Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

All good memories fade eventually, perhaps not disappearing forever, never completely out of grasp, but they do fade, they might lose their lustre, the moment when you declared a love forever lost to age, responsibility and the unknowing regret of not designed neglect, that is life, a passion for the always in your sight, replaced by the allure of other more tangible and currently immediate passions.

It comes to us all, and yet, with good timing and resilience on behalf of the once former loved, a memory is rekindled, a valve of the heart returning to the point where it was linked to the art before it, a faded memory restored as if by the touch of modern techniques; and like a photograph which was distorted, yellowing with age and only comprehended with illustrations and descriptions, suddenly blooms, becomes focused once more.

So it perhaps was for the majority of the audience who turned up in their usual droves to the Philharmonic Hall as their heroes, Level 42 returned; it was a return though of a different band which caught the eye of the beholder in the first part of the evening, for The Blow Monkeys, this was a sizeable measure of what was arguably missed by the Liverpool crowd, a classic band of the 80s, a group led by an enigmatic singer, but one to whom the depth of his voice was always in demand.

A love that had faded because of life moves on, is never a love that is regretted, ever forgotten completely, and in the rush of repairing memories, of synapses fizzing with a longing and fondness, so to for the crowd, already bursting with energy for the night ahead, felt the surge through their minds and their feet, hands and minds responded with equal restored, and unexpected revelation.

It really shouldn’t be that way, the surprise is that it is a surprise at all, the music was always fascinating, the lyrics of the time weaved a certain beautiful magic in the air and the bond between band and crowd was as strong as anything around in the hotbed of the 80s scene. The surprise for some will always be the realisation that whilst the band may have originally disbanded, like all good partnerships, the pull was too much to keep them apart for ever, and whilst the 80s is now a time left in the past, the band have been creatively since reforming, and it is that presence of new and memory that the Liverpool crowd were treated to a set list of real enjoyment.

In songs such as The Coming of Grace, Crying For The Moon, Wildflower, Digging Your Scene, The Wild River and It doesn’t Have To Be That Way, The Blow Monkeys reminded those that needed the gentle nudge of the passion that flows through the music they create, they prompted with gentlemanly conduct that just because a band no longer features in the media that they, like other creators, have not gone away; after all you can never dismiss the beautiful and the strong, memories never truly fade, but they do require constant nurturing to fill your heart.

Ian D. Hall