![]() Just as the band started to play ëOverture,í I noticed that in front of the barrier that divided the audience from the stage was seated an old man in a rather jazzy striped jacket. ÌTommy is a spiritual journey,î he has said many times in interviews leading up to the current tour. Roger is evangelical about getting back to basics with Tommy, getting to the heart of what he describes as a complex piece, an opera. Six songs passed before the sun was down sufficiently for Roger to embark on ëTommyí. He was set to have a bloody good time and to make sure the audience did too.Īnd we did. There was no strain getting to high notes. I donít think Iíve ever seen him or, more to the point, heard him so relaxed. The band kicked into ìI can see for Milesî. He wanted everyone to see the visuals created by the students of Middlesex University, a work in progress, so would do a few warm up numbers till ìthat bright thing in the sky goes downî. He announced that he was going to perform Tommy soon, but not yet. Roger and the band came on, looking relaxed. Somehow or other, everything had come together to create the ideal environment for what was to come. The crowd was in a great mood, looking forward to what was to come. Bob sort of floated off towards the stage. How to describe it? Much like that of Lord Emsworth, contemplating his prize pig. Itís been a joy and the results areÖ.îĪ look in his face again. ![]() ÌWorking like that in the studio with Pete again,î he continued, ìitís taken me right back to when we worked on the original mixes. ìIíve been working with Pete on the mixesÖ. Then, realising he hadnít answered my question, he thought for a moment and his eyes began to shine with what I can only describe as ÖÖ. I didnít bump into Lord Emsworth but the Who equivalent, Bob Pridden, whoíd just nipped backstage for a cup of tea. The sun was shining through intermittent clouds. I was surprised when I got out of the car that it was surprisingly warm. Obviously any concert attended by us riff-riff rock fans was going to be ring-fenced away from it. The main house was situated away from the main drive. ![]() I was half-expecting to see Lord Emsworth on the lawn, admiring the love of his life, his prize pig, the Empress of Blandings. ![]() Broadlands is something straight out of a P. As I drove off the A36 into the drive of Broadlands, an English stately home, once inhabited by the toffiest of toffs, Lord Mountbatten of Burma, Viceroy of India, I could have been heading towards a cricket match, croquet or tea on a lawn with cucumber sandwiches. I wasnít too keen on the ominous clouds but at least the deluge of rain in the morning had subsided. Driving through the countryside of Hampshire in the late afternoon, the sky was almost as big as in Oregon. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |