Nick Harper has a new CD out, Harperspace - not Harperspice as one wag suggested it should
have been called to maximise sales. After much heavy rotation, I can confirm that it's well
up to expectations with some of his best writing so far.
With Harper, though, as this latest visit confirmed, and even allowing for a touch of
'tour throat' and a sound system whose limitations didn't always allow him to go for
it as he would have liked, CDs are just a means of keeping his adherents going between gigs.
Eagerly consumed as they are, these little silver discs neither contain nor adequately convey
the power and energy Harper manages to create in person, alone with just his voice and
acoustic guitar.
With added instruments on disc, the rockier songs kick along and the more reflective material
glows. But on stage, all the songs seem to grow an added dimension. He doesn't need a band.
He is a band.
Aeroplane and Kettledrum Heart, both from the new album, were ideal examples: the former
having all the welly of a one-man Led Zeppelin; the latter, an entry for the world's most
eloquent hangover portrayal, all the more telling and shapely for its solitary directness.
That one man should be blessed with such manifold gifts - brilliantly lucid songwriting,
a singing style that is at once expressive and breath-defying in its construction and
stamina, and supernatural guitar playing ability (he opened with a walk-on intro that
sounded like Frank Zappa playing bluegrass) - is just so unfair.
Talent and work-rate this size should be filling major concert halls at the minimum.
If Harper comes calling at any size of venue within a hundred miles of your front door,
be there. Or be deprived of a life-enhancing experience.
(Copyright of ROB ADAMS)
