MiG 2024
Caledonian troubadour brings his spellbinding tales to the banks of the Weser where captive listeners drink the water of Fife wisdom.
Jackie Leven’s passing in 2011 at the age of 61 robbed the world not simply of one of the greatest singer-songwriters but also of one of the most immaculate storytellers – and provocateurs, too, as his “The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ” suggested in style – whose run of albums that began in 1994, after the Scottish artist had served with DOLL BY DOLL and CONCRETE BULLETPROOF INVISIBLE and won a battle with smack, remains unprecedented. More than twenty platters in less than a score years – some under his principal pseudonym, others as Sir Vincent Lone, plus a few collaborative efforts – meant a plethora of pieces to pick from and play live, so Leven never repeated himself on-stage, and there’s no better illustration of how different his concerts could be than these four discs. It’s not just the repertoire shifts or changes in arrangements – the earlier of the two shows on display captures Jackie in a solo mode, and the later finds him accompanied by Michael Cosgrave’s ivories; it’s the attitude his audiences can still enjoy, if only on record.
Best sampled on a couple of cuts featured in both sets, laid down in “Club Moments” in May 1999 and in “Sendesaal” in March 2004, on the hurt-shouldering “Call Mother A Lonely Field” and “Single Father” that tackle family issues in a magnificent fashion, this stance was what made Leven’s art so alluring for all the listeners, even those in Bremen for whom nuances of English could seem a bit alien. His melodies, too, of course – it’s nigh on impossible not to hum along to the folk-informed refrain of “Gylen Gylen” or not to get enchanted with the acoustic guitar flourishes leading into the introspective “Stranger On The Square” – yet, without his hard-hitting and highly poetic lyrics and anecdotes which peppered Jackie’s every performance, preceding almost every song (something lost in translation to digital platforms but available in physical format), a lot of the musician’s charms would feel diminished. Leven’s deep vocals boom and stretch resonant notes in “Looking For Love” and croon in “Exit Wound” as though to measure the room’s dynamics – and weave dramatic motifs and a quote from “Yesterday” into “Jim O’Windygates” too – while his light whistle and robust strum lift the gloom off “Marble City Bar” to emphasize the groove. Still, Jackie’s solemn tones, bolstered by church organ backing, turn “My Philosophy” into a hymn, and the piano-rippled “Alvis Green” into an emotionally charged tragedy, before his supple pipes propel the effervescent epic “A Little Voice In Space” beyond the traditional pale where the faux jolly “Classic Northern Diversions” resides, spiced up with the mention of Gerhard Schröder.
And as the title track goes for anthemic balladry, the late Scot’s greatness and relevance become unbearably tangible and his absence sore. Fortunately, sonic documents like this keep his spirit alive.
*****