GIG REVIEW: Level 42 + Johnny Hates Jazz, Royal Albert Hall, 28/10/21

It’s easy to forget what an incredible building the Royal Albert Hall is until you’re standing there looking at it. Looking at the exterior there’s an air of triumph and exultation, whilst the interior is the epitome of Victorian refinement and sophistication.

Appropriately, last night’s gig brought a little bit more of all those things to the hall (although there was nothing Victorian about either of the acts we saw).

Johnny Hates Jazz delivered a successful support set in that it made you want to go away and listen to some more of their music. I confess to only knowing ‘Turn Back the Clock’ and ‘Shattered Dreams’ before last night, but a few hours later and I am now more than familiar with a number of their singles.

Lead singer Clark Datchler has a brilliant voice that has matured well (I’d go as far as to say he sounds better than he did in 1987), and he exuded just the right amount of exuberance to keep the audience entertained and to fit with the band’s polished and funky sound.

I also had the opportunity to vicariously live out my ‘80s keytar fantasies through the medium of the band’s keyboardist, whose slick parts contributed an enormous amount to the band’s live sound.

After the support act the audience were well and truly revved up for some real ‘80s pop-funk, and if any band were going to deliver that it was going to be Level 42. They certainly came out with a bang, strutting onto the stage and bursting triumphantly into ‘To Be With You Again’.

The main band consisted of four musicians - band co-founders Mark King and Mike Lindup, as well as a lead guitarist and drummer.

Like Clark Datchler, King’s voice has matured and still suits the songs, perhaps even more than it did back in the ‘80s. When writing the notes for this review during the gig, I also must have written the word ‘bass’ in capital letters at least fifteen times, probably because King’s bass playing was prodigious in virtually every song. Like the venue he was playing in, it’s easy to forget how incredible King’s musical ability is until you actually see him playing the bass in person. Lindup also offered up some of the best live keyboard playing I’ve seen for a while (maybe equal with that of Genesis’s Tony Banks), and he alternated between grinning at his band mates and grinning at the audience the whole night (in that sense he is completely unlike Tony Banks).

I also can’t go any further without mentioning the phenomenal brass section that played with the band. The three musicians - one on saxophone, one on trumpet, one on trombone - were almost like an act of their own, having apparently choreographed their own dance moves and routines for every song. They made a hell of a lot of noise for just three people and were obviously having the time of their lives; I couldn’t help but grin every time I looked at them.

The energy of the gig did dip slightly about two thirds of the way in, possibly because this was when the brass section left the stage and when the band started bringing out some of their more intense album tracks (which might have proved to be a little progressive for everyone but the most dedicated fans).

The party atmosphere returned during the encore though; the audience were on their feet again for the inevitable ‘Lessons In Love’, and ‘The Chinese Way’ prompted some very serious-looking blokes in the audience to bring out their best falsettos for the chorus.

‘Hot Water’ was the final song of the night, however, and I have honestly never seen anything quite like it. The brass section were sprinting around the stage, Lindup was running back and forth to the drum kit and King was belting out the words like nobody’s business.

‘The best venue in the world!’ King had shouted earlier in the evening. For that hour and a half, with disco balls lighting up the auditorium, with the audience going wild for every hit single that was played, with the band giving it everything they’d got, he might well have been right.