Little Steven And The Disciples Of Soul - Alcatraz, Milan, 13 June 2019

Whisper it, but while the Boss may still be the Boss, it’s his consigliere Steve Van Zandt who’s delivering the more vibrant musical experience these days.  This is the third time I’ve seen Little Steven and Co over the last couple of years, and each time the result has been the same – an uplifting spiritual victory for Stevie’s patented soul revue extravaganza.

Partly this is a matter of location.  While nowadays Bruce chooses to contend with the compromises born of performing in stadia, Van Zandt is able to play in venues on a human scale, where the music can envelop the audience and more easily create an emotional connection. God knows what the economics are of a 15-piece band playing internationally to crowds of around 2-3,000, but whether the gig is in Glasgow’s O2 Academy or Milan’s Alcatraz, artistically it works like a dream.

Little Steven and the gang - no Monochrome Set here!

This time around of course, the show is based around the Disciples’ new album Summer Of Sorcery, and by that I mean all of it, not just the token couple of tracks your typical heritage act might venture.

Steve Van Zandt, y’see, isn’t just a great assimilator, synthesiser and regurgitator of all that is great in American rock’n’roll.  He is a man with a vision.  And that vision is to reawaken in his audience the cultural memory of the heady, youthful innocence and optimism of classic rock’n’roll, soul, pop - whatever you want to call it - but seasoned with awareness of the real world stuff that still needs to be confronted.  As the lyrics of ‘Summer Of Sorcery’ itself put it, “I want to get lost in your festival of unlimited possibilities, I want to be transformed by your summer of sorcery.” And by the time he’s singing this, near the end of the show, you can bet your sweet ass that the audience want the same thing.

It really don’t matter which songs you pick, they’re all pulling in the same direction.  Maybe it’s the swoon-worthy Detroit soul melody of ‘Love Again’, one of the highlights of the new album, with which Van Zandt tells the audience they’re “about to be transported to summer”.

(Not a difficult proposition in sun-drenched Italy, it has to be said.)  Maybe it’s the pseudo-harpsichord intro from Lowell “Banana” Levinger, leading to the great slab of a riff that ushers in the horn-heavy ‘I Visit The Blues’, which he introduces with a spiel about there not being any Beach Boys and so no summer (“Gabeesh?”) without the guy who discovered California - said guy, he bizarrely suggests, being Sir Francis Drake.  Maybe it’s his Eighties belter ‘Los Desparicidos’, featuring a scything guitar intro from Marc Ribler, a heap of arm-flailing supplication from the girls on backing vox, and tour de force Latino percussion from Anthony Almonte. Maybe it’s ‘Party Mambo’, with its pointed reference to Puerto Rico being deserted in its hour of need, with its horn contest at stage front and the girls going heavy on maracas.

Sha-la-la - with added arm-flailing supplication

You get the picture? Alcatraz may be little more than a big shed, but the Disciples Of Soul turn it into the house party you always dreamed of.

And you know what? You don’t even really need the visuals. Sure, there’s the day-glo backdrop. There’s ivory tinkler Andy Burton out front soloing on one of those keyboard-pretending-to-be-a-guitar contraptions with freaky all black keys.  There’s the three girls with wild, wild hair taking very, very seriously their contractual responsibility to go certifiably fucking nuts on a regular basis. But none of that matters.  Because you could close your eyes and still be immersed in a mythical soundtrack of mid-Sixties America, on some crappy radio in your bedroom, that in reality you probably never experienced at the time.  This, friends, is indeed a form of musical alchemy.

And by the way, those girls aren’t just eye candy.  You want Motown sha-la-las, Vandellas-like shoop-shoops, or Etta James like solo contributions?  Jessica Wagner, Sara Devine and Tania Jones got ‘em for ya.  Gabeesh??

There’s a great triplet of Van Zandt/Springsteen tunes “to express gratitood to Southside Johnny,” and “to keep the royalties comin’ in for Bruce, ‘cause he needs ‘em”, including the magnificent funky soul of ‘Trapped Again’, with another great solo from Van Zandt’s very own consigliere Ribler.  But ‘Love On The Wrong Side Of Town’ is something else, with the crowd singing along to its Searchers-like riff, and its Ronette-esque backing vocals and sax solo combining to encapsulate all of the Phil Spector soul you ever imagined. And after it finishes

Just how cool is that guitar?

an ongoing crowd singalong prompts Van Zandt to start strumming his guitar again, and lead the band in what might even be an improvised extra turn around the block. (Though I’m betting it takes a lot of rehearsal to look this spontaneous.)

Steve introduces ‘I Am A Patriot’ with commentary about the universal language of politics being bullshit, and about false dichotomies suggesting you can’t be both a patriot and global citizen.  But just as relevant is the wild rock’n’roll of ‘Superfly Terraplane’, with the girls dancing fit to bust as he sings that “you can stick your Second Amendment up your ass”, in addition to getting down big time on lead guitar – something he should do more of, in my view.

By the time they get to the dance-percussion workout of ‘Bitter Fruit’, the Disciples Of Soul have become a demolition crew smashing your inhibitions, and happiness is defined as dancing the night away at a Little Steven gig with your, er, baby.

And so it goes down the stretch, through a wild ‘Soul Power Twist’, the call to arms of ‘Sun City’, and the anthemic ‘Out Of The Darkness’, until they’re gone and we’re all drifting away.

And then, at the risk of over-sharing, I’m washing my hands in the Gents when I hear a cheer, and then a guitar chord.  Meanwhile, back in the hall, my other half is taking a pic of a trio of gleeful guys with their backs to the stage, when she points over their shoulders as she sees the band reappear.  And I’m scurrying back towards the stage along with half the audience, as the Disciples Of Soul break into ‘I Don’t Wanna Go Home’.  And we all try to reach up and touch the sky . . .

John Mayall - Nobody Told Me

For a bloke in his mid-eighties, John Mayall’s voice is very much in fine fettle.  We’re not talking about skyscraping singing of course, but for singing Chicago-type R’n’B, in the vein of Muddy, Wolf and B.B. King, he’s doing darned well.  Not in their league, to be fair, but still able to hit all the right notes, and deliver them with character.

Of course Nobody Told Me is being sold partly on the basis of the impressive parade of guest guitarists that Mayall has assembled, and we’ll get to them in due course.  But focusing on the guitar solos alone would short-change this collection, because it has some other stuff going for it.  For one thing, although the aforementioned R’n’B can be a pretty restrictive form, Mayall has managed to come up with enough subtle variations across ten tracks to keep the listener interested.  For another, his own harp and keyboard playing deserve attention. And it’s all well-captured by producer Eric Corne, well known as Walter Trout’s producer of choice.

There's a harmonica in there somewhere, John!

The seven covers, of varying vintages, range from Magic Sam’s warm and relaxed ‘What Have I Done Wrong’ and Little Milton’s swinging ‘That’s What Love Will Make You Do’, both punctuated by horns, to the more deliberate ‘Evil Here To Stay’ and reflective ‘The Hurt Inside’.  Meanwhile the three Mayall originals close out the album, including the jump blues-like ‘Like It Like You Do’ and the concluding slowie ‘Nobody Told Me’, the former a wry and sparky tribute to the archetypal woman of a bluesman’s dreams, the latter its world-weary and resigned my-baby-done-left-me counterpoint.

These two closing tracks are impressively decorated by the guitar work of Carolyn Wonderland, who I must confess is a new name to me.  But she makes an even more distinctive contribution to the cover of Joe Bonamassa’s ‘Distant Lonesome Train’, adding slithering, slicing slide guitar to its tugging, slow train rhythm, ahead of a ringing ending.  The result is a track that decisively shakes up the middle of the album.

Bonamassa himself features twice.  First there’s the opener ‘What Have I Done Wrong’, with a strolling guitar lick over bubbling bass from Greg Rzab, and a restrained solo adding to subdued organ. Then later he adds a stinging, well-constructed solo to the jaunty ‘Delta Hurricane’, penned by the Uptown Horns and once recorded by Larry McCray, with a probing bass line and organ solo from Mayall.

McCray, in turn, also gets a couple of outings.  ‘The Moon Is Full’, written by modern day artist Gwendolyn Collins, has a bright sound and a tumbling bass riff in the background.  McCray litters it with tasty fills, and on his second, closing solo goes into high-speed mode – though I’d question whether it adds much to the equation as Mayall’s lush organ solo.  And the same is true of Gary Moore’s ‘The Hurt Inside’, on which there’s a more-ish ascending lick at the heart of his first solo and pleasing bursts of conversational playing, but then a closing wah-wah solo that ultimately feels overcooked.

The other three guest appearances come courtesy of Alex Lifeson, Todd Rundgren, and Steve Van Zandt – none of them what you might regard as the usual suspects.

Lifeson, a veteran of 40 years in Rush, the master practitioners of proggy hard rock, seems like the least likely candidate.  But he does have a bit of form, bearing in mind their Feedback EP of covers, including ‘Crossroads’.  And here he adds a suitably spiky, lower register solo to the brooding ‘Evil Here To Stay’, twinned with a moody piano solo from Mayall – who also adds sporadic bursts of harp – over deep, fuzzy guitar chords. Might an Alex Lifeson Blues Band make for an intriguing post-Rush project?

On the easy-going ‘That’s What Love Will Make You Do’ a jangling, jagged guitar riff is juxtaposed with mellow organ from Mayall, supplemented by vibrant horns and a funky rhythm section courtesy of Rzab’s bass and Jay Davenport’s drums. And in the midst of it all Todd Rundgren’s solo transitions naturally from the riff to a variation on the melody and back again.

Van Zandt features on the first of the Mayall originals, ‘It’s So Tough’, a song that I’d guess he’d identify with lyrically.  Observing that we live in a time when “a crazy guy’s in charge,” Mayall uses a gently appealing melody to urge the listener to “Think more about your neighbour, ‘Cause now it’s up to you and me”, while Little Steven adds patient, shivering guitar to electric piano colouring.

Nobody Told Me is a grower of an album, coaxing you in bit by bit, and revealing more of itself on repeated listens.  It may not be wall to wall genius, but it still carries the torch with style.  Never mind all the guest stars, just lay back and enjoy the ride.

John Mayall is touring Europe in March and April 2019 - details here.

Little Steven and The Disciples Of Soul - Whitley Bay Playhouse, 2 July 2018

The curtain parts, a rumble of drums and burst of chords heralds the appearance of the Disciples Of Soul, and before Steve Van Zandt can even shuffle his way to the front of stage, the audience are on their feet.  The Whitley Bay Playhouse may be a compact but bijou venue, but as Little Steven kicks off with Arthur Conley’s ‘Sweet Soul Music’ the night is made for dancing.

What follows is a two and a half hour show that’s equal parts Stax Soul Revue,  grand tour of rock’n’roll history, and – as the main man himself puts it – spiritual nourishment through live music.

And that’s not a grand claim.  Just a few songs in they serve up Etta James’ ‘Blues Is My

Little Steven preaches spiritual nourishment

Pic by Adam Kennedy

Business’, which not only features a 100% grabber of a hook, but is a platform for no less than six – count ‘em, six – different instrumental breaks kicking off with Andy Burton’s organ, and taking in guitars, piano, sax, and all action trombone from Clark Gayne. But here’s the thing, every one of these solos serves the song, and they’re all fun rather than exhibitions of self-indulgence.  After a sublime key change they could almost pack in right there and it would still be worth the ticket.

Except of course they don’t stop there.  It’s all so intense at one stage the backing singers JaQuita May, Sara Devine and Tania Jones take advantage of a solo to cool themselves off in front of fans next to the keyboards.  The ladies are dancing queens of a wholly different stripe from the usual repetitive groovers, though they’ve evidently been developing more co-ordinated moves since last autumn.  Not sure I approve of that mind you – I like ‘em best at their most non-conformist. Still, they add bucketfuls of snap, crackle and pop to the show, and Ms May is still “hotter’n a fox in a forest fire”, as another musical Van Zandt might have put it.

‘Until The Good Is Gone’ is a tribute to the great radio days of Van Zandt’s youth, featuring
wonderfully gospellated call and response vocals between him and the girls.  ‘Under The Gun’ takes a very different road, with an Arabic intro worthy of Robert Plant leading into a pounding affair in which Steve and his guitar buddy Marc Ribler exchange ringing guitar chords a la Lizzy’s version of ‘Rosalie’, before a wild ending in which drummer Rich Mercurio goes certifiably nuts.

In between there’s ‘Angel Eyes’, which like the later ‘I Saw The Light’ seems almost like a throwaway at first, before turning into something immense.  Moments like these almost sum up the paradox of great pop music, that it can seem ephemeral on the one hand and timeless on the other.

Along the way there are so many different ingredients added to spice up the menu, from the

Stevie rides the night away

sublime Motown-esque melody on ‘Some Things Just Don’t Change’ to the signature terrific horn riff on ‘St Valentine’s Day’ (on which Mercurio again shows that a drummer doesn’t need a solo to take the biscuit), from Morricone-style trumpet and guitar duet on ‘Standing In The Line Of Fire’ to the spot-on doo-wop arrangement of ‘The City Weeps Tonight’, and even the hard rocking of ‘Salvation’, on which the girls go wild.

There’s a slight dip in intensity with James Brown’s funk film theme ‘Down And Out In New York City’, as all five of the horn players take solo turns – all of which are fine in themselves, but which detract from the tension the song generates.  That done, they take a breather for the subdued mandolin-and-accordion of ‘Princess Of Little Italy’.

From there on though, it’s like a bobsleigh ride of thrills and spills, starting with the great hook of the floor-shaking ‘Ride The Night Away’, and continuing with the Latino vibe of ‘Bitter Fruit’, on which Van Zandt cries “Mambo!” to usher in a percussion showcase from Anthony Almonte as a song of defiance turns into a celebration. ‘Forever’ ends the set proper, but although they take a bow they go straight into the encores, and then they bring the house down when they “try something” with a stab of stop-time R’n’B which some of the Geordie locals go nuts as they immediately recognise 'Club-A-Go-Go', a hit by local Sixties heroes The Animals.

‘I Don’t Wanna Go Home’ triggers a forest of hands in the air to greet the aspirational lines “I know we have to try, to reach up and touch the sky”.  Most bands would struggle to top that, but Van Zandt still has ‘Out Of The Darkness’ up his sleeve.  It’s an air-punching anthem for our times, and sums up perfectly Van Zandt’s philosophy of musical and social togetherness.

I love live music, but there are some shows that reach up to another level altogether, and this was one of them.  If you were at this gig, and didn’t come out punch-drunk with enjoyment, and your face tired from smiling, then what the hell do you want from life?

Little Steven and The Disciples Of Soul - O2 Academy, Glasgow, 12 November 2017

Onstage is a man who is a walking encyclopedia of scrappy, underdog American pop, a champion of the music of the urban outsiders.  He’s also a singular guitarist and horn arranger.  He’s backed by an 11-piece band, like he means business.  And three backing singers too.

Oh yeah, the backing singers.  Now, I’m not talking about some autopilot mannekins here.  These are the sassiest trio you’re ever likely to come across.  They're wearing violet silk thigh boots, and these ladies ain’t shrinkin’ from nothin’.  To paraphrase a line from The Commitments, “Inspired management, Brother Steven”.

Steve Van Zandt rides the night away

Yes friends, I am talking about Little Steven, aka Steve Van Zandt, here with his Disciples of Soul.  And joking apart, he rightly tells us at one point that those singers are “dancing their asses off”, setting the tone for a night of sweaty R’n’B and soul and rock’n’roll that demands you shake your booty.

The set is based firstly around the material from new album Soulfire, before winding around to some stuff from his Eighties albums, but before getting to any of that Stevie leads them into the fray with a downright perfect rendition of Tom Petty’s ‘Even The Losers’.

‘I’m Coming Back’, originally crafted for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes before re-surfacing on the new album, has a classic Jukes style horn riff, a chorus so great that it seems simply inevitable, and a scything solo from Van Zandt – and is just one example of thunderous drumming from Rich Mercurio.  Mercurio may work with just a small kit, but he is a veritable beast.

Thereafter Stevie punctuates the set with a guided tour of his inspirations.  Highlights include the likes of Etta James’ ‘Blues Is My Business’, featuring stabbing horns and a wild organ solo from Andy Burton, and ‘Some Things Just Don’t Change’, on which he channels “the King of Despair”, David Ruffin, nailing the soul mood and the phrasing.  There’s ‘The City Weeps Tonight’, a eulogy to post-war harmony groups on which the sheer passion of Van Zandt’s singing is apparent.  Then in complete contrast there’s the restless funk of ‘Down And Out In New York City’.  Originally recorded by James Brown for the movie Black Caesar, it features a succession of flute and horn solos, and a crescendo into which Austin Powers-garbed guitarist Marc Ribler casually slips a reference to the riff from ‘Hey Joe’.

The Unshrinking Violets

Along the way there are other delights, like Van Zandt and Ribler ripping into a guitar duel on ‘Angel Eyes’, the irresistible horns on ‘I Saw The Light’ and Stevie uncorking an eyeballs out solo at one point to get everyone shakin' all over.

Down the stretch though, it’s an absolute melting pot of soul and New York punk and even reggae.  At the outset he may have said with a twinkle in his eye that back in the Eighties he felt the need to do music about politics, but now there was no need so tonight would be “a sanctuary from politics”.  Still, there’s no shaking the relevance of songs like ‘Solidarity’, with its haunting mid-section, as well as ‘I Am A Patriot’ and the Latin-inflected, floor-shaking rhythms of ‘Bitter Fruit’.

He throws in a couple of other Southside classics just for fun, with the rifferama of ‘Ride The Night Away’ and the romance of ‘I Don’t Want To Go Home’.  But there’s no way the night could end with anything other than ‘Out Of The Darkness’, with the crowd pumping their fists and in full voice.

Some folk say that nostalgia’s not what it used to be.  But when Steve Van Zandt revisits his roots and his repertoire with a two hour show of anthemic soul like this, it doesn’t half take me back to my youth.