Review of the Bootleg Beatles

by BBFC Member Mark Wesson

Christmastime is here again and that means The Bootlegs are back in town. On a wet and miserable Thursday night in Nottingham, slightly earlier in December than normal, the locals gathered in Langtry’s, The Orange Tree, The Three Crowns….anywhere to avoid the sky-high bar prices in the robbing Concert Hall. By 8pm, kids from one to ninety two (not quite that young but possibly older)  were seated and ready, a splendid time guaranteed for all. The lights went down, the murmur of anticipation swelled into a cheer and the now-familiar introductory scene-setting 60s film flashed on to the backdrop. But here was the first of several changes to the show from previous years – less than a minute of film before The Bootlegs took to the stage in darkness and then ripped in to She Loves You (if this wasn’t the first song blame John Smith and his very good friends Jack Daniels and Jim Beam, not me). And wow – here was another change. New George looked fantastic, right down to the lopsided grin. It’s been a long, long, long time since Old George has properly looked the business and they have played a blinder with his replacement . Musically, vocally, physically spot on. A side-effect of this welcome upgrade though is that Paul now looks even more out of place (someone get William Campbell on the phone!), especially in the early part of the set when they are in the collarless head-shaking phase. These days Bootleg Paul resembles a slimmed down and less violent Sylvester Stallone making Rocky XXXVI – Streetfight For The Last Werther’s Original. His days must be numbered (in large print).

This Boy, Twist and Shout, I Want To Hold Your Hand, Help!, I Feel Fine, Day Tripper, Paperback Writer….the early belters were delivered as accurately as you could ever hope to hear. They are a stunning band and New George seems to have improved the sound. In fact it is far easier now to spot what doesn’t sound 100% as opposed to what does (eg. the solo parts on Taxman. Not enough distortion. Like Ringo, it’s only a small thing though). Before Yesterday, we had an updated gag from George -  “and so for Paul McCartney of Liverpool, Britain’s Got Talent!”. The song was performed well enough but Paul seemed to sound less like Beatle Paul here. On the rockier tunes and on backing vocals he still sounded great (man) but exposed on this ballad, he just seemed to sound like a good singer, not McCartney. It was less nasal, a little too light. Maybe New George had scratched ‘P45’ into the back of Sly’s acoustic and it had unsettled him. 

There was a new costume change in to dark blue/green double-breasted suits with red silk shirts. I hadn’t seen those before. This was after we had been treated to another butchered segment of the familiar backdrop film. Relatively-New John is excellent but he seemed quite distant, something more noticeable during the pre-Pepper songs. I couldn’t decide if he was actively trying to nail John’s casual indifference or was tired of touring or just plain bored with the early tunes. He looks and sounds terrific but that air of latent menace is missing. Like Yoko though, it’s tiny and insignificant in the scheme of things.

Halftime drinks were waiting for us on a table away from the bar. If you ever go to the Concert Hall, I can’t recommend ordering these highly enough (just don’t drink mine). You are more likely to find a sensible football pundit on ITV than get served at the bar in the interval. The second half rocked and rolled along beautifully – Get Back, All You Need Is Love, A Day In The Life, Revolution, Let It Be. Can you go wrong with such classics? Well, yes you can. I have seen and heard enough thoroughly woeful versions to know when they are actually done justice and The Bootleg Beatles are utterly faithful in every way. The banter with the crowd (acknowledging committed dancers in the front row, meaning they should probably have been committed), the studied mannerisms, the quality musicianship, the careful use of strings and brass….but more than all these is the feel. Through time and hard work they have simply mastered the perfect feel and it is testament to the patience and knowledge of the original band that they are able to replace older members so seamlessly. They’re still the act we’ve known for all these years.

Apologies if I missed a dancing elephant on stage during Hey Jude or the entire twelfth row spontaneously combusting but by the end John, Paul, George and Ringo had been eclipsed in my mind by John, Jack, Jim and the burning need for a massive bag of salty chips. Can’t buy me love? No, but you can buy me a pint in The Bell before said chips while I ramble on for 20 minutes about a fire extinguisher and New George’s teeth. Oh and a ticket for next year’s show. You can do that.