Original image by There Stands the Glass.
I wasn’t feeling it, and I don’t think Richard Thompson was either. A concert by the notoriously bleak British troubadour at the Folly Theater on Sunday, November 21, was even drearier than anticipated. Renowned for his doom and gloom sensibility, Thompson’s attempts to connect with the audience of about 600 repeatedly failed.
Alternately icy and awkward, the 100-minute outing was adequate rather than transcendent. The set list wasn’t the problem. Most of Thompson’s new compositions were solid and hearing his classics from the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s remains thrilling. I suppose I’ll never understand the astonishing popularity of the 1991 story song “1952 Vincent Black Lightning.”
Reading excerpts from his new autobiography was a good idea, but the execution was weirdly clumsy. Yet the off night for the musical giant was nonetheless rewarding. My seat in the third row allowed for careful scrutiny of Thompson’s seemingly magical guitar work. He doesn’t require accompanists. His guitar often simulated the sound of a full band.
Even so, I longed for a bit of noise. A ten-minute burst of instrumental electric guitar would have enlivened the show. Backing vocalist Zara Phillips was fine, but Thompson deserves- and last night truly needed- the presence of a similarly accomplished peer. A collaboration with a notable figure from the British folk scene such as June Tabor might have made the uncertain night unforgettable.