Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
“Though I keep searchin’ for an answer
I never did I find what I’m lookin’ for
Ooh Lord, I pray you give me strength to carry on
‘Cause I know what it means
To walk along the lonely street of dreams”
‘Here I Go Again’ – Whitesnake
This most contemplative of evenings is one of reflections upon over five decades of a hard rocking partnership. A mellifluous coupling of two elements, those of the Storyteller and the Spirit. A pairing of fundamentals that coursed through the veins of two individuals brought together on an epic musical odyssey, one perhaps even worthy of the Greek scribes.
One the master smith of note and words the other who took those lyrics and released them from the heavens. An enduring conjunction that had stood the test of time right up until the tragic passing of one half of the alliance. Here tonight in the post-industrial setting of KK’s Steel Mill in the heart of Wolverhampton – just 15 miles up the road from where it all began at the legendary Birmingham Rum Runner Club – some 2,000 souls gather to pay tribute.

Just a couple of tracks in and a clearly emotional Bob Catley thanks the Wolverhampton crowd “All the years sticking with us through thick and thin, Tony [Clarkin] would have been proud of you” furthering, with his voice cracking and deeply etched with raw emotion “50 years of being my mate and my good friend.” If this respectful, heartfelt eulogy didn’t put a lump in the throats of all present then I’ll willingly challenge as to your composition being that of stone.

Since their inception in the early 70’s, in the beating core of the Midlands, Magnum has, throughout their career, been on the verge of commercial potency. However, criminally underrated by vast swathes that deserved higher level of success has by and large eluded them. Not that this has deterred them, quite the opposite in fact. 23 studio albums across the broad span of six decades have indelibly stamped their distinctive and evocative brand of rock forever upon the European sphere of rock.

The burning question is how to represent that vast legacy in a humble, deferential manner whilst presenting a permissive imbibing of the psyche and internal stoutheartedness whilst offering something for everyone concerned to take away with them in their own, unique personal reflection. A tall task indeed and one that in the immediate aftermath of Clarkin’s passing Catley, most understandably, was not prepared to even contemplate. In fact, an evening of this nature, let alone a tour, was out of the question.

However, with the passage of time so the fermentation of impetration began to naturally increase, and the Magnum camp began the exploration of the practicalities. Thus, with the outer husk removed the kernel of possibility and thence realisation was exposed. The fruits borne of the reflective and explorative pen of Clarkin were to take flight once more.
The hour of eight is upon us and a cowled figure, shrouded completely in black other than a mirrored metallic face mask, steps forth twixt the drum kit and keyboards. Greetings offered and over the course of the preceding two hours we are taken upon a proud peregrination through the tussles and struggles of inner feelings to the abominations of conflict and warfare via the meditations of nostalgia and the inevitable passage of time.

As the crowd offers repeated chants of, firstly, “Magnum” and then “Tony” photos of the creative nucleus pay rightful tribute. A reverential hush, the final photograph and the stage darkens and a familiar intro drone. Fighting to hold back emotions ‘How Far Jerusalem’ surges forth, the opening track and the first of five tracks lifted from 1985’s ‘On A Storyteller’s Night’. The track’s detailing of the struggles of the marginalised, the reality of social inequality and lack of charity or compassion are as stark nowadays as when they were penned. Clarkin’s fine attuned eye forever a constant, close your eyes and his presence is all around.
A highly electrifying atmosphere tangibly crackles, Catley acknowledges the massed KK’s crowd and takes and early bow. If there have been any early doors nerves, then they’ve been blown away. The guitaring of Brendon Riley entwines empathically with Rick Benton’s coruscant keyboards whilst smartly shorn bassist Dennis Ward and former Paradise Lost drummer Lee Morris have laid down a solid foundation.

Magnum’s narrative can be divided into two distinct chapters pre and post their 1995 to 2002 hiatus and we switch from the former to the latter with a hard thrusting ‘Lost On The Road To Eternity’ driving on as the ‘Wings of Heaven’ symbol embraces an orbiting moon. With the delivery of ‘When We Were Younger’ a couple of tracks later, following the high kinetics and emotional journeying of ‘Wild Swan, those in the crowd who had not ‘explored’ the setlist prior to the gig might well have been justifiably expectant of further post reformation material.
However, the band’s spotlight is turned completely towards the formative first chapter for the remainer of the gig with an exuberant acoustic despatch of ‘The Tall Ships’ taking grasp of that baton. “It’s good ‘ere innit?” quips Catley, atop his stool, swinging his legs as he takes his seat between Ward and Riley. Evocative lyrics of one of my personal favourites take me back to my hometown of Falmouth, renowned for its 150 years plus association with the Packet Ships.

Hairs raised and gooses bumped the energies continue the high atmospherics of the sparkling ‘The Flood (Red Cloud’s War)’ with Riley transferring to a roadworn Gibson SG from which he despatches a shimmering solo that heralds the pushing of the accelerator to take the tempo back upwards. Benton’s keys press into the distinctive intro of ‘Les Morts Dansant’. It’s poignant depiction of PTSD and of the shellshocked WW1 combatants taken to face the execution squad for desertion is strikingly combined with historic imagery from the battlefields.
The first of the evening’s two sets is concluded with the fine airing of ‘Don’t Wake The Lion (Too Old To Die Young)’ with its parallel anti-war sentiments regarding the destructive forces employed. I can’t recollect hearing these two tracks back-to-back before, but their respective messages and reflections work so very hand-in-hand. It’s a perfect coupling in my humblest of opinions. A stampede as the angels sleep with Catley’s echoing on point vocals highly emotional and evocative.

The post-industrial factory floors provide the perfect amphitheatre for Magnum’s very own high-grade productivity with the second set beginning as the first ended. With the soulful and reflective questioning of war and the dehumanising effect upon the armed forces ‘Soldier Of The Line’ oozes blood, sweat and tears.
With rapturous applause ringing out the precision of ‘Just Like An Arrow’ explodes with the massed ranks singing loudly and each of Riley’s six strings afire in a blistering solo. Catley, at track end, notes “That was fun, wasn’t it?” before wisecracking “I could sit on my hair back then!”

The portrayal of the effects of war in ‘Need A Lot Of Love’ follows filling the cavernous KK’s interior – there’s 40,000 square feet of former factory herein. As hands clap rapidly in time, so Benton’s strident keys see out the track, a call for unity and understanding still so truly relevant over 40 years on from the moment it slipped forth from Clarkin’s thoughts.
‘On A Storyteller’s Night’ is, as ever, a weaving of poetic lyrics and melodious riffs with strongarm vocals. “Can you tell me a story please” pleads the child’s voice in the spoken intro. One of the band’s time-tested anthems it stands tall amongst a forest of hard rocking redwoods with its sense of reassurance in dark, uncertain times. A massive reception with a brief pause to soak in the occasion before the triumph of ‘All England’s Eyes’ follows and receives similar. The cheers ring out as headlong we’re launched into ‘Vigilante’ and its pounding resonance of frustration with a broken system. It’s only now that the full extent of the relevance of Clarkin’s lyrics and how they’ve masterfully stood up to the test of time.

A highly polished ‘Kingdom Of Madness’ wraps up the second set in emphatic style. Is it seriously 48 years since this iconic track was recorded? Catley theatrically blows kisses to the Wolverhampton crowd before he and the band exit stage left. The quintet has barely entered the shadows offstage before the crowd chants begin to resonate and demand further.
There’s little to no coaxing required before Catley dedicates ‘The Spirit’ to his longtime onstage partner. “This one’s for Tony, he is with us!” adding “He was the spirit of Magnum!” There is, of course, not dissenting voice to be heard. The track, as ever, ascends majestically taking this corner of Wolverhampton with it. Riley’s scorching solo pays the ultimate tribute to Clarkin.

The downtempo of ‘When The World Comes Down’ wouldn’t normally take the closing slot but its sense of feeling of being lost and alone strikes a most resonant of chords tonight. With Clarkin’s beloved red Telecaster in hand Riley stands statuesque as the star dreaming track builds up. Soaring above golden fields it is, on this occasion, the most perfect on conclusions.
The band take a final bow before the assembled spill out into the chill Midland’s air. “We’ll see you wherever, whenever. Whatever that means” concludes Catley. Whatever that does mean one thing’s for sure Magnum have paid the perfect tribute to Clarkin their creative force and end the night on a massive high. There’s hope for further dates in my mind, after all the 40th anniversary of ‘On A Storyteller’s Night’ gets ever nearer. The Nightlight continues to burn bright, perhaps just perhaps further nights do await.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM