almost-desperate enthusiasm and loud
stance as the current generation’s take on
guitar-centric tropes is contagious enough
to have merited an encore if it wasn’t so close
to Mott time.
As Tax The Heat’s gear is packed, all eyes
fall on the huge ‘Mott ’74’ banner behind
the next drum kit. After a 1972 Bowie
announcement and traditional intro music of
Jupiter from The Planets sends its usual
shivers, Ian Hunter launches a-cappella into
Don McLean’s American Pie, with the
audience supplying the “Or did it?” that
always signalled The Golden Age Of Rock’n’Roll.
The auspiciousness of the band slamming in initially
masks the lack of oomph in the sound, compounded
by Bender’s solo; once a thermonuclear hell-horse,
tonight it resembles a randomly plucked banjo.
Everything else aside, the biggest change in Bender is
his guitar style, eschewing effects and raw power for
Scotty Moore-meets-Hank Marvin economy, still
delivered with grandiose arm-swinging. Dividing
opinion, he’s the most discussed post-show element.
After Hunter-heisted obscurity Lounge Lizard, The
Hoople’s Alice and Mott’s Honaloochie Boogie, Rest In
Peace brings the first time-stopping moment
as fallen friends are remembered, a poignant
mood set by Fisher’s gorgeous appropriation
of Bach’s Prelude No. 1 In C Major. Overcoming
Hunter and Bender’s jokey taunts, it’s
beautifully moving, the line, ‘Oh, it’s been good,
though it’s been strange’ resonating with the
real sense of this occasion. Thankfully, the
sound improves on Sucker and blast-off
happens on Sweet Jane, Bender’s scrabbling
onslaught amping into Velvets-style “ostrich
guitar” frazzle as the closing vamp
mushrooms into anarchic thrash.
Tragic ballad Rose transcends its B-side
status to provide another heart-melting
moment, before Bender scrapes the mutated
Chuck Berry intro to Walkin’ With
A Mountain and Hunter straps on a replica of 1970’s
Maltese Cross guitar to pile into one of tonight’s
few Island years acknowledgements, cavorting like
someone half his age.
After Hunter self-effacingly explains Roll Away
The Stone becoming Mott’s biggest hit because it was
released before Christmas, uber-fan Joe Elliott comes
on to coo the Lynsey de Paul part. The night’s triumph
is a near-perfect rendition of complex mini-opera
Marionette, navigated (complete with Bender’s evil
laugh) after Hunter’s introduction suggests thatFreddie Mercury soaked it up before writing
Bohemian Rhapsody.
Like the whole set, 1974’s obligatory
rock’n’roll medley sounds loose but is tightly
choreographed, pit-stops including One Of The
Boys, Rock and Roll Queen, You Really Got Me,
Crash Street Kidds, Death May Be Your Santa
Claus, Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On, Violence
(with cat gut-scraping cameo from original
violinist Graham Preskett) and Cleveland
Rocks (title adjusted accordingly).
The set ends with Saturday Gigs (the
single that stymied Mott’s last line-up,
when Mick Ronson replaced Bender after
he was sacked in July 1974), and not a dry
eye in the house by the ‘Goodbye’ coda.
To many, this is the song that affirms Mott
as our band, that no other group could
ever come close to replacing. They are
that special, even parading as their own
glorious tribute band.
Of course, they’re called back, Fisher
teasing those famous piano chords to
kick-start All The Way From Memphis. But
wait... That bloke with the little guitar,
lightning-flash T-shirt and white frizzy hair
looks like Brian May. It is Brian May, repaying the 1973-
74 support spots that introduced Queen to the
masses. He stays to firm up the majestic intro to All
The Young Dudes, flanked by Elliott leading the chorale
with Mott’s original singer-turned-road-manager Stan
Tippins. Glowing with almost disbelieving delight,
Hunter amends his closing rant and it’s over.
But that’s only temporarily. MTH ’74 are having so
much fun more dates are being arranged for August.
You won’t catch any other band of this vintage sending
up themselves so uproariously; too old to give a shit
about proving themselves as Serious
Artists, Hunter, Fisher and Bender will
continue delivering this blistering show,
answering prayers for long-time fans
while shrewdly bringing levity and killer
rock’n’roll to these troubled times.
With Overend Watts and Buffin gone
and Mick Ralphs incapacitated, Mott now
has to be celebrated as a wild, irreverent
spirit that changed rock’n’roll by dragging
its original primal energy past the 60s
to herald its seismic next phase. More
power to these survivors, and a happy
80th to Ian Hunter, the force of nature
at the centre of it all.
Words: Kris Needs
Photos: James SharrockMorgan Fisher gets his turn in
the sun after missing Mott’s
2009 and 2013 reunions.Tax The Heat:
contagious stuff.The one and only Ariel
Bender brings his unique
sartorial style and more
than a few ‘shapes’.Hunter’s Rant Band’s
Mark Bosch and others
beef up the sound.CLASSICROCKMAGAZINE.COM 107