1983 was a damn good year. Joe Jackson was a damn good artist. Both are no longer, but that’s OK cuz we got recordings, photographs and memories to remind us.
When the kind folks at Spotify sent me an email to advise that Joe Jackson’s Live At Rockpalast was now streaming I paused. See Joe got weird progressively so the timing of his work is vital Its as if when he got a hit pop tune in the states his entire being hiccuped and ran off course. The jazz guy, the smoking gun.. just wtf bro, where did THE MAN go?
Joe Jackson has always had that great jazzy swing but he (like most of his peers) is an extremist. I like my Duke with a bit of Brit pop, please. In 1983 he was dipping his toe in just a bit deeper but not enough to alienate his pop wave fans. I should know, I was one. Obsessed with both Jackson and the other man of the decade Elvis Costello, I was fan girl central for every geeked out British boy. Joe Jackson upbeat anger was something I found so addictive I would at times listen to nothing else.
This 2CD set was originally released in April of 2012. So a year and half later Spotify gets ahold of it. CD’s, hmmm even last year I wasn’t buying them. So thank you Spotify for giving me this lovely gift and nice safe passage into some of the coolest times of my life.
When you start off your album with “On Your Radio”, there is only one way to go- down. But like a game of hot potato, Joe Jackson is able to maintain song after song of perfection. Whomever scripted this set list was a fucking genius and I don’t think it was Jackson. The crowd that night didn’t get a breather until well past the first eight tunes. Lets face it “Tuxedo Junction” absolutely sucks on this recording. The big fat dog in the middle of perfection. But in a way its OK. If this misplaced self love tune wasn’t there I’d be yipping like a puppy about the sheer perfection and ‘awesomeness’ of Joe Jackson, 1983 and slam shut the door of my time warp. So thank you for a pause of clarity that some stuff can suck even from the fingers of a near perfect performance.
Despite my disdain for live albums this particular one is clean enough to not be annoying. There is no ‘woo’ repetition from the crowd, no noticeable sing along bullshit. Each of the 19 songs on ‘disc 1’ held my heart so tight there were times I randomly belted out lyrics and had the volume so high the speakers jumped off shelves. “Slow Song” not one of my faves when it was originally released takes on a life of its own in this particular version. I can see his veins bulging in my minds eye- I can feel tightness in my own chest as I remember the people who were around me when I first heard this (and how hilarious they thought it was that I loved Jackson as much as I did) I’m still alive- they are not. Amazing how a music can be a Kleenex filled time capsule dontcha think?
But wait wait, Im not sobbing. Fuck no! This album is filled with brilliant reminders of fabulous times even in the infamous ‘Stepping Out” with the best line ever of “in a yellow taxi turn to me and smile, we’ll be there in just awhile’. Good times, fabulous neon times of teetering on the edge of extreme innocence and wise beyond years. A snapshot of time that this album enlarges and clarifies into a superb scrapbook.
Silly shit like his shout out of “MoTown Melody!”, lightens the load. Seriously Joe knew how to whip an audience around but I think his eccentricity stymied his fame potential. Damn shame “Uptight, outta site”. The adrenaline fused “Tears of A Clown” is so fast and so fab and shout out to the bassist on this entire concert…………dammm.. “I’m Gonna Make You Love Me”- son you aint gotta try. Motown Melody is our segway out of this disc, “Heatwave” for good measure. Taking us back in time and rather than forward – back even more is the self indulgent style that makes Joe Jackson so incredibly brilliant.
Thanks for the memories and the broken speaker.
You can watch the entire concert here- what a frikkin babe…