The story so far...
Although primarily known as a singer, I've always considered myself as much a musician as a frontman. I've played guitar and written songs since my teens, and originally intended to become a bass-player. Singing was something I blundered into along the way.
I never planned to go solo, but now I'm working on my own I've got the freedom to explore some of those skills. Most of the guitars and bass on the album have been played by me. I still love the thrill of working with other musicians, but it's oddly liberating being in overall control
I have an extensive back-catalogue. As well as a number of studio and live albums with Pallas (the band I fronted for 25 years), I've appeared on a number of other recordings
These include Abel Ganz (the Glasgow band I left to join Pallas), Prog-supergroup NEO, the rock-opera 'SHE', and guest appearamces with Parzivals Eye, Harvest, Strangers on a Train etc.
Steve Hackett 'Genesis Revisited' Tour
An unexpected invitation
It was mid-July. I'd been spending some time getting my head around the logistics of getting 'The Daughters of Expediency' and Magenta over to the European mainland for a couple of gigs at the beginnig of November. The gigs - at de Boerderij in Zoetermeer, and Spirit of 66 in Verviers - had been long in the planning. But organising a bassist from Glasgow, a drummer from the Northwest et al into rehearsal and travel arrangements was a bit of a poser. I'd finally located a splitter van based in Glasgow that I was on the verge of booking when I noticed an e-mail from Steve Hackett. He was asking, in all innocence. if I'd be interested in joining him on a few dates he was planning in October - including the Royal Albert Hall!!!! After the room stopped spinning I e-mailed back to say I'd be honoured. Only slight hitch was that Steve wanted me to do it solo and acoustic. Nothing like a challenge!!
DAY ONE:BIRMINGHAM
Almost three months later to the day and I found myself at Birmingham Symphony Hall. I'd managed to talk my way past security into the car-park, and found myself wandering down a seemingly endless corridor trying to find someone to introduce myself to. Much to my relief it seemed everyone was actually expecting me to turn up, and the invitation to take part hadn't been just some bizarre dream or elaborate hoax. Naturally the crew were all busy with setting up the Hackett show, but I managed to find out where my stuff should go, and that I even had my own dressing room (with a fridge - and a piano!!)
I was efficiently sound-checked and joined Steve, band and crew for dinner in the catering area. Fabulous food, and everyone was really friendly, but it felt weird just chatting away with a gig of this scale imminent. For them it was just another gig - for me it was a whole new experience. Support acts don't often get an easy ride from an audience, and I'd no idea how the 'me and one guitar' approach would go down. It was new to me, let alone them.
My very own piano
They say you should never meet your heroes. But 'they' clearly haven't met Steve Hackett. A more kind and unassuming gentleman you could never hope to meet. I'd met Steve and his wife Jo a few times in the recent past and they always show an interest in what I'm up to. I was definitely being made to feel welcome.
A lovely dressing room entirely to myself. That was another new experience. I'm used to being part of a band, working with friends and crew. Now I showered, changed and waited all alone for the clock to move slowly, inexorably, towards show-time!!!!
Way too early I ran downstairs to the wings to hang nervously around till the allotted hour. Trying to get a sense of the room, the crowd. How on earth to play this. Just as I thought I was about to burst with nerves it was time… I walked out onto that big empty space in front of a capacity crowd. Much to my astonishment there was a ripple of applause. They sounded 'friendly'. Let's see how this goes?
Birmingham Dressing Room
I'll admit it - it was all I could do to stop shaking as I played the first number - but as I finished 'Greater Glory' there was an infinitely more enthusiastic response than the polite smattering I was expecting. The game was all to play for. By the time I got to the finisher 'Begin Again', I knew I'd made quite a few new friends. The crowd clapped along with the bodhran part like they all knew it well. I hadn't anticipated this level of response.
I just about fell off the stage with relief and excitement. It had all gone so much better than I'd hoped. Steve's manager, Brian, came up to me to tell me how well he thought it'd gone. 'That's just what we want from a support' he said. Out by the merch desk I was astounded by the well wishers and the amount of stuff I had to sign. 'I could get used to this' I thought.
DAY TWO: BRISTOL
I'd always wanted to play the Colston Hall. The old band used to play Bristol quite a lot back in the day, and I'm pretty sure they did Colston before I joined. It's one of those classic rock venues. A slightly jaded grandeur with a shiny new reception building built on the front. Much to my surprise I was able to get parked at the venue and haul my merch inside. My guitars et al had kindly been whisked off with the Hackett backline in one of the trucks. I was nevertheless reassured to see it all neatly stacked by the side of the stage.
I was feeling a little more relaxed about things this time, and felt much more at home with band and crew. Nevertheless I had important guests coming. Nellie - who runs TheMerchDesk.com - was going to be there, as well as Rob and Chris from Magenta. I was hopeful it would be another good night. the venue itself seemed much less intimidating.
BRISTOL COLSTON HALL
Soundcheck was quick. Richard on the monitor desk seemed to have me sussed. A little extra reverb in the in-ears and I was happy.
This time I relished going on stage. Still a bit nervous, but in a more anticipatory way. And off it went like clockwork. Was really enjoying the singing, though I was making a few schoolboy errors on the guitar. The sound was immense. I couldn't quite believe that this was just me and my trusty acoustics. I swam gratefully in the sea of sound.
Afterwards everyone was complimentary, though most of my guests had missed my set due to a huge traffic jam. But it was good to talk to Rob and Chris about our plans for the following weekend on the european mainland dates that were to follow straight after the Hackett ones. I left the venue even later than the night before, but was still buzzing when I got back to Surrey in the early hours.
But there was a mountain still to climb. The Royal Albert Hall was next!!!!
THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL
I woke early again. Hadn't really had a decent night's sleep for several days. The late nights and the permanent state of tension I'd been in were taking their toll. I tried to nap for most of the morning but I just couldn't stop thinking about the day ahead. Eventually I could stand it no more. Made what preparations I thought I needed, and headed into London. Parking anywhere near the RAH was going to be a nightmare, so I drove up into Barnes, dropped the car off in a side-street and took the bus.
It was a beautiful sunny day. One to lift the spirits. I even managed to get the front two seats on the top deck to myself as the bus slowly made it's way towards Kensington Gore. The bus stop is right opposite the venue, and I stopped for a moment to take it in. I've been there loads of times. Seen several concerts there. Even did some filming there for a News Channel piece I did some years back. But as Peter Gabriel would have it 'Today is different.. Today is not the same!…'
Walked all the way round the building till I found the right entrance, and then another walk around the corridors till I located the entrance to the 'back-stage' area.
The place was buzzing with activity. There seemed to be many more people involved in tonight's show. Several 'guest' musicians would be taking part, and the whole thing was being filmed. The guest list alone needed several people to administer. I'd been assigned a lovely dressing room. Well-appointed, but cosy - though some way from everyone else.
Having settled myself in, I decided to have a look in the auditorium. The band soundcheck was already well underway, and lighting and video were running through their paces. The sheer scale of the operation was breathtaking. But it had to be to match the scale of the room. It just seemed to stretch out for ever. The ornate balconies sweeping round and behind. This place is a symbol of the grandeur of Empire. Built at a time when Britain ruled half the world. Its very being reeks of self-confidence.
Above: Hackett Sound-check, and view from the stage
Left: the door to my dressing room
I don't think I was alone in feeling over-awed. Roine Stolt of the Flower Kings, (who would be guesting later on 'March of the Giant Hogweed) seemed to share my wonderment. 'There's nothing like this in Sweden!' he said. Ray Wilson seemed less overcome by the venue's charms. 'It'll be fine!' All the guests needed soundchecking - and perhaps the odd bit of rehearsal to refresh memories about how certain things would work - so the soundchecks went on a bit longer than usual.
Although the time was ticking away, I was strangely calm. The success of the previous two evenings had at least reassured me that my set seemed to work. Soon enough my stuff was being rigged on-sage. Out I went to do my thing. All went remarkably smoothly. I was trying not to worry too much about which prog-rock gods of the backstage might be listening in.
And that was it. Dinner in the backstage labyrinth, then trying to dodge camera crews, and being studiously ignored by the many of Steve's guests who were milling around. The one notable exception was Steve's mum, who Jo Hackett introduced me to. 'Steve tells me you've got a lovely voice, and play guitar as well!'. She was lovely, but it was a bit odd imagining the kind of conversation with her son where my name might have come up. Several of my own family were going to be here tonight, and I was trying not to think about that too hard. I didn't want to let anybody down.
Back to my cosy dressing room to get ready. Once again feeling like the loneliest person on the planet as the minutes dragged by. Social media's a real boon in this sort of situation. Sharing silly jokes on Twitter made it feel less like I was on my own. Texts and messages let me know my own guests were safely in place
SHOWTIME!!!!
The walk from the backstage door to centre-stage seemed like a mile or so. I stood alongside Steve's manager as he made sure all was in place before giving the go ahead for house lights down. 'Ready?!' And that was it. Before I knew it I found myself walking out onto THAT stage. Again a ripple of welcoming applause, and a few distant whoops. Sounds like 'The House of Progression' are out in force tonight!
And actually the gig itself went like a dream. I played well, I sang well, and I could feel I was being warmly received. But the sound of that many people clapping along to 'Begin Again' is, I think, something that will stay with me forever.
All too soon it was over. I tried not to milk the applause too much - for fear of being unseemly. But I had to force my self to get off that stage. I could have stayed there all night!!!! And who was waiting in the wings to congratulate me? None other than Mr H himself.
The rest of the evening was a whirl of snatched conversations with family and old friends as well as catching as much as I could of the Hackett and show. The guys were all on fire. They were playing like their lives depended on it and each and every one of the guest appearances was a triumph in its own right. It truly was a special night. The audience response confirmed it.
Having my own guests to attend to, I didn't really mingle much at the aftershow party, but everyone was clearly on a major high. I realised that Hackett's band had probably been just as tense about the show as I was. This was a big deal however you cut it.
All too soon it was time to wish everyone goodnight and find my way back to the car and home. I missed the last No10 bus by seconds. 'F*** it!' I thought.' Someone who's just played the Albert Hall deserves a taxi!!!'
Copyright; Alan Reed 2012 - All rights reserved
