Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
They are rightly lauded as two of the finest of their generation. Roger Daltrey and Wilko Johnson are not just iconic, they are recognised as culturally eminent and at times, depending on what newspaper/magazine or ill-informed comments you decide to listen to, as equally famous and infamous as two ambassadors of British music can be.
It seems only right but a Hell of a long time coming that the pair would do something rather remarkable for posterity, the combination of the man who stuttered the immortal line, “Why don’t you all fade away”, and the man who defined cool when it was a word that meant something genuine and sincere, a man who inspired so many but for whom really none can ever even get close. Posterity is a fickle mistress, especially when Going Back Home.
Many a duo has fallen upon the floor screaming that what should have worked so well; instead is like a trip on the M25 at six in the evening with only a gallon of petrol between breaking down and being the cause of a leader on the late news. For Wilko Johnson and Roger Daltrey though it’s like hearing Sammy Davis Junior and Frank Sinatra on stage at their pomp, imagining Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong fighting over the first steps that Humanity will ever take on another heavenly soil, the belly of the beast is not to be entered lightly and it takes a special pairing to get through the process.
If posterity is an erratic, and at times hard arse, mistress, then to take this particular pairing into the studio and expect nothing less than perfect is going to tickle this fussy mistress’s fancy. However, Going Back Home is that, well as near to perfect as anything in the world can be without it being spoiled by posterity’s picky and changeable individuality.
For many, Mr. Daltrey can only truly get the best out of his voice when working alongside Pete Townshend and the now sadly departed souls of Keith Moon and John Entwhistle. However, perhaps into that mix should the rampaging spirit of Wilko Johnson be thrown!
Listening to Going Back Home is to imagine an alternate reality, a personality that has been enhanced as Time is re-written and warped, twisted and moulded in another direction and yet at the same time, sounds so familiar that you have to look back over your shoulder just to make sure the heavy breath of Time is not causing the type of deception that a fraudulent merchant banker might aspire to.
Aided by Norman Watt-Roy, the astonishing Dylan Howe, Mick Talbot and Steve Weston, the double C.D. hits the listener smack between the eyes and then starts repeating the beautiful blow with the bonus second C.D. full of the live experience.
The main album is one of tangible brute force. It’s like sitting between two giant tornados and waiting for the inevitable oblivion, an oblivion that never arrives but instead skirts round the senses and allows the listener to fight back with honour. Tracks such as Ice on the Motorway, the stunning Turned 21, Some Kind of Hero, the heart pumping Sneaking Suspicion and the title track of the album, Going Back Home, are like listening to the musical equivalent of an indestructible nuclear bunker, something’s are truly built to last and be feted for what they achieve.
If posterity is a fickle, perhaps even mean individual, then the only thing to do is at least take a huge swipe, the greatest of leaps, and make it pay for its insolence. Going Back Home has the wonderful audacity to fight fire with fire, the gut filled guitar and the voice that could shatter illusions as well as glass, its a potent mix which makes posterity bow its head with honour.
Ian D. Hall