Our host with colourful beard headed out to Lux Expo to take in the sights, sounds and smells of Robbie Williams second show in the Grand Duchy. Here's what he had to say.
“Let me REintroduce myself…” Uncomfortable boyband member. Vengeful popstar. Trashed tabloid mainstay. Restrained crooner. Electro avenue detour. Occasional rapper. Proud family man. He was indeed still the musical magpie, the narcissistic winking and gurning national treasure who’s outgrown his own name -“I’m Robbie freaking Williams!” And he crafted a night a rapt 5-figure crowd will spontaneously smile about for years to come …
And then there’s Henry, Kristin, even the toilet ladies …
But before the Stoke Elvis swaggered, shimmered and sashayed onto stage and (further) into the hearts of those assembled on Luxembourg’s most joyful carpark (and yes, much of his banter was a straight repeat of the first night) there were two rather contrasting support acts … If Gary Barlow or a Gallagher brother was god they could hardly have come up with a more mood dampening start than the biblical downpour that pre-empted Luxembourg’s own Dream Catcher, who told me later they were debating whether to scrap their usual entrance song … Singing in the Rain!
Robbie has his XXV album out and the Lux DC have their own quarter century of stagecraft behind them, well evidenced as frontman John Rech turned the puddles and damp barnets to shamanistic steam with another performance that drew in the crowd, no small feat for an opening act. There was plentiful jigging, whooping and singing along - look out for the clip of Kim and Lim’s highly respectable efforts on that score!
With their new U2-referencing Live Under a Blood Red Ground album and pirate duck tee-shirts doing brisk business at the merch stand, singer John leapt around like an electrocuted salmon to deliver a performance of folky, funky rock that was all upstream. Great band, great performance - and look out for an interview with their frontman on Saturday’s DB3 Show, as we shared a beer … and disappointment at U240! See for yourself when they play the Summerstage in Dudelange this Friday.
Exclusive interview: Robbie Williams on the past, present and future
Steps accurately captured the frustrating failure of former Supergrass singer Gaz Coombes to grasp the crowd’s attention on Monday (read his review here). Absolutely no lack of decent tunes but blanking out his past megahits is a curious choice. The 3 guitar changes over the opening 4 tracks simply ensured any momentum was lost. The bit of banter about the ubiquitous orange and white Panama hats was a bit forced, and fell flat (his own man in black stagewear included a hat from the off!) - but I’d still recommend checking out his music, ranging from fret-melting blues-metal to folk rock delivered on a battered once-white acoustic.
Back to Robbie and his Marmite psychodrama. If you’re not enamoured with the Rock DJ, his constant needy gesticulations to show him some love would grate. But tonight’s carpark crew lap it up and happily follow his every command. Local Luxifer/solo artist Adam nicely summed up the dynamic, reflecting on singing Robbie karaoke at his nan’s each Xmas, and realising that Williams’ 1st Take That hit was from the year he was born!
I could tell my own story about my ‘Robbie journey’ too (it starts in an Aberdeen pool hall…), but basically there’s a communal sense of experiencing the fragile but open man behind the glorious music, starting in the pre-Twitter (et al) era when equally toxic tabloids set the tone. A life we’ve shared ‘thru’ a lens. I’m uncertain if the slightly teary 6 minute monologue before the rapturous Angels, the crowd his choir for that one, was entirely genuine, as part of a well established show. But equally - I don’t care! I love the man for his willingness to write songs that broaden the scope of what masculinity can, should, be; the warmth tonight wasn’t just down to the simmering summer heat!
In the build-up to the gig responses to queries about how excited folk were about the impending gig were met with a mix of kittens in a basket excitement, disinterested disdain, and … who? He famously tanked in the US with confusion with the nanu nanu/nanny Williams (Robin: Mork, Mrs Doubtfire!) sometimes blamed. But any fears I had that this would be an Irish/British expat crowd were undone by the tuneless but glorious sound of a gruppe von manner; a group of German gents to my left all night whose vocal prowess is on a par with my own karaoke-emptying level!
Building up to Come Undone, which served as a good reminder of the surprising range and enduring quality of his voice, he shared with us that “there are only 2 types of Robbie Williams songs. Number 1 is ‘I’m Robbie Williams and I’m awesome’. This is one of the number 2’s – I’m miserable and depressed, where the fuck were you then?” The man and his travails are as much part of the show as the music, even as he shares his contemporary family man zen.
“Tonight will be therapy for me but entertainment for you. Are you my friends Luxembourg?” Preposterous nonsense from anyone else … but this is Robbie. As another happy fan, Evelin, put it - “I’ve been dancing and singing happily in the palm of his hand all night – wouldn’t have missed this night for the world!”.
Ask Henry what he made of it, 1 of several spotlighted for a chat with this lovechild of Morrissey and Dave Gahan (his kids, Colin and Justin, have quite the video coming their way, tongue-in-cheeky references to dad’s gay porn addiction and all!). Or, notwithstanding the loud boos when she revealed she’s from Trier, not Lux(!), Kristin, who had Robbie sing She’s the One directly to her. Even the pair of ladies whose constant proximity to the portaloos caught his roving eye (and gave him the excuse to refer to rather different number 2’s).
In keeping with the new album XXV, which brings a Bond bombast to several of the reimagined classics, tonight we were all extras in the ongoing Robbie movie (which, of course, is actually coming to the big screen later this year as biopic “Better Man”).
Memorable, magical, mostly magnificent. Missed Millennium! A bucket list evening.
