Robyn Hitchcock might be famous for his songs (well, not too famous), but the man could tour on his wry banter alone. His way with words is unlike any we have stateside – and the songs don’t hurt either.
When I first moved here, a man at a writing workshop told me to watch musicians for the pauses that Colorado Springs’ thin air would force them to take.
Hitchcock’s banter seemed longer than most, and in Manitou Springs, he probably stretched it out a little further. At least he didn’t hide the altitude’s effects. The British songwriter lives in my previous town of Nashville, and admitted the air is easier on singers down there.
Often opening shows with a piano cover of Pink Floyd’s Astronomy Domine, Hitchcock went acoustic guitar from the start. I started to realize his lyrics might be a little too witty to find popular acclaim. He’s smart but not always forthright. Still, there’s a lot to like for the patient fan.
He introduced Sunday Never Comes by mentioning that Ethan Hawke played it in the movie Juliet, Naked, and that in 200 years no one will know the difference between his bones and those of Hawke. Seriously, name another artist who banters like that.
His banter also involved conversations with the sound man, as he tried to dial in 12-string effects and different levels of reverb on his vocals. Every interaction was humorous, even if most were one-sided.
Hitchcock never developed more than a cult following, despite major label records and a concert film helmed by director Jonathan Demme.
But it’s a strong cult, evidenced by the 100-plus people who filled the concert room of Lulu’s Downstairs. With the tables and chairs on the main floor, and booths in the back of the room, it felt like an old-school lounge or dinner club. As Hitchcock put it, “Imagine yourselves smoking ghost cigarettes.”
I loitered in the bar for a drink and some dinner, so I had to settle for a nice leaning spot through the show. Given the rapidly spreading virus concerns, I managed to maintain about five feet between me and anyone else.
I Want to Tell You About What I Want and Virginia Woolf both came from his most recent long player, 2017’s self-titled album.
He called one tune a John Lennon song, pounded the keyboard for a raw but melodious tune.
After the piano songs, Hitchcock returned to the guitar to duet with his honey-voice wife and songwriter Emma Swift.
Hitchcock and Swift closed with a cover of Bob Dylan’s Just Like a Woman, every bit as gentle and delicate as the original. It was a tender moment, miles away from the harsher lyrics of the set’s earlier songs and a perfect cover to send us off to a mad country clearing the shelves of toilet paper and cleaning wipes.
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