Music > Live Reviews

The Rutles

Norwich Arts Centre

10/06/19

Shaun Greenhalgh, Britain’s most prolific art forger, created hundreds of masterful forgeries between 1978 and 2006. These weren’t copies, but rather work done in the style of Renaissance masters and Impressionist greats, producing original paintings and sculptures that might well have been done by the geniuses he mimicked. Greenhaigh ended up serving nearly five years in prison for his endeavours, but he’s nevertheless the closest parallel I can think of to Neil Innes reworking of the Beatles back catalogue. Whether Innis already had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Fab Four’s work, or would have been just as happy creating material for the Rutling Stones (had Eric Idle gone in that direction) I do not know, but the songs produced for Idles mockumentary have survived the test of time far better than the film in which they first appeared. An extraordinary forty years on from their first public airing, Innes is touring as the Rutles, performing material from the film, as well as further songs he then went on to write when the fictional band took on a life of its own

Playing at NAC without support, Innes and his band divided the evening into two sessions. When first learning of this, I had a moment of shuddering horror at the prospect of the band appearing first as mop tops and then dressed as Sgt Pepper, with set lists tailored accordingly. The bands sole concession to theatrical costumery was the decision to wear hats, with a set list quickly abandoned chronology. Of course, in the meta-world of the Rutles, there is no reliable chronology. Number One and Hold my Hand undoubtedly reference (to quote Innes) songs from the Hamburger days, while Piggy in the Middle tips a hat to I am the Walrus, but such is the loving authenticity with which the songs have been crafted, I had to keep reminding myself that they weren’t really written years apart, or in any particular order

At NAC, only Nasty and Barry (that’ll be Innes and drummer John Halsey) remained from the original line up, with Phil Jackson’s keyboard filling out the sound provided by Ken Thornton and David Catlin-Birch on guitar and bass. It was yet another step away from the band’s roots - distancing both audience and band from its parodic beginnings. That said, while I am by no means an aficionado of either the Beatles or the Rutles, I confess to having the most fun, and feeling the smuggest, when ticking off the one-to-one relationship between the songs played and those that initially inspired then. By aping arrangements, style, and instrumental configurations more than melodies or narrative, Innes managed to evoke classic Beatles tunes without copying a single note or lyric. So we got Ouch instead of Help, Love Life instead of All You Need is Love, and Double Back Alley instead of Penny Lane. All of them masterfully done, and all good tunes in their own right. Move away from the big hitters, and there were still riches to be found in Joe Public taking on Tomorrow Never Knows or Let’s be Natural bringing to mind Dear Prudence.

I did feel cut adrift sometimes, with the likes of Questionnaire and Lonely-phobia defeating me. Although I’m guessing that here too were expertly reworked tunes, when unshackled from an understanding of what they were meant to be mimicking, the music seemed more pedestrian, and the band just that little less interesting. Perhaps I am simply too ill educated to understand how clever the songs were, but I did start to wonder at the policy of including quite so many that the Beatles themselves might have discreetly dropped. When, along the way, we got a couple of sweet tributes to George Harrison, both Handle me with Care and All Things Must Pass offered welcome sorbets in what would otherwise have been an unremitting parodic diet that I began to weary of. It seems terribly mean-spirited, when the band was so obviously having such a good time, but things did start to go on a bit. Running over half an hour longer than advertised by rights this was nothing less value for money, but I can’t help feeling that a judicious editing of the set list would have produced a slimmer and ultimately more entertaining evening.

In contrast, for proper acolytes of the Rutles (of which there were many) the evening was always going to end too soon. The woman dancing away in front of me seemed overwhelmed with excitement as one favourite Rutles’ tune followed another. Singing along, word perfect, she looked to be entirely untroubled by determining parallels with classic songs, and was quite content to appreciate Living in Hope, Goose Step Mama and Cheese and Onion as great songs in their own right. Neal Innis embraced and returned this obvious affection, and seemed a lovely, warm man. His songs were clever, knowing and  expertly delivered, and while once was probably enough for me, I’m very glad I went to see the Rutles live, a pet project that clearly means so much to him and the fans he performs for.