Show Review: Nick Lowe at the Paradise
Rock's most legendary obscurity plays a winning set



It’s hard to see your musical heroes grow old, mainly because a good deal of them don’t know how to do it gracefully. Fortunately, Nick Lowe is not only aging gracefully, he seems to be having the time of his life, and his singing, playing and songwriting are as sharp as ever.

That was the conclusion I reached Saturday night as I stepped out of Boston's Paradise Rock Club, after Nick performed for about 90 minutes to a delighted, appreciative crowd.

Nick’s name may not be altogether familiar to the average music fan, but if you’re a student of punk and power-pop from the late seventies, not knowing who he is should be a crime. Nick gained notoriety as a staff producer at Stiff Records, where a young Elvis Costello was first signed in 1977. Nick produced many of Elvis’ early albums (and subsequently had his hand in a few of the later ones, including Brutal Youth and Blood and Chocolate). In addition to Elvis, Nick produced works by the Damned, Graham Parker, the Pretenders and more.

He also found the time to write and record wonderful albums of his own, including Jesus of Cool and Labour of Lust (the latter album contained his only U.S. hit, “Cruel to be Kind”). His music was part new wave, part rockabilly with a streak of black humor. His side project with guitarist extraordinaire Dave Edmunds, Rockpile, yielded a fantastic 1981 album called Seconds of Pleasure (which was reissued earlier this year -- you should really own it).

Over the last decade or so, Nick’s quietly assumed the role of middle-aged elder statesman, playing more sedate, rootsy music with a crooner’s voice, while still keeping the black humor just under the surface. Albums like The Impossible Bird, Dig My Mood and The Convincer are hardly what you’d expect from one of punk’s premiere architects, but if you follow the trail of Nick’s career, it seems a natural transition, and one that doesn’t at all seem forced.

Opening for Nick on this tour, and accompanying him on keyboards at various times during the show was Welsh singer/multi-instrumentalist Geraint Watkins. Normally I’m not a big fan of opening acts, but Watkins was terrific. A frequent collaborator of Nick’s for the last several years, he can best be described as a combination of Van Morrison, Brian Wilson, Jerry Lee Lewis and Tom Jones. Banging away at the keyboard, Watkins conjured up zydeco, rockabilly, boogie-woogie, rhythm and blues and gospel. It’s a rare treat to have a support act who sounds great and isn’t just an excuse for the crowd to wander to the bar and restrooms. He performed mostly original material (except for his stellar version of the Beach Boys’ “Heroes and Villains”), but the songs were so good they almost sounded like standards (and his latest album, Dial “W” For Watkins, is readily available in stores if you’re interested).

Nick took to the stage with an acoustic guitar and treated the audience to a wide range of songs from his rich repertoire. Old songs were revisited (“Cruel to be Kind,” “Half a Boy and Half a Man,” “I Knew The Bride When She Used To Rock and Roll”) in addition to a few numbers from last few albums (“Lately I’ve Let Things Slide,” “Soulful Wind”). The songs often took a rollicking, upbeat turn, but Nick also dialed it down to a near whisper with gorgeous versions of “The Beast in Me” and “Lover Don’t Go,” two of his most beautiful ballads.

Nick was in a winning mood, bantering occasionally between songs about subjects such as the Paradise (which he claims to have played “267 thousand times”) as well as previous venues on the current tour (Portland’s Aladdin Theater, which he informed us was “a decommissioned porno theater”). He was completely gracious and seemed to be thrilled at the packed house.

Although not a particularly political artist, Nick did in fact end the set proper (before a couple of well-received encores) with a sublime rendition of (“What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding,” which was popularized by Elvis Costello but actually written by Nick. Accompanied by Watkins on piano, Nick’s impassioned singing (which sounds better than ever, by the way) gave the song great urgency, particularly given the current state of world affairs.

No fog machines, no lip-syncing, no Jumbo-tron TV screens, no self-centered divas. Just an incredibly talented singer/songwriter – hell, a legend – playing great music.