MY EARLIEST memories from the late 1970s and early 80s are perfumed by the ever-alluring fragrance of Kate Bush long players and posters belonging to my then teenage uncle.
My gran would have Behan and ballads, her youngest son, although known for heavier tastes, had a penchant for this weird, theatrical and dancing song-bird.
The unofficial policy at EMI was said to be “Birds don’t sell” but this teenage prodigy proved otherwise and even had a stand-off with the label to get Wuthering Heights released as her debut 45rpm. They only relented when it was made clear she would go elsewhere.
You have to admire that kind of robust self-belief and integrity; Bush had complete control over every aspect of her career and argued that the public weren’t fickle; she wasn’t wrong in her case.
Even after a 35-year break from touring, few could command the media attention and demand for tickets that we’ve witnessed over the course of the past few months.
At this year’s Edinburgh Fringe there’s been something of a Kate Bush revival, Jess Robinson delivered a captivating medley, although delivering a parody, it struck me how exhilarating it was to hear these songs in a live setting, similarly Cutting off Kate Bush has been another success story.
It’s star Lucy Benson-Brown suggested it was a less obvious track which inspired her show: “The Red Shoes, got me thinking about a narrative, I knew her music would work in a theatrical sense, it’s almost got a Riverdance feel to it but it’s much darker and more gothic, it draws you in.”
Today pop music is monotonous in comparison, the clamorous and desperate sexuality of many is an ugly mess on our screens and airwaves.
The iconic imagery of Kate drifting across the moors, wide eyed and in that floating red dress for the Wuthering Heights promo, the extraordinary bat wings on the cover of the Breathing or the hypnotic Irish lilt on Army Dreamers are just a few examples of her strange and beguiling attraction.
The album I remember most fondly is Lionheart, in hindsight it wasn’t favourably received after the game changing success of The Kick Inside. The protagonist of In The Warm Room draws you in to “kiss those red lips” like in so many of her songs there’s a fatal consequence once desire is fulfilled. But what she captures like no one else is an otherworldly atmosphere and wistful in-between state.
She’s comfortable in either her Irish or English skin celebrating something of her dual identity. Oh England My Lionheart is another overlooked gem which effortlessly captures a yearning for England in the form of a soldier returning home after the war, flapping umbrellas in the rain, reading Shakespeare outside the rolling Thames, thumping hearts and ravens at Tower Bridge.
There’s nothing remotely nationalistic about it, just a few moments of lyrical magnificence about her love of place and culture in the form of what could almost be an ancient folk song. On Wow she asserts: “we’re all alone on the stage” which begs the question; why now after all this time?
I was my son’s age when Kate Bush last played in Britain, her show then taking in my hometown at the Usher Hall, Edinburgh back in April 1978. There’s only a handful of gigs I’ve travelled to London for; Guns N Roses at Wembley Stadium in 1991 and Led Zeppelin in 2007 are highlights.
To be honest I don’t think there’s anyone left I would go this far to see; there’s also a certain magic about the venue which sees her return to the scene of The Tour of Life shows. My uncle wore out his Live At Hammersmith VHS where it was filmed as well as a recording of David Bowie’s last appearance as the same venue as Ziggy Stardust in 1973.
No one is expecting the lithe Kate of 1979 leaping across the stage, her operatic voice has also changed but I’m not alone in my love of the deep, rich tones of 50 Words for Snow and while having no idea what to expect I’m sure it will be every bit as compelling, imaginative and intimate as the many train journeys I’ve spent listening to Kate looking out the window of the East Coast line from Edinburgh to London.
