Chris De Burgh at the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall, May 2015. Photograph by Ian D. Hall.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10

It has been four long years since Chris de Burgh last stood on the stage of the Philharmonic Hall and delivered music to his adoring fans. A man to whom being presented with two roses midway through the first section of the evening, is not an embarrassment to be savoured at the end of a show but to be moved to gratitude and thanks immediately and being humble earnest in his appreciation.

It is that appreciation which marks Chris de Burgh out in the same type of mould as any visiting musical icon who wears the passion for Liverpool on their sleeve. It is the mark of a man truly welcome in the city and the mutual love it seems works both ways.

With a set list bigger than a European squad team sheet to get through, Mr. De Burgh and his band performed two sets with diligent respect, with grace and beguiling pride.

Tracks such as The Hands of Man, The Light on the Bay/Have A Care, The Candlestick, Spanish Train, A Spaceman Came Travelling and the excellent Transmission Ends filled the auditorium during the first half of the evening, whilst a small acoustic set filled with numbers such as Missing You, Pure Joy, There Goes My Heart Again and Lonely Sky kicked off the second half with the tenderness of a new born baby being held for the first time.

The final part of the second half of the show held songs such as the excellent Borderline, Where Would I Be, the love ballad Lady in Red, Don’t Pay the Ferryman and the magnificence of Toto’s Africa thundering through each audience member as if bolts of lightning were being pumped through the hearts.

It was though the finale in which emotions were to run high, in which the true measure of the man stood aloft as he sang with such driving spirit the song from the musical Carousel and thanks to Gerry Marsden, the anthem that has adorned the start of so many thousands of games at Anfield, You’ll Never Walk Alone. With images of the various Hillsborough memorials and the beautifully iconic picture of the young boy and girl hand in hand, one decked out in the blue of Everton, the other in the red of Liverpool, lumps came to the throat and tears were visible in all who sang with Chris de Burgh.

For Chris de Burgh, a man who wears his heart upon his sleeve at all times, the emotion of the song was too much. Even in the beautiful, in the quietness of reflection of truth and the pursuit of honesty, there is the feeling of being overwhelmed, both by the lyric of a haunting standard and of being privileged to perform it infront of a section of British society who truly get what the message is. For a few moments, Chris de Burgh looked as though the weight of grief for the victims of Hillsborough was too much, but like the trooper he is, like the man of passion for Liverpool he holds with legitimate claim, both of the city and of the football club, the tears, though still running down his face, spoke volumes and if it was possible, endeared him to the crowd in the Philharmonic Hall even more.

A gig in which to listen was to understand, to appreciate the intricate nature of the story and comprehend the compelling nature of the song. Chris de Burgh is a master of the well versed tale and it was a true honour for the Philharmonic crowd to see a master perform.

Ian D. Hall