Lessons from the Master

Meeting the Master

Some days ago, I flew to the UK to attend a long-overdue concert on Monday night in York by one of my greatest musical inspirations. He goes by many names: The Voice of Rock, The Funkmeister, Big Daddy, even Glenn Hughes…..but for me, he is simply the Master.  Backed by a superb band, he owns the stage, stomping around with an energy that belies his years, delivering his bass lines and sublime vocals with an effortless grace.

He played two songs on Monday that drove right to the heart of the passion he ignited in me to become a bass-player/singer. “Sail Away” – one of my favourites from the classic “Burn” album by Deep Purple – perhaps one of the first bass riffs I ever learned, and “Keepin’ Time” – the blockbusting opener from Trapeze’s third album “You are the Music….we’re just the band.”

When these songs came out, I was an impressionable, awkward youth, stumbling through my early teens. I was already a drummer in a band, occasionally singing, but when I heard Glenn’s breathtaking vocals, and pounding funk-laden rock bass, I just knew what I was going to be.

Unbelievably, that was forty years ago. He strides onto the stage at the Grand Opera House in York, a legend undiminished, and as I remarked to him in the chill of the night outside the stage door as the band left to continue the tour, he is like a fine wine, getting better and better with age. Slaying his demons, he has become a testament to belief in the music, and boy, does the music do the talking for him. In an age where kids have role models that it seems effortless to surpass, Glenn Hughes is from a different era, where aspiring musicians could draw inspiration by capturing just a fraction of the talents of these guys that wandered across the rock landscape of the early 70’s. Punctuating his set with snatches of self-deprecating, wry humour, I sense a man totally at ease with his stage persona, a man who has come home.

It speaks volumes that his playing and singing has exactly the same effect on my now, as in the early 70’s. It fires me. It makes me want to go home and practice, and play, just make music.

The guy sat next to me had brought his young teenage daughter along. As the last notes faded into the shadows of the old auditorium and the audience headed out into the night, he turned to her and said: “You can revise for your A levels tomorrow. This is all the education you need.”

It’s certainly been enough for me. Glenn, I salute you – you’re still The Master.

Kev Moore