Focus
A few days ago I mentioned, in passing, to a Dutch friend that I was seeing Focus. “Never heard of them,” joked Tim. The point being that the joke only works if you understand that the idea of his ignorance is preposterous. Granted there is Golden Earring, Teach-In won Eurovision, and a handful of dance music DJs have done very well for themselves, but Focus surely wears the crown, both for longevity and lasting influence. Every right minded Dutchman has heard of the Netherland’s most successful musical export, and Tim is no exception, despite not being born when they were at the height of their success.
The audience at the Epic, a markedly mature crowd, were definitely born in time, and fully acquainted with the bands material. They also came well prepared for the chill wind of the air conditioning blowing through the venue. I’m presuming this was a covid precaution so no criticism from me. On the contrary, it was good to be with a crowd that self-policed its social distancing and treated each other with such good manners and respect. Given Thijs van Leer’s delightfully self- effacing commentary on proceedings throughout that night, perhaps that’s simply the sort of people Focus attracts. It was certainly, given their rapturous reception, a night for the fans.
A pity, then, that things got off to a wobbly start. Leer’s kicked things off with an entrancing flute solo, but once the band got into the opening number, it was frankly a bit of a mess. There was something very wrong with the sound, and it was frowns all round in the audience, as the Hammond organ burped and hiccoughed away. New kids on the block, Menno Gootjes and Udo Pannekeet on guitar and bass, did their best to carry the tune of Focus I, leaving Leer to wrestle with an organ that wasn’t co-operating. Fortunately, by the time we got to House of the King the band was off and running, and I get the chance for a bad joke. When asked what TV show used House of the King as its intro music, I was pleased to be able to reply Don’t Ask Me. And for those too young to remember Magnus Pyke’s accessible science programme, there is always Saxondale to fall back on. Either way it’s one of several Focus tunes you didn’t know you didn’t know.
All of which laid the ground work for what Leer described as “one of our longer pieces”. The announcement that this was Eruption was met by cheers all round - this was proper hard-core progressive noodling at its finest, with long-time drummer Pierre van der Linden coming into his own. The first set closed with another familiar song - however ignorant you may think you are regarding Focus, at some time or another you would have heard and probably likes Sylvia, and perhaps wondered who performed it. If you’ve been counting, that’s three and a bit songs in an hour, which is a pretty good gauge of what you get from Focus – long, involved and frequently convoluted passages, punctuated by frenetic activity and astonishing musicianship. It makes for an uneven, but never dull, evening. As my companion put it with unnerving precision, “I’ve really liked 65% of what I’ve heard, and never want to hear the other 35% again.”
The second set continued in much the same vein, with a curious little number called Le Tango, which did exactly what it said on the tin. It highlighted how much wider Focus spreads its wings – not at all an evening of straight prog rock, with many of the tunes far funkier and jazzier that you might expect, not least when Leers performed a Cab Calloway style scat sing along. The jury is still out on what Hocus Pocus qualifies as, but having been rehabilitated by its inclusion in Edgar Wright’s superb Baby Driver, I thought it inevitable that the band would close with it. I was surprised, therefore, when they broke into it mid-way through the second set. Leer yodelled his way through, as nutty as ever, though I thought it telling that Menno Gootjes’s guitar handled the high notes, which are presumably now outside Leer’s range. In assessing timings, what I hadn’t reckoned on was the interminable drum solo. I don’t know when these stopped being part of a concert but this was an unwelcome reminder of how tedious they are, however accomplished the performer, and for me was a disappointing way to round things off. Thankfully, the obligatory encore did much to right that wrong, with a rendition of Focus III that was a set highlight.
Was this the finest concert I’ve never seen? Not by a long way. It wasn’t even the finest Focus concert I’ve seen. Leer was looking and sounding all of his seventy four years, which gave the concert a valedictory feel, the sound was decidedly dodgy, and it really was very, very cold. That said, I was never bored, was frequently intrigued and occasionally delighted. Leer was as warm in his discourse as ever, and seemed sincerely grateful we’d all come out to see him. As one of the last men standing of seventies rock, it’s still a pleasure to see him, secure in the knowledge he is still soldiering on.
