Roy Harper, 100 Club, London

Simon Hardeman
Tuesday 24 January 2006 01:00 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

With his twinkling eyes, silver beard, tightly buttoned shirt and hippie trousers, Harper looked somewhere between a science teacher and my idea of Homer. The first half began with "Tom Tiddler's Ground", a love song of "long before Eden was lost and found", a line that Harper took delight in. It's a habit of his to quote lyrics from his songs, and this, allied to his lengthy anecdotes, can get wearing.

But the music was spellbinding. Harper sat, his left foot on a delay pedal connected to his voice, which harmonised with its own echoes, the trademark vibrato adding to its hypnotic texture. It is Harper's main asset, especially in songs that can sound similar (following one number, after a welter of vocal echo and guitar-hammering, he admitted "at the end there I could have gone into every song I ever wrote").

Standouts in the first half included "Frozen Moment" and a recent, vehemently anti-war and anti-religion, epic, "The Death of God". This he prefaced with an atheist polemic that drew cheers from some but resolute silence from others. He also did the notorious ditty "Watford Gap", a much more focused attack, this time on 1970s motorway food.

The second half began with another digression, this time a moan about how EMI didn't promote 1971's Stormcock, before he played its four longish tracks. The second of them, "The Same Old Rock", featured fabulous lead lines from Matt Churchill on a second guitar that most of the time blended seamlessly into Harper's playing. Churchill, appropriately, didn't play on "One Man Rock and Roll Band", another anti-war homily in which Harper hammered, pulled, stroked and wrung the neck of his guitar to extraordinary effect. "I was sailing the Atlantic on that one," he admitted.

He encored with the beautiful "Another Day"; or, rather, he didn't. He couldn't resist a final chat with the audience. Some things never change.

Roy Harper plays the 100 Club again on Thursday and Friday (www.the100club.co.uk)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in