John Martyn’s extraordinary talent rightly secures him a unique place in music.
Emerging from the 1960’s folk boom, John is without doubt one of the most progressive and influential artists. Guitarist, singer and songwriter, his inspirational and innovative music is evidenced in his extensive back catalogue of studio and live albums, each providing a fresh chapter in the evolution of his music.
John signed for Island Records and released his first album London Conversation in 1967. By the end of the 1970’s he had released a string of acclaimed albums and his music had evolved from fingerpicking acoustic folk to embrace rock, blues, jazz and reggae. John created an astonishingly distinctive sound with his uniquely percussive guitar playing fed through a tremolo/wah combination and echoplex. Always exploring, transforming and refreshing, by the early 1980’s John was concentrating on electric guitar, playing it in his own unique style and in his own band.
We join him at The Kulturzentrum, Schauburg, Bremen’s largest and oldest arts centre, accompanied by Jeffrey Allen on drums, and Alan Thomson on bass guitar and synthesisers.
John performs eighteen songs including a four song solo acoustic set. It’s a thrilling live performance laden with outstanding guitar playing, spanning John’s career to date, from Cocain taken from his debut album, to Could’ve Been Me from Well Kept Secret released just a few months earlier.
Some People Are Crazy, a self aware mischievous observation on how he can divide a crowd and a perennial favourite in John’s concerts, starts the set, “Some people are crazy about him, some people can’t stand his face, some people they smile when they know he’s coming, some people chase him out of the place.”
Amsterdam is driven by intense dirty guitar overlayed by John’s belligerent tough vocal. Solid Air was written for friend and peer Nick Drake, and documents his battle with anxiety and depression, before he died in 1974. It’s a deeply moving song propelled by Alan Thomson’s luscious bass line overlayed with John’s luxurious flowing guitar and vocals, “I don’t know what’s going on in your mind, but I know you don’t like what you find”, the unbearable sadness sends a shiver down your spine.
John’s exultant guitar soars skywards throughout the wonderful Sunday’s Child, seethes and trembles on Bless The Weather, before the ‘Glorious Fool’ reworking of One World’s charming tender ballad of unrequited love Couldn’t Love You More. It’s a passionate vocal rendition followed by the beautiful unassuming melody Sweet Little Mystery.
“Is there any dope about? Has anyone got any hash? I mean come on, give it up! Give it up!” John quips before launching into Dealer / Outside In, a tremendous, compulsive cut, John’s throaty snarl snaps out the threatening angry attack of the Dealer, ” They tell me that they dig my shit, so I sell it to them cheap.”
Fingerpicking his acoustic guitar with characteristic back slap John treats us to The Easy Blues, Cocain “It’s the first song I ever learnt to play” and One Day Without You. He ends this acoustic set with May You Never, perhaps his most well known song written for his ‘close brother’ Andy Matheou who ran Les Cousins in London’s Soho.
John agonises over missed opportunities in Could’ve Been Me, and his guitar fed through fuzz-box and echoplex is masterful on Root Love. One World with mesmerising guitar, sustain and echo layered over beautiful instrumentation is his psalm for unity and inclusivity, expressing John’s desire to live in a harmonious world, ”some of us live like princes, some of us live like queens, most of us live just like me, and we don’t know what it means, to take our place in one world, to make our peace in one world, to make our way in one world, to have our say in one world.” John’s unique vocals have a depth and humanity that summon up the compassion and warmth in us all for our fellow man, a warmth that is all too often buried beneath the pressures and responsibilities of everyday life.
There is an underestimated intensity and improvisation around the loose shape of Lookin’ On, a sad tale of physical intimacy long bereft of loving emotional attachment, with jazz saturated solos from John and the band. “To leave you staring at the empty ceiling, feeling nothing. Lookin’ on, I’m just lookin’ on.”
Johnny Too Bad, John’s cover of The Slickers’ original with additional lyrics is a product of the time he spent in Jamaica in 1976, reggae with menacingly distorted electric guitar. The hypnotic Smiling Stranger with dramatic percussive echoplex effects completes this outstanding concert.
“The bearded musician from the north of Britain had obviously consumed a substantial quantity of rum and cola before beginning the concert… and with the help of further drinks musical energy was released, which made the evening a complete success… two impressive hours of most intense music.” The Weser Courier reported! No doubt about the rum, but John would have been apoplectic at the suggestion he was from ‘the north of Britain’ although born in Surrey he was Scottish through and through, and fiercely proud of it!
John continued to tour and record studio albums until he passed away in 2009. His music has influenced generations of new artists and his song craft is recognised the world over. John’s writing is intensely personal and stems from his life experiences, “Some people keep diaries, I make records.”
It’s the honesty and emotion, the compelling twists and turns, which connect with us all. John’s enduring music has heart and integrity, he advocates the restorative power of love whilst acknowledging the permanent scars of love lost; he can break your heart and heal it in the same song. His impassioned vocals and dazzling guitar make this an extraordinary concert performance.
John Hillarby
