Buxton, The Opera House, 30 May 2010

After returning late from Wolverhampton to Deb's place we were all so tired, although Deborah had still managed to stay up till 4 am! Sunday morning; the sun was coming up over a sleepy Northampton village, where nothing was stirring, not even the sleeping but  impressed 16 year-old who had been dragged away from baby sitting by her mother the night before to go and see Steve Harley.
Deborah was slightly disappointed at the 500 quid black semi acoustic/electric Yamaha guitar that had sat collecting dust

in her daughter’s bedroom for well over a year, thought her youngest daughter, Jessica, should witness the brilliant Lartey sisters. Maybe, just maybe she would be inspired! Well who wouldn't be? And besides, if mother endured N’DUBZ for her daughter, it's only fair her off spring should return the favour! So it was done.

She now has an insight to what that guitar was bought for and we know she took note. Paid attention to detail, didn't speak apart from asking Ashleigh’s age and if Faye was the one on guitar?  Then when Steve and the band embarked on stage she turned with a huge smile and remarked to her mother “He's got dolphins on his guitar”   Ah yes, so he has!  Recall Robbie has one just the same; the two blondes from Gibson.

After a slow start to Sunday, didn't wake till 10am,  Deborah's milling around in her dressing gown like death warmed up, throwing little morsels  to feed Karen, as she sat on Deborah’s sofa recalling the night before at Wolverhampton and getting on with the reporting job in hand. Deborah, still not being able to quite get the act together and make any sensible contribution to the gig report, chimes in “ not a very inspiring place that Wolverhampton is it?  We laugh but agree, even though it wasn’t Bilston, it still had a GREAT atmosphere, once it had filled up with the fans who obviously bought the vinyl from way back when!  

Now you know it’s never the same twice! Well....
We’d set off in bright sunshine from Northampton but, as we climbed across the Derbyshire Peaks, the cows in the fields to the side of the road were lying down, the campers in sites with pubs attached (marvellous – must come back) were scurrying into their tents and slippery grey clouds were threatening on the horizon. Mercifully all that threatened dissipated, and we dropped down into the fantastic Peak town with the last of the evening’s sunshine lighting up the beautiful town – what a place!
 
The rendez-vous buddies – Mike J, Graeme (minus ‘Barbara’ who was ill at home) , Steve, PJH, Paul, Lesley and John were ensconced in a high street  pub as far away from the venue as Deborah’s shoes could cope with and that had a dog in-residence that really needed to learn some table manners.

Sheer delight, as Buxton (eventually) rolled out a carpet of gold for our weary toes to be touching and we sink into plush seats in the amazing Opera House, as hours hang suspended, and from where shall catch all the delights on offer from the Stranger who’d come to town; we have entered into the gates of paradise. This night was like no other, if the world ended tonight and that was the last gig attended, these fans would be contented and satisfied that it possibly was the best of the best!

James, on No Bleeding Hearts. twisted and turned and shot streams of sound across the stage like  ricocheting bullets; Lincoln’s bass pumped persistently through the walls of this special interior where silver and gold brought back a heart grown cold and where cherubs and roses hung like a golden lining above our heads.As Panorama came to a close, it was apparent, to some, that the sax solo was not be taken and challenged by Barry's bow tonight, but, that on this occasion, Robbie had stepped out into the limelight and brought it to an unforgettable finish; never the same twice.

The lighting captivated and, at times, pulled you from the mastery of the musicians and it finally dawned that the four columns of light, adorning the stage, that gracefully dipped and changed in colour,  were a constant  feature  travelling around on this tour and not unique to the venue.  The lighting is always an essential accompaniment to a brilliant show; has it place and always works in harmony with the sounds produced, diminishing and closing in, shutting down to dark moments and then bathing back lights cleverly orchestrated alongside the music, thrill and lift the spirit, along with the voice of the man and his gifted presence he brings to share with us all. We've always been aware it’s Steve's vehicle; he’s the driver, and the passengers have now become, maybe, the engine to this awesome formula one racing machine, which cannot fail to win.

Sitting in this audience, Man! We couldn't believe the size of the crowd. Show us something we’ve never seen, you’re only real in this dream machine!  And not all the lighting is so drastic! You couldn't believe the size of the crowd! This was a veritable palace of mirrors where the ornate cream plasterwork, trimmed with gilt, played host to a night of sublime reflection.

The Lighthouse brought the house down, a standing ovation and we are emotionally his; Steve Harley, who writes these wondrous pieces. Every word has a meaning or several and they draw you in to a level of understanding of his world that hugs and holds, wounds and cries, lives and dies. It is breathtaking stuff and deserves such recognition. He is surrounded by such a group of professional and special musicians and as he introduces each the audience rise up and applaud these magnificent deliverers of our joy. Above all, his voice his instrument, his words the instrument of our joy!
 
At the end they were all smiling, Ashleigh and Faye, Robbie, Lincoln, Stuart, James and Barry and the biggest grin of all reserved for the face of that man, our hero, Steve Harley as he gazed out upon the stunning opera house, where all were on their feet clapping and smiling back – what a feeling that must be, what a sight that must be, what recognition, what appreciation! Nothing more than he and they deserve. This was a night at the opera that we never wanted to end.
This is an amazing tour. If there are any tickets left for the remaining venues and you haven’t yet been, you MUST. If you have to drive from the north of Scotland to Brighton on the south coast to see this captivating man and his band you MUST do so!

On the return journey we couldn’t find John ‘I’m only dancing’ who’d offered to guide us out to the M1 so we fly high across the silent and empty moor by the light of the moon (albeit gingerly) and we feel like we’re sitting on top of the world trying to get to heaven before they close the door.
Two hours later and Deb is safely home in Northamptonshire and another three sees Karen wearily opening the front door of her SE London home, handing over the Satnav to one who demanded its return and, just before drifting off to sleep, some few additional mixed up words of Bob Dylan pop into her head...we’re gonna remember forever the joy that we shared... and the smell of the roses will remain.

Set List:
Faith and Virtue
Psychomodo
Judy Teen
Panorama
No Bleeding hearts
True Love Will Find you in the End
Mirror Freak
This Old Man
All the Men Are Hungry
Mr Raffles
Here Comes the Sun
The Lighthouse
Blinded With Tears
Mr Soft
Loretta’s Tale
Stranger Comes To Town
Sebastian
(encore)
Journey’s End
Make me Smile