Review: The Enid, Fleece

Has there ever been a more disaster-prone band than The Enid? This year alone founder Robert John Godfrey had to retire from live performance because of Alzheimer’s, drummer Dave Storey stepped down following hip replacement surgery, exceptional young singer Joe Payne suffered a nervous breakdown and departed, and now Max Read, who’s been in loco parentis for the last few months, has announced that he too will no longer perform with the band after this tour. Oh, and tonight one of three banks of keyboards collapses loudly during – ulp! – The Reaper. Still, as John Cleese’s limbless, gung-ho Black Knight remarks in Monty Python and the Holy Grail: “It’s just a flesh wound!”

So here we are with what can best be described as a Transitional Enid playing before a modest but enthusiastic audience on a tour to mark the 40th anniversary of the band’s magnificent Tarot-themed instrumental debut, In the Region of the Summer Stars. (This symphonic rock masterpiece was, needless to say, released with impeccable timing during punk rock’s year zero, 1976.) Given the circumstances, they could be forgiven for turning in a performance that’s rusty, half-hearted and under-rehearsed, so our expectations are suitably recalibrated.

With no support act, they play two full sets, the first of which comprises material from the 1970s to 1990s. It quickly becomes clear that despite all those last-minute ructions, including the recruitment of excellent new drummer Dom Tofield and an additional multi-instrumentalist on timpani and – woah! – tubular bells, the sextet are on remarkably fine form. Set closer Something Wicked This Way Comes even sounds better than it did on release back in 1983.

On to the main attraction. Not one of the six musicians on stage played on the original album, which throws up obvious questions about the authenticity of the current line-up. It helps that, except when Godfrey was going through an especially camp phase, The Enid have always been about music rather than personalities. The core members of The Enid: The Next Generation are at least one, possibly two generations younger than those who composed this taxing music, but they pull it off seemingly without breaking sweat. Particularly impressive is keyboard player Zach Bullock, who’s positioned at the front of the stage and has no difficulty with classically trained Godfrey’s distinctive flourishes. From the opening bars of The Fool, this dynamic, riff-heavy twiddly prog actually sounds much more at home in 2016 than it ever did in the dark days of the last millennium. Indeed, there’s plenty here that teenage Opeth fans would enjoy, the challenge being to find a way of bringing it to their attention. The beautiful, Rachmaninov-esque The Lovers and The Last Judgement, which borrows cheekily from Ravel’s Bolero, also remind us that The Enid are one of the few acts to fuse classical and rock music successfully.

The central triumvirate of Bullock, Tofield and guitarist Jason Ducker have got some tough decisions to make about where to go next, especially as they currently lack a focal point following the departure of the flamboyant Payne. But Godfrey continues to beaver away on compositional duties in the background and has spoken intriguingly of the next chapter comprising “something darker, heavier, more extreme and relevant to an impending tomorrow.” If their history has taught us anything, it is that it would be unwise to write off The Enid yet.