There are bands that exist on a scale beyond comprehension, beyond reality, in the ether, in the prehistory of rock. At least, if you weren’t born until 1975.
‘Smoke on the Water’ was recorded in 1971, and featured on Deep Purple’s sixth album, the legendary ‘Machine Head’. As such, it feels like a song that’s always existed, a song older than time by a band who predate even that. Without Depp Purple along with Led Zeppelin, there would likely have been no hard rock, and from that, everything which subsequently evolved.
For all that, because they permeate the sonic backdrop of all rock music so dominantly, I’ve never felt the explicit need to explore their back catalogue in depth. The same is largely true of Blue Oyster Cult, although I do own copy pf ‘Angels of Fortune; by virtue of the fact ‘(Don’t Fear) The Reaper’ is an all-time fave, although I do tend to veer toward the Clint Ruin and Lyydia Lunch cover as my preferred version of the song that has precisely the right amount of cowbell.
Arena gigs aren’t for everyone, particularly those who really feel the real connection with the music derives from proximity to the action. It’s hard to convey the sense of detachment when the band is so small and far away that it’s not so much like watching Live Aid or Glasto on TV, but watching Live Aid or Glasto on TV through a neighbour’s window. But here we are.
Blue Oyster Cul, despite peaks and troughs in their popularity, have never been away since the 770s, and are solid, at time boasting 4 guitars, and switching vocals frequently. There’s mass applause for some epic fretwanking, and after one guitarist’s done, the other guy steps in with less exuberant solo. But they delve back as far as their first album, kick out some choice cuts from their new album (and the fact they’re still releasing new material is impressive, and it’s not bad, either – heftier, riffier, the new material has an unexpectedly contemporary feel). They play the hits ‘Godzilla’ and ‘Burnin’ for You’ and of course, close with ‘(Don’t Fear) The Reaper’, and they sound great.
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There’s no two ways about it: Deep Purple are rock legends, and their catalogue is the draw that near-fills this 13,8200 capacity aircraft hanger with its £7.50 pints and half-hour queues for toilets between acts.
From the off, they bring good energy and strong riffs and strong vocals: Ian Gillan certainly doesn’t sound like a man who's 77 years of age, but he does spend a lot of time a the
back of stage when not singing often shuffling around like he’s looking for his slippers. When he’s singing, he’s good, but lacks both the grit and swagger of his and the band’s 70s heyday. While the performance is – objectively, undebatable, unquestionably, all the quality, there’s a certain frustration in seeing an hour’s worth of songs stretched out to an hour and a half with solos while one or the other takes the lead while the rest of the band depart the stage to take a breathe.
‘Good to be King’ blasts some heraldic keyboards, ‘Anya’ some mega chugging riffery, while ‘When a Blind Man Cries’ is just a bit cringey.
They end main set with ‘Smoke on the Water’ – of course – and return with ‘Hush’, which s energetic but it’s a testing song that seems to really stretch Gillan to the point of exhaustion before they wind up with ‘Black Night’ which is preceded by a lengthy bass solo.
It’s good – and the sound is fantastic – but… well, much as these are active bands with new releases added to their catalogue, this is very much a nostalgia trip for people who remember their 70s heyday – and not just for the fans.
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