Late-ish last night, leaving the BP Pulse Arena (the NEC to you and I) in Birmingham after enjoying a stellar evening in the company of the legendary popular beat combo outfit Toto, ably supported by fellow Yacht rocker Christopher Cross, part of me wondered why neither act had won a Grammy award this year. Then it occurred to me that Cross’s run in the pop charts ended, at least in the UK, back in 1983, and had probably peaked in 1979. Toto have been a little more prolific, their last group album being Toto XIV, which by my reckoning was their 13th album, in 2015. As it was, the ‘newest’ song in the Toto setlist last night was Minefields, title track of their 1999 LP which crashed and burned, but of course turned up in my collection. For all the nostalgia involved, these cats can still play.
Only guitarist Steve Lukather of the original line-up remains, although lead singer Joseph Williams, son of legendary composer John Williams and the singing voice of Simba in the Lion King movie, can legitimately call himself part of the furniture, having been in the band for a very long time. The rest of the band changes from year to year – former Huey Lewis and the News man John Pierce is the fourth bass player I have seen with Toto on the four occasions I’ve seen them – but they are far more than mere musical journeymen. By any estimation, they are world class.
It is hard to tell whether this was the best I have ever seen Toto because they are SO good. But this was definitely the best setlist, packed with all the hits, some deep cuts including one never performed live by the band and culminating in a joyous Africa where the whole audience sang along with David Paich’s gobbledegook lyrics. Then, after one hour and fifty minutes it was all over. The house lights came on straight away and no arsing about trying to get an encore with that one unplayed song because Toto had played them all.
While the audience certainly included plenty of old codgers like myself, I was pleasantly surprised by how many women were in the crowd – rock gigs in my experience are overwhelming the province of men (or blokes, if it’s an Oasis show) – and better still, actual young people. The Spotify I so loathe and refuse to use has surely brought new generations of fans to their music. If only bands like Toto were properly rewarded for their work, I might have a less cynical view of streaming platforms. Yet this proves that despite the grim effect streaming has had on music in terms of income for artists, at least their work is out there and is hopefully encouraging streamers to live shows.
Finally, last night was a reminder to me that it’s not all about new music. As the broadcaster and writer Stuart Maconie says, “New music is only music you haven’t heard before.” Having said that, there was nothing last night from Toto that I hadn’t heard before and only a couple of ‘deep cuts’ from Christopher Cross, and frankly I didn’t care.
In terms of musicians, I was in the presence of greatness last night and whether you like Toto’s music or not – and frankly, I don’t care whether you do or not – that’s an inescapable truth.
That’s the end of my nostalgia trip, or at least it was until this morning when I discovered today that The Doobie Brothers are touring the UK this July. They have a new album to promote so I can pretend I’m not really going just to here Listen To The Music and Long Train Runnin‘. But even if I was, who gives a shit?
