Review: Camel, The Forum, Bath

You know you’re at a progressive rock gig when members of the audience turn up early and form an orderly queue to photograph the band’s equipment. Nerdular corrections are welcome, but by my reckoning Camel haven’t played round these parts since their 1984 Colston Hall show as part of the Stationary Traveller tour. More than 30 years on and a few men down (final encore Long Goodbyes from that very album is played as a tribute to vocalist Chris Rainbow and keyboard player Guy LeBlanc, both of whom died this year), they have no trouble in packing out the rather lovely Forum. Its former function as the largest single-screen cinema in the region also comes in handy for impressionistic projections accompanying many of the songs.

Camel ease their way in gently to this generous two-hours-plus show with their very first single, Never Let Go, followed by Lost and Found from 1999’s Rajaz, but hit their stride with the jazzy The White Rider from Mirage, which is greeted with a huge cheer. Given talented LeBlanc’s death just a few weeks ago, they might be forgiven for sounding a tad rusty with Ton Scherpenzeel drafted back into the band after a long period off the road. But this was a confident, relaxed performance with a few surprises in the revamped set list. Perhaps the most audacious of these was this it boasted absolutely nothing from the band’s best-loved album, The Snow Goose. Presumably they felt they’d flogged this to death on the previous tour, so offered instead no fewer than five songs from its follow-up, Moonmadness, with aptly named bassist Colin Bass taking the vocals for a coruscating version of the late Peter Bardens’ beautiful Spirit of the Water.

The focal point remains founder, chief songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Andy Latimer, whose magnificent guitar playing is fully deserving of that over-used term ‘mellifluous’. With two keyboardists on stage in the current line-up, he sticks mostly to guitar, with a bit of flute and recorder, serving up a quite stunning solo during Ice – the epic standout track from I Can See Your House From Here.

Unlike certain other prog acts with roots in the 1970s, there’s little in Camel’s music that anchors them firmly to that decade, making it easily accessible to younger fans of the likes of Steven Wilson and Opeth. And having fulfilled the nostalgia obligation early in the set, they conclude with an unexpected triptych from 1991’s Steinbeck-inspired Dust and Dreams (Mother Road, Hopeless Anger and Whispers in the Rain), which includes some of the heaviest material Latimer has written. Inevitable encore Lady Fantasy then gets a well-deserved standing ovation. Let’s hope we don’t have to wait another three decades for a return visit.

Pic copyright Vincenzo Nicolello