Although this writer became aware of fiery Glaswegian singer/ songwriter JOHN MARTYN during his predominantly electric late '70s phase (firstly on 'Rock Goes To College' if memory serves), it's largely his groundbreaking acoustic folk-rock adventures from the late '60s -as part of Joe Boyd's Witchseason stable with the likes of Nick Drake and Fairport Convention- and groundbreaking early '70s albums such as "Solid Air" that he will be remembered for.
Not that he's finished yet by any means, of course, but it's still his acoustic shows - often as a duo with revered double bassist DANNY THOMPSON - which send his seasoned fans doolally, and one such inspired soiree is captured on this self-explanatory one-hour set filmed live at Dublin's beautiful old Olympia Theatre during the summer of 1987.
Martyn's career has flirted successfully with folk, jazz, rock and blues, and the 10 songs making up this set could be construed as a handy geatest hits of sorts as it features the likes of "Sweet Little Mystery", "Bless The Weather" and of course "Solid Air" itself, and as soon as a bonhomie-fuelled Martyn intoduces himself and Thompson's Dublin debut as "a notable first at my stage of the game, hey!" and launches into a supple "One Day Without You" you know you're in for something good.
And so it goes. "Solid Air" ("This is for a friend of mine called Nick Drake who had a bit of trouble in his nut....lovely man, though") comes early on and its' gentle touch still perfectly captures the transient nature of existence. It also allows an on-form Thompson to stretch for the first time before the two of them combine to intuitive perfection during a sparse and lovely "Sweet Little Mystery".
Clearly enjoying himself, Martyn turns to Thompson and says "Alright ma son...how ya doin' Baldy?" before introducing "Bless The Weather" as the first of "two songs from the Hippie period". This again finds them indulging in some spidery and inspired picking and jazzy runs, though the raga-ish conclusion is a little off-putting and the ensuing "Make No Mistake" is too stoned and rambling to really hit an emotional home run.
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Nonetheless, with the exception of an overblown "Outside In", it's the only real blemish and the programme's second half jealously hoards further great stuff like "Dealer" and "Spencer The Rover." "Dealer" is breathtaking, with supple picking, drama, fatalism and vibrating arpeggios conspiring before working itself into the kind of staggering set-piece only the likes of Michael Chapman and Richard Thompson can match. It's fantastic, but in emotional terms matched by the trad. arr "Spencer The Rover" which Martyn moulds effortlessly in his own soulfully melancholic image.
We're into the home strait after that, but before "May You Never" Martyn again enjoys a joke at Thompson's expense. "He's such a nag isn't he..."May You Never", "May You Never"....I thought I came here to get away from the missus", he says slyly. Naturally the ensuing song itself is a sublimely mellow shiver and the concluding "One World" is hymnal, dirgelike and valedictory.
And that's pretty much that. "We hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane" says a beaming and probably quite well-refreshed Martyn as they troop off, confident that the 1500-strong crowd will be with him well into the future. Most of them probably already own this DVD, but that shouldn't mean the uninitiated should shy away either. "Live In Dublin" is a compact masterclass and a worthy outing for old hand and curious observer alike.
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