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Review: Marillion/Antimatter, Forum, Bath
Liverpool’s Antimatter have been plying their trade for 21 years now, but their status as relative minnows in the big prog pool means that we get few live shows. Last time they played round here was at the Exchange in front of a modestly sized but fiercely loyal audience five years ago. The opportunity to perform in front of the huge Marillion crowd – albeit in stripped-down, semi-acoustic duo form with founder Mick Moss joined by veteran collaborator Dave Hall on electric guitar – was clearly too good to pass up.
There’s no change to the formula: beautiful melancholic prog in the Anathema vein, laden down by Moss’s relentlessly gloomy lyrics and leavened by his jokey, cheeky chappie between-song banter. This format strips the songs of their widescreen power, but the Marillion audience respond appreciatively and set-closer Between the Atoms gets a huge cheer.
is needed now More than ever
Marillion get a standing ovation just for turning up. That’s not simply because their audience is partisan and rabidly devoted, though that helps. This prematurely titled Light at the End of the Tunnel tour nearly didn’t happen after the UK’s biggest genuinely independent act discovered that no covid insurance was available. If just one member of the band or their entourage succumbed before the tour started, or while on the road, they’d still be liable for the huge costs of trucking, lighting and crew that a show of this size requires. So, once again, they appealed to the fanbase – this time to become their insurance company, putting up £150,000 that would only be used if needed.
There’s a palpable sense of relief that the plague-free tour is nearly over, with just two nights at Hammersmith to go. Frontman Steve Hogarth jokes that they’ll play those shows even if they all fall ill. “Your money’s safe with us!” he grins. Whatever trepidation Marillion might have felt on that first night a couple of weeks ago has now been eclipsed by the sheer joy of playing live again.
Opening with the title track from Sounds That Can’t Be Made, they take a deep dive into the post-1989 catalogue, springing a few surprises for those of us who can resist taking a peek at the set list. Even those who crave spoilers are wrongfooted by Marillion’s habit of refreshing the songs around those big tentpole set-pieces.
Assisted by a clear, pristine sound and carefully designed lighting that’s complementary rather than bombastic, they revisit a couple of albums that have been neglected on recent tours. The transitional Seasons End might have been a bit of a mixed bag, but its best moments have evidently aged well. The epic Berlin sounds great and The Release is sensational. Similarly, the commercial suicide concept album Brave has grown in stature over the years, and that watery intro gets a huge cheer as they proceed to serve up album openers Bridge, Living with the Big Lie and Runaway. Hell, for a moment there it felt like they might play the entire thing. No one would have objected.
That rare brush with critical acclaim, 1995’s Afraid of Sunlight, is also dusted down and mined for King and the aptly titled hit-that-should-have-been, Beautiful.
They’ve done a lockdown album, obviously. Everybody has. But the upcoming An Hour Before It’s Dark is billed as being resolutely upbeat. That’s certainly borne out by the driving three-part epic unveiled tonight. Be Hard On Yourself opens with a big choral keyboard flourish and gives Mark Kelly a well-deserved moment in the spotlight. Drummer Ian Mosley is also on powerful form inside his acoustic shield man-cave, while Duracell bunny bassist Pete Trewavas bounces around the stage in contrast to guitarist Steve Rothery, who appears lost in concentration as usual.
Matey, chatty frontman Hogarth addresses several members of the audience by name, underlining the intimate connection between band and audience, which always runs the risk of alienating outsiders – had any been present. He also wields a guitar largely as a prop, enjoys a couple of costume changes (including a tasselled jacket whose rock couture antecedents can be found in the wardrobes of Roger Daltrey and Ozzy Osbourne), and is alert to the danger of turning into the prog Billy Bragg. Tonight, he limits himself to a brief if venomous assault on government corruption. But the audience won’t let it lie, shouting out those trigger words. “Tony Blair!” bellows one fella. “Have you seen his house?” replies Hogarth, rising to the bait. “I have a picture of it on my laptop just to keep me angry.”
In a big-value two-and-a-half hour show, Marillion don’t skimp on the encores. First up is all five parts of The Leavers from Fuck Everyone and Run, the euphoric One Tonight forming a fitting conclusion (though it would be grand to hear them play The New Kings round our way sometime). But no, that’s not quite the end. A second encore brings the title track from Afraid of Sunlight and a return to Brave for Made Again, which Hogarth introduces as a “a simple little thing without all our usual 10,000 time changes”.
That light at the end of the tunnel might not be quite as bright or close as everyone had hoped, thanks principally to members of the idiot community, but an impressively on-form Marillion continue to provide welcome musical accompaniment as we trudge slowly towards it.
All pix by Mike Evans
Read more: Metal and Prog Picks: November 2021
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