Review

An evening full of surprises - Chris De Burgh, London Palladium, review

Chris De Burgh at the London Palladium
Chris De Burgh at the London Palladium Credit: Dafydd Owen

Stately gentlemen dancing, octogenarians snoozing in balcony boxes, burly young men jostling in tight white tops, and ladies in red holding glow sticks aloft. Such was the surprising state of affairs at the London Palladium on Wednesday night, which marked the final UK date of Chris De Burgh’s world tour. His concerts are packed with enthusiastic fans who regard him – now 25 albums into a 34-year career – as one of the great purveyors of romantic ballads, in much the same way as others used to rate the more soulful Barry White. Even Diana, Princess of Wales hailed him as her favourite singer.

The 68-year-old may have struggled to maintain a chart presence in the UK, but he has gained a much higher status and popularity in Europe and South America and has a real flair for connecting with such an eclectic mass audience. Indeed, the excitement level was so high at the Palladium that security had to ask a bunch of rowdy lads to simmer down during the interval.

Chris De Burgh
Credit: Action Press/Rex Features

He might have grown up in an Irish castle, attended Marlborough College and have a daughter who was crowned Miss World in 2003, but De Burgh has always been a man of the people. In fact, he’s such an ordinary guy that he once played a concert in a cold and windy Doncaster supermarket car park. I should know. I was there. 

Of course, his antiseptic 1986 blockbuster, The Lady in Red – now used by wedding DJs to clear dance floors at last orders, and here propelling him up the aisles to jockey for kisses – has obscured much of his output. It is, in some ways, the albatross around his neck, and has led many to typecast him as a one-dimensional artist. It didn’t help that a pink bra was flung on stage for the bombastic finale of Patricia the Stripper – a coarse, unsubtle song about, strangely enough, a stripper named Patricia. 

However, having supported prog-rockers Supertramp in the Seventies, De Burgh is not nearly as middle-of-the-road as the uninitiated might imagine, and he has a back catalogue of genuine merit, full of guitar-heavy hits. The eerie Don’t Pay the Ferryman, a feverishly fast-paced song about living life too close to the edge, had everyone on their feet, as did the toe-tapping synth pop of Ship to Shore. Meanwhile, Spanish Train, with its rollicking rhythm and consummate storytelling, had the crowd transfixed.

Proof positive, then, that there’s a lasting demand for De Burgh’s music. Despite his persona lacking rock-star edge, he’s a man who has remained true to his art. Of course, his fans knew that all along.

Chris De Burgh tours the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany through the end of May.

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