September 12, 2000

Japan Osaka Zepp

[b]Weller[/b]'s savvy exit limits the unveiling of some of that back catalogue dead wood...

Paul Weller and band have bowed theatrically at front of stage and departed to the sound of unruly adulation. House lights come up, piped 'go home' music reaches the ears and a disembodied voice reminds all to check belongings.

Something's wrong, though. Hardly a soul is leaving. Moreover, their head-high clapping and chants are amplifying. They're sure they can bring him back. For minutes they stand stoically, noisily begging for another song. Nobody has ever come back after this long. Will he be the first? A fans' man? The instruments have to be removed from the hall before the realisation hits that the die-hards have been left wanting more. What inspires this dogged loyalty? Why did a couple of thousand people ignore the time-honoured hints for so long?

Perhaps it's because after 20 odd years, Weller knows how to pace a show. The numbers where he traditionally sits behind a piano and shakes his head a lot are dispatched early. Having then established with the crowd that it was indeed Saturday night here as well as in England, Weller proclaims with a shout, "Let's have it then!" before launching into an aggressive cut of 'Thechangingman'.

Maybe it's the authentic singer-songwriter feel exuded by 'Wild Wood' and other well crafted, timber oriented tunes. Lamentably, there are also ones like 'Broken Stones' that could slide neatly onto an Ally McBeal soundtrack.

Weller's savvy exit limits the unveiling of some of that back catalogue dead wood but we're left to ask the question, 'Does the sound of a crowd clapping the recipient of a lifetime achievement award sound any different to a crowd clapping a strong set?" Probably not.