Rick lives it up as the world’s most lovable pop star
Rick Astley at the Electric Ballroom? It sounds incongruous – a cheesy entertainer in a sleazy basement. But it does make sense, because Astley is having a ball.
The lad from Newton-le-Willows has shown the ability, given to few celebrities, to walk away from it all. After retiring at 27 to be a fulltime father, he made a comeback at 50 that is still going strong seven years later.
In June he performed at Glastonbury, where he had never appeared before – except as a chauffeur, driving his daughter, Emilie, all the way from their home in Surrey. When Rick played the Pyramid Stage, Emilie (now in her thirties and a garden designer) returned the favour by steaming his suit.
His new album, Are We There Yet?, has just sailed into the UK chart at No2, 36 years after he went from making the tea for Stock Aitken Waterman to recording the classic single Never Gonna Give You Up. He’s doing two nights at the Royal Albert Hall this week and returning in February to play the arenas.
Strolling on stage in a pine-green suit, he launches into Together Forever, which prompts an instant singalong. ‘Thank you and goodnight,’ he quips as it finishes. ‘It doesn’t get better than that, everybody singing the first number.’
His material is middling, but he gets away with it because of three great strengths. The first is his voice, big and warm, like a quilted coat. The new album is more soul than pop and Astley’s larynx has no trouble making that leap, apart from one super-high note that he leaves for later in the tour.
The second strength is his professionalism. I’ve seen him support Take That, face a socially distanced audience at Knebworth and join the indie band Blossoms for a whole evening of songs by The Smiths. He always gets the job done.
The third strength is his personality. He’s charming and genuine.
He’s secure enough to give his riproaring backing singers, Lauren Johnson Reynolds and Dawn Joseph, a chance to shine while he finds his mug of tea.
As a rule, it’s the younger stars who show the most gratitude for their good fortune, but Astley proves the exception. He thanks the crowd, the crew, the record company, the crowd again. If the Brit
awards had a prize for Most Likeable Pop Star, he’d be on the shortlist.
Now that the clocks have gone back, we’ve officially reached the time of year when Cliff Richard releases a record. If you’re a fan, though, you may want to brace yourself for a shock. This is not a Christmas album.
Instead Cliff With Strings – My Kinda Life is a selection of hits from throughout his career, with violins attached. And what a career it is: now 65 years old, making you wonder if it qualifies for a pension of its own.
At 83, Cliff is still Cliff. On stage he’s a big enough draw to book the Hammersmith Apollo for six nights. In the studio he’s forever hit-andmiss. His music can be as well crafted as We Don’t Talk Anymore, as weird as Wired For Sound, as deft as Living Doll or as convoluted as Carrie.
This album – which also contains a disarmingly good cover of Bryan Adams’s (Everything I Do) I Do It For You – may not make him any new fans, but it can certainly go under the tree for the old ones.
After spending the week with Rick and Cliff, redoubtable as they are, I was ready for something more challenging. Cometh the hour, cometh the new album from Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark.
You can tell that Bauhaus Staircase is a winner just from the track listing. There are dozens of young electro-pop bands but you won’t find them calling a song Anthropocene, Kleptocracy or Aphrodite’s Favourite Child.
After 43 years Andy McCluskey and Paul Humphreys are still giving pretentiousness a good name. And making it sing with tunes that are deliciously playful.