It is probably the hottest day so far this June, seven o’clock in the evening and it’s still 30 degrees, so it’s fair to say I’m not overly looking forward to being in a room with six or seven hundred people. The 1865 is Southampton’s newest venue; once a working man’s club/dance hall, it has a large stage, a mezzanine bar and a room length balcony; along with a great sound system and lighting it is my favourite venue. I love it even more as I walk through the door and the fully operational air con has dropped the temperature to about 18 degrees.

The room is set out tonight in combination lounge style with tables and chairs, and standing. It is already full, a fact which does not go unnoticed by Marriott who later thanks everyone for either ‘supporting her, or coming early to get a seat’.

Mollie Marriott is the epitome of an English Rose, blonde hair, peachy skin and the plummy tones of a well-schooled girl.  Announcing it will be a laid-back set as she only has a guitarist and keyboards with her, she opens with an older song, ‘A Woman Undone’.  A beautiful song, ironically best described as Americana in style, Marriott’s voice soars into the room. Closely followed by an as yet un-released song written for her fourteen-year-old daughter; who she proudly describes as a Helena Bonham-Carter in a world of Kardashians; ‘Let Your Freak Out’ is warmly received by the audience who all clearly  recognize the sentiment.

She introduces the next song ‘Trouble and Shame’ as written by her and Judie Tzuke which brings appreciative applause from the audience who are of an age to have owned ‘Welcome to the Cruise’; (the only album Tzuke is really known for despite releasing twenty-one others!). A soulful, silky song that works with the stripped-down band.

‘The Truth is a Wolf’ is a song about how the truth will hunt you down and Marriott gleefully dedicates this dark and soulful ballad to Amber Heard, which raises applause and laughter. She is obviously having a good time and encourages the audience to join in with the howling, which they do.

Marriott’s voice is a beguiling mix of soulfulness and clarity of tone, she is a witty raconteur with the comic timing of Emma Thompson and her between song chat is as entertaining as the songs. She closes out the set with Jimmy Reed’s ‘Shame, Shame, Shame’, which I suspect is a nod to her father. She leaves the stage to uproarious applause and a gentlemanly hand from one of the security guys.

Walter Trout comes on stage with the band and launches into the wonderful boogie blues number ‘I Can Tell’, a chaos of guitar and Bob Fridzema’s keyboards held tight by Johnny Griparic’s (bass) and Michael Leasure’s (drums) rhythm section. It’s clear the band are setting up for a good time and as they wind to a halt Trout says how good it is to be out playing after ‘sitting on his ass’ for two years. 

It’s ‘Bomp a Bomp’ next, a traditional blues improv that the band just jumps in on when they feel like it.

Regular Trout gig goers know that at some point his Tour Manager of twenty years, Andrew Elt, joins the band on stage for a song, usually a screaming version of ‘Mercy’. however this time he picks up his guitar for the rocking ‘Wanna Dance’ from the ‘Ordinary Madness’ album. This gives Griparic the opportunity to rock it up, and throw a few shapes with Elt. Trout shows his rock credentials with some very fine fretwork and a tasty solo or two. Fridzema drives everything along with some Hammond organ soundings runs.

The mood takes a softer. more sombre note with a song about grief and loss, written for his friend Teeny Tucker after she lost her son. This is a heart wrenching traditional blues ballad that allows Trout full rein of what he does best, long soulful, drawn-out notes that wring every ounce of emotion from a song. The mood lifts, although the sentiment stays with ‘Broken Heart’, a schmoozy rhythm and blues number that really needs a lot more smoke and whisky than is normally found in an English venue. The keys and guitar gently weave and mimic each other through the solos.

It’s at this point in the show that Trout relates the tale of his almost death eight years ago. Despite many years of cleaning up his act his liver started to fail and he was told his only chance of survival was a transplant. His wife, Marie updating fans regularly on social media announced they were at the eleventh hour and fans expected imminent notice of his death. And, just when all hope seemed to be gone, a suitable liver was found and miraculously, despite being almost too weak to operate on the surgeons replaced his liver – while listening to his music in the operating theatre. Crowdfunding brought in tens of thousands of dollars to pay for his long recovery. Even then the story wasn’t over, he suffered brain damage, lost the ability to speak, didn’t recognise his family, after eight months in bed could no longer walk and if that wasn’t bad enough he could no longer remember how to play his guitar, Yet within a year he had managed through sheer willpower to get everything back. What you see on stage is a man who knows he has had eight years and counting of time he shouldn’t have had, and gratitude that he can still do what he loves in front of the fans that helped when he was down. All this leads us to ‘Almost Gone’ from the therapeutic ‘Battle Scars’ album. Once again, they are joined by Elt on guitar to fatten out the rock sound.

‘Playing Hideaway’ is a great blues rocker that has the audience hopping and get them in the mood for the first of Trout’s two guest performers, Vincent White, a young blues guitarist who plays in the style of the great Jeff Healy. They do a wonderfully scrappy version of ‘Dust My Broom’ with Fridzema contributing some honkytonk piano backing to the guitar duel between Trout and White. He then introduces Will Wilde an up-and-coming harmonica player. Looking like a pistoleer with the holster of back up harps strapped across his chest, the long haired, leather clad Wilde almost didn’t make it on stage after a woman called security on him as she thought he was weaponised. Wilde and Trout traded and matched riffs as if their lives depended on it. We will surely see more of both these musicians in the future and kudos to Trout for giving them the opportunity to shine in front of potential fans. (As an aside Trout tells the story of how he played harmonica for Canned Heat for four years, after they discovered he could play they sacked the harmonica player as the money went further split four ways instead of five)

This is the last night of the UK tour and the band now have an end of term looseness and fun about them, ‘Ride ‘til I’m Satisfied’ is a high-octane boogie blues that has Trout bending strings to breaking point as they race up and down the fretboard. ‘Ordinary Madness’ slows down into a more traditional sleazy blues, this is the 2am juke joint song, the strings howl emotively and the audience is mesmerised. The set closes out with ‘Red Sun’, from ‘Survivor Blues’ another rockier song during which he quietens the band for his regular ‘duty’ as he describes it, to remind the audience that he is here because someone donated a liver and that if we want to do one good thing we should all sign up and donate too. He follows this by introducing the band members whogradually ramp back up to full tempo before finishing the set.

Of course, he’s not going to be allowed off without an encore and he comes back on to tell the story of how he met Rory Gallagher, before he launches into Gallagher’s ‘Bulldog Blues’ which in truth is more rock n roll than blues. He is joined once again by Elt and Wilde and the entire band give it their all, the audience claps and whistles and then, thoroughly sated, everyone slips quietly into the hot summer night.

Words & images: Helen Bradley

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