ tunes, hitting his stride in a thunderous Fugue In D Minor, borrowed from Bach and made famous by Sky, immediately followed by an unexpected, exhilarating 21st Century Schizoid Man, on which he absolutely nails those jazzy, jagged rhythm breaks.
Bielatowicz isn’t beyond some personal purloining himself, as he stuns with twohand tapping sequences during his solo spot based on Debussy (think Tomita’s When Snowflakes Are Dancing).
There’s an airing, too, for Aaron Copland’s roistering Hoedown and Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana. Concluding ELP’s greatest hit, Copland’s Fanfare For The Common Man, Palmer unleashes the drum solo – nearly 10 minutes and counting. Gongs, tom-toms, trick shots – the great man is still so nimble around the cymbals, he almost disappears into a blur of movement as his syncopation turns into a joyous, controlled frenzy.
He hardly draws breath before launching into Nutrocker, a fittingly emotional end to one of the most extraordinary, electrifying shows prog currently offers.
Palmer tantalisingly hints at celebrations for the 50th anniversary. If tonight is anything to go by, it’s going to be immense.