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Nick Morgan and crew
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Concert
Review by Nick Morgan |
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SOUTHSIDE JOHNNY AND THE ASBURY JUKES
The Astoria, London, October
27th 2006 |
| It’s
been sometime since we were at the Astoria, that
lovely former pickle factory on Charing Cross Road.
And in fact since our last visit there’s been
a bit of a hoo-hah
about the future of the old place, with conspiracy
theorists pointing the finger at freeholders property
group Derwent Valley, claiming that they had plans
to redevelop the whole site once the current lease
to the Mean Fiddler group expires. As it turns out
there was just a little August media-madness
at work; Derwent are apparently in the clear, but
an even bigger threat comes from a proposed
railway development (PDF document)
that would see the theatre giving way to a huge
new Underground station. If you’re at all
concerned about the loss of this smelly London landmark
rock venue (I am) then have a look here
or here. |
| Yeah
– it’s a Friday night and we’d
forgotten that the unstoppable GAYE nightclub means
that Astoria gigs always start early, so by the
time we arrive from an excellent
early dinner the place is packed (the upstairs
is closed, so it’s probably only three quarters
full) and veteran New Jersey rockers and intimates
of the great, Southside
Johnny [Editor’s note: are you
sure you don’t mean Johnnie?] and his Asbury
Jukes have just hit the stage. Now if you’re
seriously concerned about spelling then let me mention
the following. His real name is John Lyon. ‘Southside’
come from his love of Chicago blues, Asbury from
Asbury Park, the suburb where he cut his musical
teeth. And Jukes (the good pickle factory folk spelt
it ‘Dukes’ on the tickets) from Little
Walter’s band. Not that we can really see
either Johnny or his Jukes. Our usual spot is taken,
and we get stuck in a flow of people moving to and
from the bar with the inexorable certainty of an
ebbing tide. It’s claustrophobic, but a glimpse
of space to the left sees us move to the other side
of the theatre where we tuck in comfortably below
the bar, but on a raised podium that gives us a
good sight of the stage across the sea of balding
heads in front of us. |
Actually
that’s not entirely true. It has the feel
of a blokish night, but we’re in the thick
of a gang of fiftyish leather jacketed bald blokes
and their very blonde partners (also leather jacketed
and hairdressers) who are giving a master-class
in binge drinking and chain-smoking that any ASBO-seeking
youngster should watch with awe. It becomes apparent
that they’ve come up to Town from the East
(Essex that is), just like they used to back in
the seventies, and like almost everyone else in
the audience they know all the songs, all the words,
and even when to punch their fists in the air. Actually,
they’re just here to party.
On the stage the diminutive Johnny [Editor’s
note – are you sure?], sadly sans leather
jacket, sunglasses and hair, is giving an astonishing
lesson in east-coast (New Jersey, not Canvey Island)
white R&B singing. I tried to figure out how
old he was until good manners got the better of
me. |
 |
|
He’s accompanied by original Juke Eddie
Manion on saxophone (who’s also been touring
with Springsteen in the Seeger Sessions Band), and
long-time sidekick Bobby
Bandiera on guitar (who’s now also a fixture
in Bon Jovi) – but the whole band are, as
I believe they say, kicking, remarkable given the
time they’ve spent on the road – there’s
no going through the motions here, and special mention
should be made of keyboard player Jeff Kazee, who
has a wonderful Hammond B3 moment in ‘Fever’.
Set list? Well I could hardly take notes, but I
know they played ‘Sweeter than honey’,
‘Shake ‘em down’, ‘Tired
skin’, ‘Souls on fire’, a nice
Little Walter cover with some very decent harmonica
playing from SJ, ‘Sweeter than honey’,
‘When Rita leaves’, ‘Trapped again’,
‘Fever’ (simply excellent), ‘Love
on the wrong side of town’, ‘Passion
Street’, ‘I don’t wanna go home’,
and of course, ‘Havin’ a party’.
By which time everyone was – including the
girls (a term which is used in the loosest possible
sense) who had got up on stage to dance and sing,
and even the fellow from the audience who was playing
Kazee’s spare keyboard – having a party
of their own. Simply fantastic. We all parted with
hugs and embraces like the very best of friends,
and I couldn’t help thinking, as we walked
through a chill late-October London, that if every
Friday night was a Southside Johnny night, then
the world would surely be a better place to live
in. - Nick Morgan (concert photographs by Kate) |
Check
the index of all reviews:
Nick's Concert Reviews
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There's nothing more down there... |
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