’Surreal’ is the word that keeps coming back
when trying to describe the first of Mott
The Hoople’s two packed-out appearances at
Shepherd’s Bush Empire; closely rivalled by fun.
It’s surreal in 2019 to be sitting in this venerable
venue as a veteran of the Mott trenches half
a century after they were birthed as the speed-child
of Guy Stevens, predominantly surrounded by over-
50s blokes mouthing every word and vocal
interjection. It’s even more surreal seeing Ariel
Bender, once auburn-tressed rock god of the power
chord, manifesting like a hyperactive leprechaun in
leopard-skin tights, scarves, fluorescent-buckled
dance pumps and red beret, growing old disgracefully
by inventing a new species of bonkers over-70s guitar
hero. Even sophisticated piano maestro Morgan
Fisher leads an audience chant of: “I don’t care whatthe people may say, I don’t give a fuck anyway”,
before charging Bender, toreador-style, with his
keyboard-lapel coat. This is not a wake, it’s a riotous,
dam-busting party (with next-generation successors
Mick Jones and Bobby Gillespie on the guest list).
It’s cockles-warming to see Ian Hunter brimming
with unfettered joy and vitality as he struts, kicks and
laughs, sounding in better voice than he ever did in
’74. Bolstered by a band on scorching form and
adoring audiences, he’s entered the tour spirit with
the gleeful gusto with which he’s about to embrace
his eightieth year, even reading out Bender’s self-
scribed glowing introductions.
Hunter initially agreed to the tour to give Bender
and Fisher their turn in the sun after being excluded
from 2009’s and 2013’s reunions, this Mott seeing
him billed next to the pair as stars in their own right,backed by Ian’s Rant Band: guitarist Mark Bosch,
keyboard player Dennis DiBrizzi, bassist Paul Page,
drummer Steve Holley and multi-instrumentalist
James Mastro. The surprising success of the eight-
date US jaunt then spilled over to shows in
Manchester, Glasgow, Birmingham, Gateshead
and^ London.
Mott audiences have always displayed unusual
tolerance towards the support bands, from
Hackensack and Queen to the ubiquitous Joe Elliott.
Tonight, Bristol band Tax The Heat, reportedly here at
Hunter’s invitation, win them over with a spirited set
drawn from their 2016 album Fed To The Lions – Devil’s
Daughter a belting highlight – and the just-released
follow-up Change Your Position.
Spearheaded by singer-guitarist-cheerleader Alex
Veale’s relentless Mott references and gratitude, only
the sternest stalwart can resist their thunderous
amalgam of 70s hard-rock, Queens Of The Stone
Age and Bowie-tinted glam, bolstered by guitarist JP
Jacyshyn and bassist Antonio Angotti adding CSN-
style vocal harmonies, driven with telepathic force by
drummer Jack Taylor. The band’s fierce chops, Veale’sMott The Hoople ’74 / Tax The Heat
London Shepherd’s Bush Empire
All aboard for fun-time.
“It’s (^) cock
les-warmin
to see g^
Hunter (^) br
imming
with joy (^) an
d vitality.”
You’re only as old as you
feel: the soon-to-be-80 Ian
Hunter defies the years.
106 CLASSICROCKMAGAZINE.COM
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