I was expecting this to be good: it certainly was. I went along as more of a casual admirer of Dexy’s Midnight Runners (and its individualistic lead singer and composer Kevin Rowland); someone who listened to and liked Too Rye Ay and (in particular) Don’t Stand Me Down. My brother (someone a little more of a Dexys fan) asked me back in the spring if I wanted to go and see them. As it was a long time since I last went to a gig (late 2019) and knowing that Dexys only tour one or two times every decade, I was pleased to have an autumn night out in Wolverhampton to look forward to.
On the night, as we were heading towards the venue we came across Kevin Rowland and the band (just before the doors opened at 7 o’clock). As we were walking across the Civic centre plaza in Wolverhampton, he and the rest of the band were emerging down the steps of St Peters Church from the right. It seemed a very Kev Rowland thing, going for a stroll just before a gig in a big pink beret. Too shy by half to approach him, we sheepishly followed them round to the Civic Hall, a 1938 building in the classical idiom: well-scrubbed on the exterior and stylishly refurbed inside. Also inside were eye-wateringly expensive drinks: a glass of Moretti served in a plastic mug (that resembled a surgical container) and a bottle of Oasis came to £11.
Act one of the concert was a full performance of Dexys’ recent release The Feminine Divine: nine songs exploring Rowland’s typical themes of love, emotion, maturity and sexual politics, in his (too brutally honest for comfort) manner. The opening songs looked back at his early adulthood and evoked the aggressive, masculine perspective of a young man in an early relationship. Then Rowland made a startling 180 degree turn with a series of confessional songs – titled My Goddess and My Submission – of a converted (adulatory) feminist. I found it startling, although I well understood that Rowland is a performer and composer who pushes boundaries. My brother was well put off by the onstage dramatics – he only liked the music, which was indeed excellent. Rowland’s support was five multi-instrumental players, performing Dexys’ familiar sound: pop-rock with vivid horn and fiddle flourishes (and plenty of spoken dialogue passages). His voice also was in good shape: soulful with a black country twang.
After the interval the show resumed with a greatest hits set of nine more songs, six from 1982’s Too Rye Ay. As the band opened with Plan B, the audience (who had sat for the opening half) rose to stand for the rest of the show. We two – just past forty – were visibly younger than the rest of the crowd, who all looked in their fifties and beyond – I couldn’t spot any student Dexys fans in the auditorium (tickets weren’t inexpensive – we paid £40 to sit towards the rear of the stalls). That noted, the audience lapped it all up. The band played the cathartic classics: Geno, Jackie Wilson Said (with the famous darts-related backdrop projection present) and of course, Come on Eileen. Nervous at the start of the evening, by the end Rowland was visibly affected by the rousing reception he received from his hometown audience.
Verdict: Superb show from a classic group – terrific to see Kev Rowland perform live. 9/10.
wanderingstation 