Simon RushworthFish @O2 City Hall Newcastle, March 6 2025
In seeking to explain why now is the right time to step down from the day job, a rather despondent Derek William Dick had confessed to Rushonrock that he felt like a Fish out of water in a music business that he could no longer relate to.
Well, on this evidence, it’s the business that’s clearly out of kilter with music.
For this was the most special of nights: a truly life-affirming live experience that exceeded expectations and delivered on Fish’s heartfelt promise to roll out the fondest of farewells to his devoted North East fans.
The last English show on the long and winding Road To The Isles Tour was a chance for Marillion’s former frontman to take stock, catch a breath and take in the true enormity of his influence prior to two final — and inevitably emotional — stops in Aberdeen and Glasgow.
And he did just that.
Within a gloriously elastic set, stretching beyond two-and-a-half hours, there was plenty of time for casual chat, endearing anecdotes, a few dreadful dad jokes and some well-deserved adulation from a faithful, if far from capacity, O2 City Hall crowd.
That Fish got through the door in the first place was a triumph in itself: the inherently risky ploy of calling out the practice of charging venue commission on merchandise can’t have gone down well with his hosts on the night.
But refusing the campaigning Mr Dick one final Tyneside hurrah would have surely incited a prog rock riot. And nobody wants to see slightly overweight fellows in their 50s and 60s (and possibly 70s) scrapping with security staff on a school night.
What everybody wants to see is a 66-year-old titan of the scene — replete with tartan trousers (or were they pyjama bottoms?) — belting out the very best of a back catalogue stretching across five decades.
Those who still recall pre-90s Marillion, through the Buckfast and Brown Ale-fuelled mists of time, could quite easily have closed their eyes and dreamt of being back at the City Hall around 1981, such is the enduring tone of Fish’s familiarly soothing voice.
The flowing locks might have gone and the energetic pomp somewhat dissipated but there was still a brief balletic turn and the busting of a few trademark moves as the main man thundered through an epic performance.
And there might have been a time when that dynamic display didn’t include a single note from his former band. But this is a ‘career-spanning’ farewell tour and even 37 years since he quit Marillion, Fish is still, for better or worse, synonymous with the poetic pop rockers who made his name.
The first of three encores featured Kayleigh, Lavender and Heart of Lothian. Fish and band reappeared for a febrile rendition of the furious Fugazi. And if that was that as far as Marillion is concerned then a faultless four-song burst from back in the day was enough to satisfy early adopters of Edinburgh’s bard for the ages.
Arguably even better than that nostalgic blast from the past was the six-part Plague Of Ghosts epic introducing funk, soul and trip-hop to the prog rock mix. Wake Up Call (Make It Happen) allowed each band member his or her special exit — with a full crowd accompaniment — before the same song ushered everyone back on stage again.
By now the City Hall was bouncing.
The word-perfect masses had already been treated to solo gems including Credo, Big Wedge and the brilliant Family Business. Thanks to Fish On Friday — the offbeat, lockdown-inspired ‘podcast’ that proved to be a sleeper hit — there was even a shining version of Shadowplay.
Leaning heavily on solo debut Vigil In A Wilderness Of Mirrors and 1999’s Raingods With Zippos (wordsmith Fish must have been cringing at the use of the errant apostrophe within Zippo’s on the big screen during the Plague Of Ghosts suite — or maybe it was just us), this was a gig for the ages.
Truth be told we may never see his like again: in an age of TikTok, The Masked Singer and Spotify, demand for bona fide rock and roll troubadours with a penchant for penning socio-political calls-to-arms is diminishing day by day.
Fish was a man of his time and a man of the people. Many of those people are still there but that time has run its course. The Heart Of Lothian may still be beating hard but it’s clear the Celtic soul can no longer align with the tech-fuelled, Ticketmaster-punching, increasingly transient nature of today’s ever-murkier music business.
Fish’s final show on English soil — 45 years after he first pegged it down from the Borders in his favourite Mini to catch Lindisfarne at the same venue — was a triumph for artistic freedom and for rock and roll in its purest form.
Backed by a faultless band and benefitting from a pin-sharp mix, Dalkieth’s favourite son bowed out in reassuringly flamboyant style.
But make no mistake — a bullish display doubled up as the proverbial flick of the Fish finger to those he blames for his beloved industry’s sorry implosion.
Images courtesy of Adam Kennedy