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Rating: Describing the personality of a singer, actor, and artist of Fish's caliber presents itself as a relatively daunting task, as there would be pages and pages to write. Presenting his album, "13th Star," and celebrating the twentieth anniversary of Marillion’s masterpiece "Clutching At Straws," Fish takes advantage of the occasion by inventing Clutching at Stars, the tour that encompasses both events. The magic unfolds at Milan's Musicdrome, formerly Transilvania, where the cozy venue provides just the right amount of intimacy, making it the perfect setting for a prototypical concert.
Enter the great Derek Dick, known as Fish, an imposing figure with a solid build, wearing an enormous black t-shirt emblazoned with a starfish, symbolizing the new studio work just released. His shaved head, or rather bald, with two Celtic tattoos on his arms, signifies his true Caledonian imprinting. I still can't believe I’m there, less than a meter from my idol, alongside Roby86 and shooting star, who are also visibly and pleasantly impressed. Fish wears the usual large Arafat-style scarf, now all yellowed, a veteran of tours and glorious concerts, like the one at Lorelei with Marillion in 1987, for which there is even a video. The show opens with Slainte Mhath, with the audience shouting the lyrics, swept away by the superb melody, while Fish, pleased, urges greater participation. Not to mention So Fellini, a track where the audience makes itself heard.
"We love you, Fish!" I shout, and he retorts with a gag: "I love you too, but I can't love a male," and laughter erupts all around. Between songs, it's simply cabaret, his sharp humor and distinct Scottish accent form an irresistible mix, especially when discussing football: "You fucked up my whole summer, you lucky fuckin' bastards!" he exclaims, dramatically simulating a fall which represents our Italian way of playing soccer; he then derides the English, also unqualified for the European Championship, laughing heartily as a great consolation. Keeping up the humor, he talks about loves and broken hearts, road managers with wives about to give birth, and the alleged band waiter who ran off — a good excuse to bring Fish's daughter, Tara, onto the stage with a bottle of white wine, who " holds me upright if I get drunk on stage," as he claims. He then quips about the audience’s age: "I shine" he declares, laughing, referring to his shiny bald head under the spotlight. "You shine, and you shine too, although you try to hide it" he says, pointing to the various middle-aged bald heads in the crowd. He's simply hilarious. "How many of you own 13th Star?" he asks, while many hands rise among the audience, "well, to all the others, this is our new album. And then don’t come grumbling perplexed: ‘But what damn album is this song from?’”. Said like this, it wouldn’t even be that funny, but you had to be there to understand just how brilliant and witty our big Scotsman is.
And so he introduces the tracks from the new album: grand are Circle Line, Square Go, Manchmal, but I am particularly struck by the excellent Dark Star, in my humble opinion the best track on "13th Star". The band is perfect, reflecting the new mood of the direction Fish has taken, that is, delightfully rocking. Yet, it must be said that the band somewhat fades scenically, overshadowed by their singer. Fish still embodies the soul of the old Marillion, his eyes are simply magnetic, his face a mask that transforms into all the bizarre characters he has managed to create over the years. His gestures are captivating, drawing all attention to himself. He can silence the audience with a look or a gesture, only to later unleash one of his profanities, but charisma exudes even when he’s not speaking. Fish is a character that radiates a particular aura, an example of an extraordinary man.
In this regard, the performance of The Perception Oh Johnny Punter will forever remain memorable, which, besides the musicians' flawless execution, offers us a Fish theatrical to the maximum of his potential and simply mesmerizing the audience, with a spoken part against the backdrop of keyboards full of pathos and suspense, managing during a pause in the song to make the entire room fall silent, a silence of almost mystical anticipation before the mighty riff resumes violently. His face can change from serious to humorous in a flash, incredible! And what about the triad Hotel Hobbies/Warm Wet Circles/That Time Of The Night? What can I say? There are no words to describe it, just close your eyes and it felt like hearing the good old Marillion of the past, those who sadly no longer exist today, a performance simply beyond all expectations.
And then starts the wonderful keyboard intro of Vigil, and unexpectedly, Fish takes a crowd bath, walking amongst us, stepping over the barricade right in front of me: I am practically in the front row, and I manage to give him a fond pat on the shoulder, I will never wash my hand again. He makes his way around the room singing, and the audience is literally captivated. He then stops to sing directly in the face of Roby86, who seems no longer to understand a damn thing. After all, it’s perfectly understandable, it’s pure emotion. Heart-wrenching are also the renditions of Sugar Mice and White Russian, and here too, the performance is at the level of Marillion in their golden years.
The band is essentially tailored for Fish: they all play very well, without missing a single note, but they are perfect strangers to the general public (Steve Vantsis, bass; Foss Paterson, keyboards; Gavin John Griffiths, drums; Chris Johnson, second guitar), with the only exception being guitarist Frank Usher, the veteran who has accompanied the Scot since his first solo album, and indeed manages to draw applause and even a chant in his honor towards the end. In fact, in the first encore, Cliché is played, in which Usher delivers a formidable guitar solo, and the stage is for a moment all his, after Fish steps off the stage for a moment. Just before, they had played a fabulous version of Incommunicado, leaving all the fans present ecstatic. Usher feels more connected to Fish's pieces because they are partly his as well, while he merely interprets Marillion's pieces, rather than feeling them as his own. Understandable. In the second encore, Fish, with his beautiful Scotland number 13 jersey with his name on it, proposes the final chapter of both "Clutching At Straws" and the concert: The Last Straw, the general delirium! Everyone sings in chorus: "I'm still drowning/Clutching at straws".
Not even the bizarre cluster of utterly drunk over-forty-year-olds, dressed in office clothes complete with blue shirts, accountant glasses, and fourth-rate beer breath can ruin such a wonderful evening. Certainly, it is curious to see people who could be my father's age pogo like punk teenagers from high school. I laugh, thinking about how warm, friendly, and enthusiastic the Italian crowd is, one of the best in the world. The party ends here, the concert was phenomenal, beyond any approximate expectation. Shooting star is as excited as I am. The slight drop in the magnificent singer's voice on the old tracks, in the end, proved to be totally irrelevant, indeed, no one seemed to have even noticed, so enchanted we were by this perfect evening of music and magic.
And then, seeing "uncle" Roby86 with a totally dumbfounded expression, not to say bewildered, while Fish sings Vigil less than twenty centimeters from his face, is truly priceless.
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