by MeBHank » 05 Feb 2014, 03:45
Some of you saw the Shadows in the very early days, when Tony was still their drummer and Jet was still Vitapointe blond. You saw and experienced the raw energy, the mohair suits and the Meazzi tones. Lucky buggers. The Shadows then were the epitome of cool. I was never able to see them when they were known as "hip", talented kids. Hank was bouncy, geeky and fun, but still cool. But, as far as I can tell, after some point in 1962 they were never quite so cool again. As soon as Hank proclaimed "Oh, I feel so cool!" sporting what is possibly the most uncool haircut I have ever seen, they lost a certain amount of credibility. I suppose no-one would have guessed that years later his more mature version of cool would prompt thousands of people to dub him "The Master". Please allow me to wax lyrical about the coolest vision I ever saw:
It is 40 years since the Shadows last wore shiny mohair. I am 15. I have a ticket for the best seat I've ever had for a Hank Marvin concert: just four rows from the front. I have already familiarised myself with the tour brochure. It is full of vivid photos which, over the next few weeks, will become forever burned into my brain as had those of its last four predecessors. I am in the auditorium, looking nowhere but the stage; an immaculately tidy area which is dominated by new, sleek, black sound equipment, punctuated by splashes of chrome. My eyes are drawn helplessly to the very centre of the stage, to the wondrous sight of what is, at this point, my favourite guitar in the world: Hank's own 40th Anniversary Stratocaster (never daring to entertain the thought that within ten years I would play that very guitar in my own house!). It is lit front and back by sharp, white spotlights. I am devouring every detail about it. The pale amber maple, the gold, the white, that red, all highly polished, contrasting stunningly with the blue stage lighting. The colour balance is perfection itself.
The Strat is swiftly whisked away before both house lights and stage lights fade. We are engulfed in darkness. An old-fashioned drum ominously pounds the first beats of the night. Watch these two clips:
I am so glad that those videos are on YouTube, but they will never communicate the details. In terms of professionalism, sound reproduction and visual perfection, the 2002 tour trumped all others I had seen thus far. The man himself? The crispness of the press of the suit and the snow-white of the silk shirt. The polish of the boots, the glasses and the guitar. The reflection of the spotlight from the Strat darting like a red, white and gold kingfisher amongst the audience and up the walls of the theatre. The man with the proud walk and the warm smile who had full control of the stage, his band and the audience.
I have never seen anything as cool as that, and I never will again.
For pity's sake, people! Don't get me reminiscing, it's dangerous. I almost got carried away there.
Justin Daish