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Richard Thompson brings new band, new record, to North Jersey

IN TUNE: Richard Thompson and his new band played two shows in one concert Friday night in Montclair — the first a run-through of his tragically cynical new album, the second a ferocious run-through of, as he put it, “our greatest hits, with a small ‘h’.”

Photo Credit: by Jerry DeMarco CLIFFVIEWPILOT.COM
Photo Credit: by Jerry DeMarco CLIFFVIEWPILOT.COM
Photo Credit: by Jerry DeMarco CLIFFVIEWPILOT.COM
Photo Credit: by Jerry DeMarco CLIFFVIEWPILOT.COM

PHOTOS by Jerry DeMarco CLIFFVIEWPILOT.COM

“I thought I’d play our new record straight through,” Thompson wryly told the Wellmont Theater crowd at the outset, “and then do ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ all the way through.”

Be warned, those of you who have tickets for Saturday night at Town Hall or Sunday night in Poughkeepsie: While poking fun at the gimmicky practice of playing entire albums, Thompson nonetheless did “Dream Attic” in sequence. And for the first time in awhile, he had a full band to fill out the sound.

It was easy to see why: The songs are dark, deeply moody and, for a longtime fan, not instantly accessible.

Unlike his solo shows, when the songs are brief and pointed, the full-band format also gave way to extended jams. The common thread — even when multi-talented, longtime sideman Pete Zorn offered up a saxophone solo or the understated Joel Zifkin cut loose on the fiddle — was Thompson’s dazzling guitar work.


And it is dazzling, whether Thompson is buzzing his way through a sweet little rock-and-roller, opening a vein into wailing blues or playing heavy-metal guitar hero. Black-clad and bereted, as usual, he frequently massaged the bottom strings low on the fretboard — eyes closed, wincing with each pinch of a  note.

“Among the Gorse, Among the Grey” was the first of several dirge-like broodings, broken up only now and then — once, by the hoedown-styled “Haul Me Up,” featuring a slick fiddle solo and backup harmonies from the entire band, not to mention lyrics to slash your wrists to:

Now here comes Jezebel, sweet as the morning
Holds out a cup and I’m tempted to drink
Six thousand voices ringing in the rafters
How can I dream when I can’t even think?

“Did I mention that all of the happy songs are in the second set?” Thompson later cracked.

He wasn’t kidding.

Another low fretboard solo highlighted the mournful “Burning Man,” Thompson’s nod to the annual event in the Black Rock Desert of northern Nevada, a festival that gets its moniker from the ritualistic burning of a wooden effigy.

It only got darker from there, with the light-polka of “Demons in Her Dancing Shoes” setting the stage for a tale of the infamous Kray twins, Ronald and Reginald, ruthless English mobsters who mixed with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland and others, while running amok on the streets of London like the sociopaths they were.

The closest Thompson came to a pop tune was “Big Sun Falling in the River.” But it was another mirage: “On the pleasure wheel / Pain is all I feel / And she bites her lip.

Then came “Stumble On,” an even darker tune, if you can imagine — surprising, really, from a man so full of mirth, one whose wit is always playful, even while his lyrics plumb the depths of anger, suspicion and distrust.

The stage had become a bonfire when Thompson slipped in a sort of jig that built to a cacophonous roar, reminiscent in some ways of the Pogues. The song, “Sidney Wells,” is about a murder.

That, in turn, set up “Brother Slips Away,” the kind of ballad Thompson’s equally notable ex-wife, Linda, would have broken your heart with back when the public deterioration of their marriage fueled some of her mate’s most intense, focused work.

No surprise, then, that Thompson followed with a rocker (“Bad Again”) about getting in Dutch with the missus: “I put a TV in the doghouse and my favorite chair / I spend so much of my time in there.” He then closed the first show — er, set — with “If Love Whispers Your Name” — stacked with a wall of “never again” declarations.

As unsettling as those first 80 minutes were, the second half was equally inspiring — right from the opener, Fairport Convention’s rollicking “Time Will Show the Wiser.” Thompson then pulled out the more than 20-year-old  “Can’t Win,” closing it with a mad jam of wailing notes, as he stomped his foot and blazed through a solo that lasted nearly five minutes.


He finally strapped on the acoustic guitar for the brilliant “Al Bowly’s in Heaven,” another song that reaches back to the 80s but sounded smoky and slick in the hands of his sidemen. Applause went up as Thompson reunited with his aquamarine electric and hit the opening notes of “Wall of Death.” Engaging as it is, you miss Linda — or at least their son, Teddy, who handles her parts deftly when he accompanies his dad.

The sing-along continued, as Thompson closed the second half with a breakneck version of “Tear-Stained Letter,” always an opportunity for the faithful to open their throats when their hero steps away from the microphone and leans forward to listen.

The encore was brief but exquisite:

First, the magnificent but unfortunately overlooked “Take Care the Road You Choose,” from 2007’s “Sweet Warrior.” If you haven’t heard it, find it. There’s a lovely solo version on YouTube.

Finally, perhaps the crown jewel of Thompson’s many treasures: “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight” — a near-hit when sung by the former Mrs. T.

In some 25 years of Richard Thompson concerts, this may have been the night I felt her absence the most. Of all the reunions that have been cooked up the past decade (personal favorite: the Pixies), THAT would be the one I‘d trade every concert the rest of my life for.

Performance-wise, Thompson’s new band stumbles at times, even though they recorded “Dream Attic.” It’s understandable, though, given that they only just began the tour a few weeks ago, behind a leader accustomed to D.I.Y. Both Zorn (surprisingly) and drummer Michael Jerome sometimes overplayed, jamming the signal instead of opening holes for Thompson’s notes to clearly cut through.

As refreshing a change as it was to catch my favorite guitarist with support, I’ll be happier to enjoy just the man and his 12-string next time around. That would be Saturday, March 19, at Zankel Hall.

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