Concert review: The Manfreds (Cadogan Hall 3rd November 2023)
I may be treading upon unsure ground here but one of the features of music generally – in its various forms ranging across the spectrum from the primitive to High Art and back again – is its appeal to most sentient members of the human race as they make their journey through life.
One could argue that to a degree person’s likes – and indeed dislikes – in this respect go towards defining their personality, in a similar manner to that of their choices of hobbies, sports, pastimes and even careers to follow.
We all have different capacities to respond to music and/or song.
Just as there are die-hard adherents of what is defined as classical music (to the exclusion of all else), the world is also crammed full of similarly-devoted fans of heavy metal, grudge, punk, rap, electro-pop, big band music, crooners of the 1940s and 1950s and indeed, these days, whatever-else-have-you.
Maybe variety is the spice of life.
There is also an inescapable “of their own time” factor inherent in each successive generation’s tastes.
Personally-speaking – being both tone deaf and born in 1951 – I hereby must confess that “my musical time” was roughly the quarter of a century between 1960 to 1985.
I had little interest in anything but the most accessible/“popular” classical music; the output of some big bands; crooners such as Big Crosby; the likes of Frank Sinatra, Perry Como and Dean Martin; Elvis Presley, Bill Haley, Lonnie Donnegan, some Cliff Richard & The Shadows; the entirely of the 1960s 
British pop “explosion” lock, stock & barrel (beginning and ending with The Beatles but – in between the cracks – especially the British Blues Boom groups such as Fleetwood Mac (the Peter Green version), Chicken Shack and John Mayall … and, of course, the American blues artiste originals from which they drew their primary inspiration.
When asked, I now cite 1985 as the date of the end of my interest in current “youth” music because – looking back – it seemed it was about that year that I finally stopped listening to it by choice.
All that I have “caught” since then has been limited to that to which I have been exposed by accident, e.g. on the radio, at the gym, or perhaps on the CD disc players of my kids, nephews and nieces and their friends.
Furthermore, for the record, I’m perfectly content that this has been the case. Place my name in the folder marked “Out Of Touch” if you will, but there is only so much music that anyone can listen to by personal preference and all of mine hails from before 1985.
Which brings me – “at last!” some may exclaim – to my subject de jour.
Last Friday evening my beloved and I drove through the remnants of Storm Ciaran’s 75 mph winds and torrential rain – hampered at various times by an imperfect sat-nav system – to stay with some friends in South London and join them at what was rumoured to be one of the last-ever gigs to be played by a “now playing only for the love of the music” band known as The Manfreds.
Because of their ages, apart from anything else, most long-time Rusters will already be aware of the eponymous British band Manfred Mann, whose leader/keyboardist was born in South Africa, which essentially flourished between 1962 and 1969 [trivia fact: exactly the same years as the Beatles].
Manfred Mann himself went on to have further success with Manfred Mann’s Earth Band (most famous single a cover of Bruce Springsteen’s Blinded By The Light that charted on both sides of the Atlantic).
The original lead singer of Manfred Mann, of course, was Paul Jones who left in 1966 to pursue a solo career, to be replaced by Mike d’Abo for the remainder of the band’s life.
The Manfreds – essentially the original members of Manfred Mann bar the man himself (which is why they couldn’t call themselves Manfred Mann!) – came into being after they decided to get together in 1991 to celebrate Tom McGuinness’s 50th birthday and ended up playing/touring together to promote a Manfred Man Greatest Hits compilation. This was sufficiently successful that they have been touring irregularly ever since.
Since 1995 I have now seen them on four occasions – augmented at times by guest artistes such as Alan Price, Georgie Fame, PP Arnold and Chris Farlowe (of Out of Time chart-topping fame) and never attended a less-than-terrific concert.
Friday night’s affair – at a sold-out Cadogan Hall off Sloane Square in London – was no exception.
It was rumoured to be one of their last-ever gigs, largely because – now with more all three surviving (as in “still in the band”, not just “still breathing!”) members over the age of eighty, there has to be a time to stop sometime!
I am not going to bother to review the concert in detail, in which the “original three” were supported by other musicians on drums, keyboards and sax/flute.
Suffice it to say that in two halves – separated by a 20 minute break – the Manfreds ran through all their greatest hits of the 1960s, plus one or two other songs from previous or later eras in which they had been involved with commendable musical expertise, style and verve.
The two vocalists – Jones and d’ Abo – took turns to introduce each tune and Tom McGuinness also led the band in versions of his two McGuinness Flint 1970/1971 charting songs Malt & Barley Blues and When I’m Dead And Gone.
The audience soon warmed up and by the end of proceedings – although there was no seat-wrecking and chucking, or other rioting behaviour, as might perhaps have accompanied their pop group live performances in the 1960s – the band were receiving standing ovations, not least after Jones gave an amazing vocal and harmonica performance during rendition of the band’s original blues favourites – Chester Burnett’s (i.e. Howlin’ Wolf’s) Smokestack Lightnin’ …
One last thing.
“Back in the day” – 1961/1962 – when what later became the British pop revolution was beginning to come to life, the first vocalist approached to become lead singer of the group that later became the Rolling Stones turned down the opportunity to join them – thereby leaving one Michael Philip Jagger, son of a PE teacher, to assume that role.
That “offer rejector” was Paul Jones.
On Friday night – at the age of eighty-one – once again he was the stand-out performer of the evening and also undertook most of the cheery chat with the audience.
He was a major Brit pop star in the 1960s and – although from 1966 onwards his career meandered off into other things – even in 2023 his voice remains vital, his harp (harmonica) playing is superb and he radiates mega-watt power charisma.
Eighty-one?
He could still blow the socks off singers 60 years his junior!
