Cadogan Hall – audience capacity 953 – is probably the smallest venue Todd Rundgren has ever played in London. It’s not about a star which is fading. Last year, he sold out The London Palladium.
It’s a matter of choice. One that’s as unpredictable as many he’s made in the past. When Rundgren played Shepherd's Bush’s Empire in 2013, there were walk-outs at the not-fully sold show. What was going on on the stage mixed projections of photos and versions of his songs so re-rendered they were unrecognisable. It perplexed. Back in October 1994, he played what was dubbed an interactive show at Kentish Town’s Forum. It befuddled. No wonder he titled his 2019 autobiography The Individualist.
Last year, he was at it again. Playing the Palladium, he recast himself in the role of what came across as a soul singer, one mostly shying away from performing the familiar classics strewn throughout his back catalogue. Some wag there shouted out “Todd, will you please play something that we actually want to hear?”
If the mood took them, potential ticket buyers could go for the £355 'VIP Mingle and Merch Package'
This time, it is different.
The stop at Cadogan Hall is part of a series of dates billed as the "Damned If I Do" tour. The venue's promo blurb for the show quotes him saying “It’s always a challenge for me because my audience is so diverse, I never know what they’re in the mood for. I want to make sure we have all the musical ammunition we need to satisfy the spectrum.” On stage, his fellow musical combatants were his usual band, The Hot Toddies: Gil Assayas (keyboards), Bruce McDaniel (guitar), Prairie Prince (drums), Bobby Strickland (keyboards, percussion, wind instruments, dad-at-a-wedding dancing) and Kasim Sulton (bass). If the mood took them, potential ticket buyers could go for the £355 “VIP Mingle and Merch Package” which, beyond the ticket, includes, amongst other things, the opportunity to “Mingle with Todd before the show.”
Cadogan Hall’s size meant that wasn’t really necessary. At the end, anyone could zip to the front to shake Rundgren's hand. Being here isn’t quite like Bruce Springsteen playing his hits in the backroom of a pub, but there is an inescapable, pinch-yourself feeling that getting so up close is akin to experiencing a garage-band version of Todd Rundgren. The venue is high-end, clean, lovely, while some of the music is not. Any rough edges are more than apparent. The bash through his Sixties' band The Nazz’s “Open my Eyes” hits hard, delivered like a slap to the face. A grunge-tinged “Black Maria” rocks. It becomes clear that mixing-in Prince’s drums for the live sound in so small a hall is difficult. He hits hard, plays loud. Even with no microphones, he would dominate. There were odd moments when he didn’t quite gel with the rest of what was being heard.
No matter, this was everything it could have been: everything any fan imagined it could be. The most wayward moment is the a cappella, folk-styled “Honest Work,” ending the acoustic-slanted opening section of the evening’s second set. In contrast, it all begins with “Evrybody,” with its exhortations to clap along. Naturally, most of this committed audience do so.
The hour-long first set skews towards the rock – American rock, that is, and sometimes stiffly – aspects of the Rundgren oeuvre. His guitar solo in a mid-set “Buffalo Grass” is blinding. Concise, yet virtuosic. Lengthy, yet to the point. Set closer “Woman’s World” is as anthemic as it could ever be.
During this first half, there are broad hints Rundgren does not see himself as an as-such rocker. Third up was “I Saw the Light.” As dreamy as ever. Strickland’s flute in “Stood up” nods towards the What’s Going On Marvin Gaye. “Lost Horizon” posits a prog-rock take on early Seventies soul. As it was at the Palladium, Motown, the soul music of his home city Philadelphia and his ties with Hall and Oates are not far. Nailing this in the second set, close to end of the evening, by-turns delicate and pleading full versions of The Impressions’ “I'm So Proud,” The Miracles’ “Ooo Baby Baby” and Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You” are strung together.
Amused by the audience shout outs, Rundgren says it is like being in The House of Commons
After this, closing the second set, his version of US new wavers The Call’s “The Walls Came Down” and his old band Utopia’s “One World” send a different message. Issued in 1982, “The Walls Came Down” is and was a weary commentary on the Cold War era from an American perspective: “ I don't think there are any Russians, And there ain't no Yanks, Just corporate criminals, Playing with tanks.” It’s obvious what “One World” is about. By ending this show with these – there is a two-song encore of The Nazz's “Hello it's me” and “Sweeter Memories” – Rundgren is apparently making a statement on the present time.
That said, he had earlier declared “I didn’t mean to get political” after commenting on his country currently being at war. Thanking those here for coming along at a time when everything is becoming more expensive thanks to the US state’s actions, he observes that “you had a head of lettuce as prime minister for a while.” Amused by the audience shout outs in this wood-panelled room, he says it is like being in The House of Commons. Rundgren is funny. Having fun too.
This is absolutely the show Todd Rundgren fans want. It is also the show that Todd Rundgren wants. No one was to be “Damned.” An absolute joy.
Comments
Todd Rundgren @Cadogan Hall 9.9.26
A very decent and fair review, Kieron. For those of us who were lucky enough to have been there, more than representative of the evening. (Comes as a welcome counter to a typically churlish and snidey write-up in the Grauniad).
A joyful evening indeed!