Bob Geldof at the o2 Academy, Liverpool, October 2014. Photgraph by Ian D. Hall.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *

On a night like this…where the decades are rolled back, when the silent regret of Time sheds a tear for the lack of decency and improvement in the lives of those that inhabit the fragile Earth. In which the bullet and the bomb, the political scorn kicking downwards and the rise of a party in which right minded people should be doing all they can to make sure they never get a grasp on even a seat in the next election, let alone have a say in running the country. The Boomtown Rats returned to Liverpool and for those in the crowd at the o2 Academy old enough to remember, gave the type of performance for which audiences at Eric’s would have raved about for weeks on end.

Just six short years ago, this night might have seemed a distant dream, the fantastical aspiration of the faithful remembering great tunes inside the Bilston Robin as Simon Crowe and Garry Roberts, alongside relative newcomer Darren Beale took the hits of The Boomtown Rats back into the clutching, grasping deprived hands of those in attendance. Six short years later and the Boomtown Rats are just as relevant as they were when producing classic albums such as The Fine Art of Surfacing, Mondo Bongo and their self-titled debut album.

This was Bob Geldof at his very best, the angry man, the leader of the rebellion, the man who made things happen and who still captures the imagination with his ability to make an audience think, cheer and sing at the same time and by opening the night with (I Never Loved) Eva Braun, the ringmaster had all in the palm of his hands and shared the dystopian secrets of the evening with all who would listen.

Before launching into the sublime and incendiary and gorgeously inflaming Someone’s Looking At You, Bob Geldof took the audience on a verbal tour of all that was still wrong.  Nothing has changed in three decades, sure technology has moved on, perhaps there are nicer cars in the driveway or in the garage and holidays more appealing but it all comes with a price, democracy has gone the way of the Dodo, at least the carcass of the poor flightless, rotund and foul looking creature is in some sort of preserved state, shame the same cannot be said for those that rule from the Westminster Empire.

Garry Roberts at the 02. Photograph by Ian D. Hall.

This was not just a gig; this was beautifully performed theatre, the statesman delivering not just songs in which Liverpool audiences had waited so long to hear played once more but the sermon from the stage, the smile half cocked, playfully but with the hint of anger flashing, reflecting, in the glare of a thousand cameras. Both good-humoured, mischievous villain and hero, the touch of the common man wrapped up in soul who has done more in one life than many could muster in ten and surrounded by the keenest of musicians who drove the message on and the with composure of lions facing down the trapped armless hunter.

In the expertise of Simon Crowe, the legendary Garry Roberts, the tantalising Pete Briquette and the assured coolness and easy style of Darren Beale, songs such as Like Clockwork, (She’s Gonna) Do You In, the effortlessness of Banana Republic, the danger lurking like a nest of rats suddenly exposed to scrutiny in I Don’t Like Mondays, Looking After No.1 and Diamond Smiles were performed with so much pleasure, both on stage and marked in the audience’s faces that it could have bottled and marketed as a new way to ease tension in the aching of everyday life.

On a night like this…there really is nothing better than an evening with The Boomtown Rats, a band who were, who remain, a voice of the disaffected, of those who understand only too well that what was promised has never materialised and that sometimes the voice has to shout louder than the hypocrisy that screams from so called elite and followers of an unrighteous path.

One of the nights of the year, delivered in the best way possible, with fun, anger and great, great music.

Ian D. Hall