CityLife

Chris Rea

Chris Rea
Apollo
March 28, 2010

You can bet your bottom dollar that when Chris Rea has trouble nodding off at night, he doesn’t count sheep. My money is on him counting guitars, on the evidence of his show at the Apollo on Sunday night.

As well as his own vast array of guitars on stage – which he swaps around repeatedly like a kid in a toy box – he’s backed by three other guitarists.

And just in case you haven’t quite got what kind of music this is, massive cut-out guitars hang by wires, while guitars are occasionally projected on to the backdrop. It’s like Guitar Heaven, then, for the fans of this seasoned British blues man, and they must have been aching to indulge in a bit of air-guitar work.

But being of a certain age and part of the Tupperware generation, they seemed to make do with toe-tapping and hand-clapping. The guitar histrionics are left to Middlesbrough-born Rea, a man who has rediscovered the blues in recent years, possibly as a result of his nearly fatal brush with cancer – and his axe-wielding takes no prisoners from start to finish.

He may not have the footwork co-ordination he once had – those dance steps are borderline embarrassing – but the fretwork remains as clever as ever.

Combined with that trademark Capstan full-strength-mixed-with-gravel voice, which makes Rod Stewart sound like Charlotte Church, it’s the Chris Rea brand as described on the tin.

All very good, but it’s what Rea leaves out that it is a bit puzzling. While he offers up favourites such as Josephine and Road To Hell, there’s no Fool (If You Think It’s Over) or Driving Home For Christmas. And there’s no banter with the fans – not even a ‘hello Manchester’ – at all, the only interaction being the occasional thumbs up to the circle and an appreciative smile at a blonde lady dancing near the stage.

No one seems to mind, though. From the moment he kicks off the set, dressed in just a simple black T-shirt and almost matching pants, with Can’t Wait For Love right through to encore numbers On The Beach and Let’s Dance, the audience is hooked.

The highlight comes halfway through when the hall erupts for Stainsby Girls and Rea aims his guitar, rifle-fashion, at the audience, at which point he almost skips around the stage.

A bit of fun to leaven the soul-bearing blues and intense guitar playing, and it would have seemed spot-on, if only Rea had connected just a tad more with the fans.

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