Review: Steve Harley Acoustic Band

The Haymarket, Basingstoke, Saturday, June 18

It’s often said that if you can remember the 60’s and 70’s, then you weren’t there. Well, I can remember some of the 60’s and lots about the 70’s, yet I certainly was there. Nevertheless, some things passed me by, so what did I miss?

Well, one thing I seem to have missed is Steve Harley. Yes, I remember his band, Cockney Rebel, and their one big hit, but apart from that he passed under my radar, perhaps during my “lost weekend” on wine gums and Corona.

Anyway, yer man brought The Steve Harley Acoustic Band to Basingstoke’s Haymarket Theatre last Saturday and blow me down if there weren’t 300 or so fellow “boomers” who really could remember him! And we’re not talking casual fans, here – these were diehard “Harleybabes,” many of whom had seen him perform on countless occasions. So, a love in, then – very 70’s!

But I think I can see why they keep coming back. The guy has a presence that is just infectious – passionate, chatty, witty and, most of all, genuinely caring that his fans are there for him. At one point he gave one very happy lady his harmonica then, bethinking himself, sent his stagehand to get the box for her, too. Trust me, that’s not typical rock star behaviour, and the world felt just a tiny bit nicer for his kindness.

The acoustic band – guitar, double bass and fiddle – was certainly not a rock band and played an eclectic mixture of folk, jazz and pop styles. He started with some interpretations of other people’s songs: The Beatles’ “I’ve Just Seen A Face,” Chris Farlowe’s “Out Of Time” and a gorgeous version of Cat Stevens’s “How Can I Tell You” that left Mrs. Reviewer and I in tears.

Soon, though, it was time for his own stuff. “Sebastian” got the full-length treatment, while a gypsy-jazz version of “Mr. Soft” was irresistibly boppy. Naturally, there were lots of others that I couldn’t remember, but the adoring fans could and they lapped ‘em up.

The evening finished with “Come Up And See Me” – what else - and as the opening bars rang out, people left their seats to boogie their hearts out just a little closer to their idol and a little closer, vicariously, to their youth. It was probably just how things were at the 6th. form disco, but I can’t remember that, either.

Chris Parkinson-Brown