Richard Thompson has been at the forefront of both folk and rock for the past 30 years. The last time he played Dublin (November 1999, at Dublin's HQ) he was backed by a band and plugging his then new album Mock Tudor. It was a loud concert, and Thompson - not to put too fine a point on it - rocked. Armed this time with just an acoustic guitar, a back catalogue of some of the finest songs he's written and a rather forced, nervous line in humour, Thompson was quieter but actually more effective. Holding up the darker and tender aspects of love for analysis is part and parcel of what singer/songwriters do. Many do a competent job of it. Thompson, however, is a master craftsman - as much as anything else he reflects the dirt in the cracks of the mirror, the things we could all see if only we looked hard enough.
Because it was an acoustic gig, there were two expedient ways to dole out the songs: hard and fast, and soft and slow. Songs such as 1932 Black Vin- cent Lightning and I Feel So Good are rendered as rock'n'roll workouts, while others (including From Galway To Graceland, Dimming Of The Day, When The Spell Is Broken, Wall Of Death and the exceptional, heartbreaking Beeswing) are offered up as outtakes from a life snagged in a spider's web of inter-personal relationships.
From start to finish (despite wasteful attempts at audience participation) Thompson delivered a superb set that fulfilled its purpose of giving us a glimpse of a person who has loved, lost, gained, contemplated and - just about - made sense of it all.
