Review: Deaf School, Kazimier

Larry Sidorczuk 11 December 2015

DEAF School’s gigs in their home town are guaranteed sell-outs. The tickets for this show went so fast that they had to add another, the night before. But this was the one to be at - not least because it was the last ever music gig at the Kazimier.

This was the one where die-hard fans were squeezed in tight. The one where every number became a mass sing-along. The one where the years simply fell away and the faithful were transported back to the days and nights at the old Royal Court, the 1st annual Jung Festival, Eric’s, the Metro and Hardman House Hotel.

Enrico Cadillac Jnr gets more like Cary Grant over the years, his stage presence is as charismatic as ever, whether it be crooning, pastiching or when he’s belting it out

First off was Henry Priestman and "loved-up" Les Glover’s combination set. Henry’s another fine example of what happens when art meets pop and there many overlaps in his own career and Deaf School’s. It goes back as far as the Hen-John Connection with Mr John Campbell, Albert Dock, the Yachts and It’s Immaterial so it was entirely natural he should be there since he’d, also, previously joined up with Bette Bright’s Illuminations.

Henry’s become more of a guitar man over recent years and is available for house-gigs and pie parties. His set included several songs from his new work The Chronicles of Modern Life including Grey’s the new Blonde and Did I fight on the punk-wars for this? His laid-back style showed real identification with the crowd, celebrating [to an extent] the unexpected satisfaction of the eventual letting go of youthful ambition. There’s a homespun quality to his songs, sentimental and bittersweet. Easy to empathise with on cold winter nights if you’re waiting for the last bus home.

There couldn’t be more contrast with what was to follow: high-octane energy-sapping, sing-yourself-hoarse stuff. Music and words which seemingly everyone knew, each became a common anthem whether it was the usual standards like What A Way To End It All, Where’s The Weekend, Cocktails at 8 or Second Honeymoon. Let’s include Get Set Ready Go, Room Service, Hi Jo Hi and Capaldi’s Café while we’re at it.

What A Way To End It All: Deaf School close down yet another venue

The stage wasn’t much bigger or taller than the old Eric’s but, now, included a couple of balconies. Enrico Cadillac Jnr gets more like Cary Grant over the years, his stage presence is as charismatic as ever, whether it be crooning, pastiching or when he’s belting it out. Over on his left, chanteuse Bette Bright oozed a heady mixture of seductive kitschy romance which perfectly suited both Taxi! and Second Honeymoon.

The first gave the stage to an incredible saxophone solo from Ian Ritchie who produced a virtuoso, reed-splitting rendition. The second became the cue for the now-obligatory waving of the breast-pocket handkerchiefs in homage to seedy nightclubs of Weimar Berlin and the days of Sally Bowles.

By the time she reached Final Act, Bette became the Kaz’s downtown diva for the night. With no need for the perfunctory triangle or flute, she had the assembled crowd in the palm of her hand and most of the blokes wishing it were only true (Bloody hell, ed).

Cabaret-glam is yet another of Deaf School’s major influences, going back as far as Roxy Music, Manhattan Transfer, and early Bowie. A sizeable number of art college students in Liverpool held them up as idols n the early 1970s along with de-rigour Black Sobranies, Aunt Twacky’s and the original Everyman Bistro.

As the show progressed, it was good that they gave an airing to some of new numbers from the recently-launched album Launderette, in particular Broken Aristocrats which is easily recognisable as a Deaf School number. Included is Darling, a track from your very own Mr Steve “Average” Lindsay underlining his Deaf School pop credentials which became further honed in his later album Swinging Suburbia.

Norman minds the merch

By contrast, Cliff Hanger is more at home hammering out a solid Deaf School beat on his guitar seemingly indifferent to the damage he’s doing to his fingertips and nails as in floor-shaking Ronnie Zamora, Deaf School’s short-lived experiment in punk rock. Yet, he can still pick out a tune as well as Hank Marvin when the mood demands it. It’s commonly acknowledged that whilst the “Deaf School sound” is a group dynamic, Cliff is very much at the musical helm and his partnership with Enrico/Bright for lyrics produces their quite unique blend of urbane romance with a rocking rhythm brought to full-bodied fruition through the accomplished skills of drummer Greg Braden.

Elsewhere, the Rev. Max Ripple tends to shun the limelight as keyboards supremo, only occasionally giving in to temptation with his pithy little asides to the crowd on the virtues or otherwise of his housekeeper. Very much McGill and it all goes down a treat. Bit like his housekeeper.

Suffice to say that Deaf School were the perfect end-of-the-pier show for the much-loved Kazimier. They did much the same before the old Everyman and Pacific Road Arts Centre closed but I guess it’s always best to go out on a high. A high it certainly was and, in the words of Final Act, they had us all “pleading for more at the last curtain call” so much so that they had three encores – itself unprecedented.

As they all finally ascended the steps to the tiny box which served as their communal dressing-room, Bette’s bouquet of roses still lying on the stage, an impromptu chorus rang out…”We love you, Deaf School, we do”.

At the risk of selfishness, it makes you think how lucky we are that they didn’t actually “make it big” since these intimate in-your-face devotee gigs could never happen, even in their home city.

Long live Deaf School. Long live the spirit of the Kazimier.

10/10

Photos: Frances Collingwood/Arthur Hughes