Brooker / British Rock Symphony

8 March, Brisbane, Australia ... and more

Here is a very rough and biased review of the "Ultimate Rock Symphony" which played in Brisbane on 8 March 2000.

The general consensus from my friends who also attended the concert was that Gary was the only good thing about the whole night. One of these friends was the guitarist from my band, who has only ever heard Home and some songs from A Salty Dog. He also said that A Salty Dog was the greatest song out of the whole set (amazing considering two things: 1. My guitarist is a keen Pantera and Metallica fan, and 2. The song was up against greats like Kashmir and Won't Get Fooled Again.)

The appearance of two Aussies at the show did little for me, I must say. Jimmy Barnes (of Cold Chisel) and Billy Thorpe (of BT & the Aztecs) took to swearing at the audience for no apparent reason when they weren't singing. I don't think the whole thing was a shambles, as most Brisbanites seem to have thought. Nikki Lanbourne was much better than people say, and Roger Daltrey will never look any better on stage.

My father and I are avid Procol fans, and on Sunday 20 February he and my mother had attended a party at Chris Copping's home (Dad is a friend of both Chris and Dave Ball). Before dad left, I jokingly asked him if he could find out from Gary what the piano chords to A Christmas Camel were (I could work them out myself but I couldn't be arsed - and why not get the info straight from the horse's mouth?) Well, my father did ask, and he received, but not before Gary and Chris, (whilst Gary was trying to remember the song!) jammed apparently for about an hour or two!!! I only hope someone taped the performance

So now I had the almost phenomenal privilege of dining with Gary Brooker and Franky at Michael's at South Bank, which was a night I will never forget. This was the night before the concert. Gary came across as a true gent, but not beyond the odd pun or deadpan remark. The only thing I regret about the night was that when I left the room to go to the toilet, Gary turned to my mother and said something like "I know that guy from somewhere ... where have I seen him before? Oh yes. He's from Hanson, isn't he?". A reference to my long mousy-blonde hair. Now, I don't know if you've heard of Hanson, but if you haven't, then I count you as one of the luckiest people on earth. The whole night was truly splendid, and I hope Gary can come out to Australia again as it was an absolute treat.

Then I did probably the stupidest thing ever.

We were all about to leave the restaurant, when Gary spots the glimmering baby grand near the bar. He heads over to it, and begins to play A Rum Tale, with no words. I thought, Okay, he's going to play a few songs then. But then, tragedy. Unfortunately the free re-fills of drinks had taken their toll on my bladder, and as I stood in the urinal, I could hear Gary's soaring voice float effortlessly over A Whiter Shade of Pale. I could've punched myself in the head!

At least I was still in hearing range, and even from the toilet two doors away, the song was as beautiful as it was the first time I heard it. Perhaps even more so.

The concert was great, the dinner was great and Gary was excellent. It seemed like the voice that I'd listened to on my tape of Shine on Brightly in the mornings before school was now in front of me.

We all gathered around Gazza to get some photos taken (left: Gary, Bob Lloyd, James, his son) at which point I craftily snuck my way into the seat next to his (ooh, such a cunning move). Then I quietened everybody, and turned to Gary and said,

"Now, there's just one thing I would like to ask you. What is the thing you enjoyed most about being the lead singer of Jethro Tull?", at which point the room semi-erupted with laughter. I'm not sure if most of them knew I was joking or not, but that's one of the downsides about Australians (and there are MANY, believe me). But then, Gary, in his most excruciatingly deadpan manner, proceeded to tell me why he stood on one leg whilst he played the flute. Apparently, he was bitten by a sea-crock, whilst aboard a ship sailing to (memory failing at this point). But he told this farcical tale so frighteningly seriously that I was trying hard not to burst into a fit of giggles.

Truly a nonpareil.

Then, we spoke seriously, and I asked him what it was like to tour with Jethro Tull. He surprisingly didn't rate Ian Anderson very highly as a vocalist (each to their own, I say), yet he regarded Anderson as a brilliant flautist and Martin Barre as one of the great guitarists of his time. He also criticised some of the more complex Tull outings, saying quite candidly, "Who gives a rat's if you can play in 5/4 time with a three quaver octave transpose?". I find this hardly surprising as some of the later Procol recordings are well disguised as being more complex than (musically, that is) they are, eg. Bringing Home the Bacon's intro confuses the hell out of me for some reason.

Top L-R John, Russell, Marcel, Bob Bottom L-R Myself, some guy who got in the photo by accident, Daniel

Then, we spoke seriously, and I asked him what it was like to tour with Jethro Tull. He surprisingly didn't rate Ian Anderson very highly as a vocalist (each to their own, I say), yet he regarded Anderson as a brilliant flautist and Martin Barre as one of the great guitarists of his time. He also criticised some of the more complex Tull outings, saying quite candidly, "Who gives a rat's if you can play in 5/4 time with a three quaver octave transpose?". I find this hardly surprising as some of the later Procol recordings are well disguised as being more complex than (musically, that is) they are, eg. Bringing Home the Bacon's intro confuses the hell out of me for some reason.

You see, I am quite a serious practising muso, and in retrospect, I may have come across as being boring. :) I've just read this item on Repent Walpurgis and found it very interesting indeed. I was working with a friend of mine named Petr Falcnik and we were going to try and start a Dream Theater style band, in which we were going to record Repent ourselves, with myself playing keyboard and then drums, and he would play guitar and then bass (double tracking, I guess you could say). This method would comprise of me playing drums, and Petr playing bass, then we'd rewind the tape and play guitar and organ over the drum and bass tape. It may not have sounded too crash hot, but hey! It's a Procol Harum song! How can it not have at least some impact?

It never really happened, but we did rehearse it a bit. He seemed keen to play Trower's solo parts verbatim, whilst I found that during the organ part on two manuals, I'd have to improvise on the natural C Minor scale, as I only had a Yamaha PSX 28 (shame shame shame). Even so, this didn't sound too bad. Unfortunately we didn't end up recording it, or any of the other songs we wanted to do (probably because the Bach Prelude still eludes me). But it would've been interesting to compare with BtP's notes on the frequent variations on the song.

Much love, and keep up the great site!

Love, Peace, Light and Mercy
Jimmy (of Oztraylier, mate!!)