Touched By The Hand Of Todd
Todd Rundgren and The Liars, Birmingham Symphony Hall, Wednesday 14th July 2004.
So, prog-pop pioneer Todd Rundgren has returned with his first proper UK album release in over 10 years with the concept album Liars. Says Todd: 'all of these songs are about a paucity of truth. At first they may seem to be about other things, but that is just a reflection of how much dishonesty we have accepted in our daily lives. We are raised from birth to believe things that cannot be proven or that are plainly not true. People will often brag of their honesty, when there is so much they have simply chosen to ignore or leave unexamined. The fact is, we are terrified of the truth.'
And you can say what you like about concept albums, at least you know there's at least one idea in their head. But as fine as many of the sentiments expressed therein are, the album also works because, unlike his protege Prince, he hasn't forgotten to bring the tunes to his comeback party. Imagine Daryl Hall singing coruscating lyrics by Bill Hicks to a backdrop of pulsing Moroderesque synths and you have something of the flavour of this 14 track 80 minute labour of love on which Rundgren plays near enough all the instruments. Whatever your feelings on Rundgren (the man, remember, who produced 'Bat Out Of Hell') and prog-rock in general (and I'm guessing many of you will be ambivalent) 'Liars' is unquestionably one of the key works of the year to date: brave, ambitious, angry and literate pop music of the highest order.
And hello, it's him on stage in Birmingham at the Symphony Hall ('the most magnificent venue on our tour') and that's me within handshaking distance of the singer/songwriter, three rows from the stage alongside a gaggle of thirty/fortysomething wannabe groupies (the Toddster is nothing if not the Tom Jones of the Free Love generation). Framed by a quasi-religious arch, Rundgren opens with 'Truth' wearing a head-to-toe tunic that would make Jimi Tenor blush, later dispensed with to reveal a vest-top (not such a good fashion idea once you've hit 50 and that slight upper-arm flab shows on even the handsomest old devils) before he gets changed into a full yellow suit for the mellower second half of the show. Mr Rundgren also wears shades through the entire set of the indoor concert (although he does change pairs about halfway through): maybe he's sensitive to all the strobe lighting?
I'm guessing that Todd understands the irony of preaching about the perils of money-love in the robust funk of 'Mammon' to the assembled metropolitan elite of Birmingham, and other highlights include the brooding balladry of 'Past' and a supremely passionate 'Liars', which Rundgren links to a certain report published earlier today. To the audience, he says "Britain and America are like a couple of drunks in a bar, saying 'let's go beat up that Iraqi guy'". You can be as cynical as you like about a West Coast crooner suddenly finding his political conscience, but its preferable to many of the younger acts today who can only seem to get passionate about the jeans they're wearing (and selling).
Over the two hours of the set, there are occasional dips in interest, and the whole show now and then teeters on the edge of the worst excesses of 70s prog-concert pomposity (although we're at least spared a drum solo). However, the quality of the new material and Rundgren's evident good humour (he's lapping up the renewed attention to his career like an old dog rolling around in the sun) saves the show from sinking into excess. For the encores, Todd sings some of his popular tunes from the 70s like 'Hello, It's Me' and ah, the middle-aged ladies, they understand.
Related link: In-depth interview with Todd Rungren in The Independent.
Todd Rundgren and The Liars, Birmingham Symphony Hall, Wednesday 14th July 2004.
So, prog-pop pioneer Todd Rundgren has returned with his first proper UK album release in over 10 years with the concept album Liars. Says Todd: 'all of these songs are about a paucity of truth. At first they may seem to be about other things, but that is just a reflection of how much dishonesty we have accepted in our daily lives. We are raised from birth to believe things that cannot be proven or that are plainly not true. People will often brag of their honesty, when there is so much they have simply chosen to ignore or leave unexamined. The fact is, we are terrified of the truth.'
And you can say what you like about concept albums, at least you know there's at least one idea in their head. But as fine as many of the sentiments expressed therein are, the album also works because, unlike his protege Prince, he hasn't forgotten to bring the tunes to his comeback party. Imagine Daryl Hall singing coruscating lyrics by Bill Hicks to a backdrop of pulsing Moroderesque synths and you have something of the flavour of this 14 track 80 minute labour of love on which Rundgren plays near enough all the instruments. Whatever your feelings on Rundgren (the man, remember, who produced 'Bat Out Of Hell') and prog-rock in general (and I'm guessing many of you will be ambivalent) 'Liars' is unquestionably one of the key works of the year to date: brave, ambitious, angry and literate pop music of the highest order.
And hello, it's him on stage in Birmingham at the Symphony Hall ('the most magnificent venue on our tour') and that's me within handshaking distance of the singer/songwriter, three rows from the stage alongside a gaggle of thirty/fortysomething wannabe groupies (the Toddster is nothing if not the Tom Jones of the Free Love generation). Framed by a quasi-religious arch, Rundgren opens with 'Truth' wearing a head-to-toe tunic that would make Jimi Tenor blush, later dispensed with to reveal a vest-top (not such a good fashion idea once you've hit 50 and that slight upper-arm flab shows on even the handsomest old devils) before he gets changed into a full yellow suit for the mellower second half of the show. Mr Rundgren also wears shades through the entire set of the indoor concert (although he does change pairs about halfway through): maybe he's sensitive to all the strobe lighting?
I'm guessing that Todd understands the irony of preaching about the perils of money-love in the robust funk of 'Mammon' to the assembled metropolitan elite of Birmingham, and other highlights include the brooding balladry of 'Past' and a supremely passionate 'Liars', which Rundgren links to a certain report published earlier today. To the audience, he says "Britain and America are like a couple of drunks in a bar, saying 'let's go beat up that Iraqi guy'". You can be as cynical as you like about a West Coast crooner suddenly finding his political conscience, but its preferable to many of the younger acts today who can only seem to get passionate about the jeans they're wearing (and selling).
Over the two hours of the set, there are occasional dips in interest, and the whole show now and then teeters on the edge of the worst excesses of 70s prog-concert pomposity (although we're at least spared a drum solo). However, the quality of the new material and Rundgren's evident good humour (he's lapping up the renewed attention to his career like an old dog rolling around in the sun) saves the show from sinking into excess. For the encores, Todd sings some of his popular tunes from the 70s like 'Hello, It's Me' and ah, the middle-aged ladies, they understand.
Related link: In-depth interview with Todd Rungren in The Independent.
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