Fish – The Philharmonic Hall, Liverpool: Live Review

Mike Ainscoe

1 year ago

Fish – The Philharmonic Hall, Liverpool – Wednesday 5th March 2025

THE END OF THE ROAD IS NIGH

As he nears the end of the road to the isles, Fish (let’s get it out of the way although we could simply refuse to mention it, yes – the EX-Marillion singer) leaves his mark in Liverpool. The circle squared off, there’s a long personal history with Fish having first seen him singing, like many others in attendance on the Road To The Isles, over forty years ago.

As those fans, many clad in the new tour shirt or one of a particular vintage, make their way to their seats from a prompt 7.30 start, they’re greeted by a backdrop screens that’s projecting goldfish (no clowns…) circling around the graphics. A touch of calming therapy for what will be an emotional adieu to the grey bearded warrior.

Heading towards closure on tour that’s been almost ecstatically received, Fish is keen to stress that “it’s not Elton John or Status Quo.” This is it, and after juggling the set during the European leg with a dazzling selection from the legacy, the UK sees a more settled set with a clear message of what he wants to say.

OLD FRIENDS

He tells us how he wants to do his final round of touring surrounded by his old friends. He’s referring to the band, who’ve been with him on much if not all his long solo travels. Mickey Simmonds, Robin Boult, Steve Vantsis, Gavin Griffiths and, looking quite socially distanced, Liz Antwi are all seasoned in the ways of the Fish. And then there are the songs. Taking a trip back to the early solo days, the first two solo albums Vigil In A Wilderness Of Mirrors and Internal Exile provide much of the set. With so much from which to choose, and with so many fan favourites not making the shortlist, it’s a thankless task. However, that’s being churlish.

CENTREPIECE GENIUS

While The Company is always – ALWAYS – going to have to end the set, Vigil has – HAS – to be the opener. The brooding intro and uplifting chorus perfect fare. With the bounce of Credo and brassy Big Wedge, the tone is set. Relating tales of their stay at the city’s Titanic Hotel, heading backstage and fetching some warm layers to wrap up a chilly Mickey Simmonds and regular bows to those in the ‘Royal Boxes’ punctuate the tunes. Fish talks of the catharsis of writing and singing more than once; Robin Boult following up in grinding out a dirty riff for Long Cold Day and then the lockdown rediscovery of the centrepiece genius of Plague Of Ghosts.

The latter a progressive tone poem incorporating rock, funk, dub, psych, techno and balladry in equal measure. It’s surely his magnum opus. A twenty five minute epic set closer, that on a Steven Wilson today would be shrouded in pant wetting praise. As the finale, the band employ the old trick of leaving the stage one by one, until it’s just Fish and the packed house singing the “we can make it happen” refrain.

BACK IN THE GAME

And while Shadowplay, Family Business, Cliche and the duet with Liz on Just Good friends (plus blinding Boult solos on the latter two) all cement the early solo work, his farewell album and prophetic lyrics of the title song Weltschmerz are a reminder of how Fish is calling time, going out not just ‘back in the game’, but at the top of his game. As Boult drips guitar notes and power chords, Fish is sounding better than many would have hoped; thoughts of the vocal issues of the past and whether or not the tour schedule was too demanding can be parked.

Our man is in good spirits too. The banter is as much a part of the occasion as the music. Grumpy Rick Wakeman has made an Indian Summer of a career from it. Grendel shouters are fair warned and given short shrift and the absence of any melancholy aspect in his demeanour – until the very end – is marked. “I’m loving all these old people shuffling away to the toilets between number!” he deadpans, reflecting on how we’ve all grown old together. “Shall we wait for you?”

MELTING CHALK HEARTS OF LOTHIAN

Encores are a time when realisation hits that closure is upon us. No pressure but the Misplaced Childhood sequence that follows an exquisite Gentleman’s Excuse Me, simply has to be done. The chalk hearts on the playground wall may have long gone but we do remember. As we do with the always dark, always apt Fugazi before the celebration, albeit with a lump in the throat and a tear in the eye, of The Company.

Fish leaves the stage with four more gigs to go. A myriad of feelings float around the Phil. Reluctance? Relief? Sadness? Pride? Saying farewell is always…challenging. Raising a glass to the company, someone must have quoted Douglas Adams and claimed ‘so long and thanks for all the fish’.