Review by Jerry Thackray aka Everett True
Dexys @ Brighton Dome, 19 September 2023
It’s theatre.
“It’s alright, Jerry. It’s OK. Yes, all across the new Dexys album The Feminine Devine, Kevin Rowland gives voice to his deep (chauvinist) soul – from the opening number ‘The One Who Loves You’, which as The Guardian put it, ‘bristles with condescending protective blokey energy’, right through the odd, S&M-tinted second side, wherein Kev suggests his ideal woman is both ‘liberated in every way’ and ‘easy on the eye’ (‘My Goddess Is’). Yes, his idea of attempting to reject sexism by placing women on altars to be worshipped feels one step forward, two steps back. Has no one in the Dexys camp heard of “The Male Gaze”? Yes, the music often feels inauthentic (to use a much-abused term) – 70s sleaze-funk in places, slow-motion piano refrains in others, session musician slick. But…”
It’s theatre.
“Yes, Jerry. It’s theatre. You need to appreciate that Dexys (and Dexys Midnight Runners) have always been theatre: such wonderful stage-shows, so many set-pieces, forthright ideas and manifestos. What was it you loved about 2012’s One Day I’m Going To Soar if it wasn’t the theatrics? I mean, ‘Incapable Of Love’… c’mon. You knew that was exaggeration, amplification of emotion for the sake of a cracking good song.”
But it felt so real.
“It’s alright, Jerry. It felt real. And that’s the problem with the new album, isn’t it? It feels so real: like Kevin is exposing his soul once more, berating himself for his past failures and future mistakes, even amid the set-pieces, the smoke and mirrors. The problem being, he can’t separate himself from his art. He is too earnest and self-aware for that: although he tries to hide behind various characters, most of the characters seem very much rooted in him. Don’t they? But… honestly now… do you even know the real Kev?”
I’ve met him a few times. Chatted on occasion.
“Yeah, but c’mon. You’re dealing with a persona here, not the actual individual.”
So: it’s theatre.
“Yes Jerry, it’s theatre. Does that matter? Isn’t the only question that matters: did you enjoy yourself?”
It’s more complicated than that. This band means too much to me to be summed up so simplistically.
“What do you mean?”
It’s my life, you know. My life.
“Yeah. I know.”
My life.
“So you’re saying that, in a live setting, you don’t care whether The Feminine Devine makes for uncomfortable listening, even where it reinforces archaic and crap archetypes of male behavioural patterns towards women with lines such as, ‘Women have been put down for too long and it’s down to you and me’, as long as you can get on your feet and dance to ‘Plan B’?”
No. Don’t be stupid. I care.
(Pause)
(Explodes, briefly)
For starters, who the fuck is the “you” supposed to be in that line?
“It’s OK, Jerry. It’s alright. You’re allowed to feel whatever you want. Maybe you don’t need to judge others by standards you don’t hold yourself to, though. Just accept it. You love Dexys, but you don’t love everything Kevin does. That would be absurd anyway.”
Wait. Slow down. You’re making it seem like I didn’t enjoy the concert the other night. That’s not true. I loved it. Contradictions and all. It’s just that… just that they felt more palatable, dressed up on stage, being performed live and with stage movement left, more acceptable with the barrier between performer and audience in place. I could believe (and not believe) in it on many different levels: no one is prefect (sic). Do I think the sentiments on the new album are misguided, wrong? Yes. Do I think that’s deliberate on Kev’s part? No. Do I believe that he believes he’s really trying to address issues from the past. Yes. And that matters. No one is perfect (sic). Certainly not me. It’s a joy to be part of a community and embrace the contradictions. Don’t shy away from them. Embrace them, acknowledge them. Life is complicated and many of us – most of us – disagree.
“So this is your ‘Manhood, 2023’.”
(Pause)
Is it?
(Pauses)
I was dancing during the second half, when very few others were. How could anyone resist the siren call of ‘Plan B’ and ‘I’ll Show You’, brass burnished bright and alive, the violin player extraordinary? How could anyone resist the siren call, resonating down through all these decades of the extraordinarily unexpected and most welcome set closer ‘Tell Me When My Light Turns Green’, the spoken word self-exploratory journey from ‘Soar’ (‘Free’)? I was grabbing at fists full of air in delight. When the band started up the teaser refrain for ‘Come On Eileen’ it came as a massive disappointment cos I knew the evening was going to finish soon and I was only just getting started. Yes, I enjoyed myself. It’s Dexys. It’s Kevin. How could I not enjoy myself?
“I heard you walked out the last time you saw them (2014, at the Roundhouse).”
Yeah, but I was on my own. It was a odd time. It was more a reflection on me, my state of mind and my state of unhappiness than the band. Since then, I’ve listened to that set countless times – it contains one 23-minute section I want played at my funeral. It wasn’t the band. Jesus, no.
“But the point remains, you walked out.”
I wasn’t going to make the same mistake tonight. I was with a companion: she loved it, beginning to end. Her first time. She loved it. I got up and danced, soon as I could. I felt uncomfortable with the album on vinyl, but live (in act one) it began to cease to threaten my feminist understanding of the world – temporarily, anyway. It’s an act, a persona. Kev is clearly aware of the contradictions in much of what he is performing – hence the closing barked command ‘Dance With Me’ to follow the (perhaps overrated) ‘My Submission’; wherein he reasserts his masculinity.
“So your point is?”
I don’t have a point. I just know that it was a thrill, a pleasure, a delight to witness Dexys perform live again.
Dexys.
Dexys.