REVIEW: Vivian Stanshall at 80, Liverpool Philharmonic Music Room

PART posthumous birthday bash, part album launch, Liverpool was once again the place to be for those with a penchant for Nice Things of days gone by…

‘Vivian Stanshall at 80’ was the name of the concert, a celebration of the man - of Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band fame among much else - and the release of two brand new albums piecing together his final works.

The producers and aficionados behind those two intricate projects - rock album Dog Howl in Tune and comedy monologue Rawlinson’s End - are two city-based creative multi-hyphenates Andy Frizell and Michael Livesley; the former played with Stanshall in his final months, the latter brought his rich comic work back to life with The Sir Henry Show (that’s the short version, at least - read more in my interview with them both, here).

One of their two gigs this year to celebrate the life of Stanshall, it came with the seal of approval from both his son Rupert and surviving Bonzo Rodney Slater, who each joined in with the evening’s festivities.

And what a treat. Like the Blues Brothers meeting Monty Python, Stanshall’s music occupies a delightfully strange, psychedelic place where music hall meets soul. It is something of its time, for sure, yet also timeless.

This lovely, rousing mish-mash of genres and sounds came through in songs and snippets from the new albums as well as Bonzo classics including Jollity Farm and Death Cab for Cutie.

Among those who took to the stage were ‘masked drummer’ Roy Martin, a Merseyside-based percussionist who only recently was discovered to be the drummer on many of Stanshall’s sessions that became part of Dog Howl. (My piece linked above, with a section on Liverpool links to Stanshall did not include this fortuitous factoid - apologies!). Musical tribute was also paid to another much-missed Bonzo, the late, great Neil Innes.

As an impromptu MC of sorts, Stanshall (junior) spanned it all quite wonderfully, with Rupert interspersing the music with memories of his father that painted a vivid and intimate picture of an eccentric and unique English artist.

“There’s no egos up here,” he said proudly from the stage, thanking the talented band at the end of the show. Funnily enough, that was already a note I’d made myself to mention in this review. The love, care and attention to detail in crafting the gig - along with the joy of the absurdity of it all - was apparent. A night full of camaraderie, memories, impeccable musicianship, and bloody good cheer.

Photos by Brian Roberts

You can hear more about the show from Michael Livesley and lighting director Paul Carmichael in the latest episode of their podcast Nice Things, which is always great fun.