The Waterboys' conceptual take on Hopper

Touring again: Mike Scott, left, leads The Waterboys onstage during the opening night of their 2025 tour.

It promised to be a show with an unusual concept, and so it proved as The Waterboys opened their 2025 tour before a near-capacity audience at Basingstoke's Anvil venue.

Amongst those on stage was Mike Scott, the band's founding and sole ever-present member. It is said that since forming in 1983, The Waterboys have had more personnel than any other group, with the tally of past and present members now hovering north of seventy. The current five-piece unit have been together for a good number of years and it showed in the tightness of their performance. 

A Pagan Place, the titular song of the group's 1984 second album, was their opening gambit as they ignited the evening with a string of back catalogue gems. A powerful rendition of Glastonbury Song soon followed as they hit their stride. Album track How Long Will I Love You - a cover of which was a major hit for Ellie Golding - proved to be another audience pleaser.

As the evening unfolded it became clear the set was divided into three phases. The opening and closing featured career highlights, while the middle section delved into songs from the newly released and somewhat concept album Life, Death and Dennis Hopper. This celebration of the late actor echoes the treatment given to WB Yeats in 2011, when the band paid homage to the Irish poet with an album and tour.

So why now Hopper? Scott explained that the actor's life and career was tightly interwoven with cultural turning points in the second half of the twentieth century - from appearing alongside James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause and Giant, to directing and co-starring in the counter-culture movie Easy Rider. Also, it allowed a dive into a rich tapestry of Americana including Hopper's friendship with pop culture artist Andy Warhol, and his eight-day marriage to Michelle Phillips, of The Mamas & Papas. One of the night's songs was a ballad to Ms Phillips.

The Hopper section of the concert featured contributions from Barney Fletcher, the youthful guest backing singer who appears on the Sun Records-released album and adds strikingly unusual - and somewhat otherworldly - vocals. Also augmenting the core line-up on a few songs was support act Zervas & Pepper. 

Among the Hopper album tracks played were Hopper's On Top (Genius), Golf They Say, Andy (A Guy Like You) and the best of the new crop of tunes I Don't Know How I Made It.

A towering back screen behind the band was occasionally illuminated with video clips and photographs of Hopper, adding to the conceptual mood. One video showed Steve Earle singing Kansas, the album's opening track co-written by Earle and Scott.

Other notable guests on the album include Bruce Springsteen and Fiona Apple. Springsteen's contribution was on the song Ten Years Gone, which was played during the evening - alas, without an appearance by The Boss.

When the Hopper segment ended it was followed by further tunes from The Waterboys' past, with a clear leaning in to the 1985 album This Is The Sea, possibly to mark its 40th anniversary, but maybe also as a tip of the hat to former band member Karl Wallinger who died last year. That album's Scott-Wallinger composition Don't Bang The Drum, along with Medicine Bow, The Whole of the Moon, and The Pan Within were all performed. On the latter, the duelling keyboards of Brother Paul (Brown) and James Hallawell provided one of the evening's memorable moments.

Having already played the band's most famous tune The Whole of the Moon, it was the group's other signature song, Fisherman's Blues, that rounded off the encore to leave the audience happy as they departed.

In Basingstoke, on the opening night of a lengthy tour with many sold out gigs ahead, The Waterboys showed how they are continuing to push frontiers on their musical journey.

End of the evening: The Waterboys react to the cheers of the audience at the Anvil in Basingstoke

Karl Wallenger's masterful musical journey

Outstanding talent: Karl Wallenger on stage with The Waterboys in Leicester on October 11, 1985. This was his penultimate appearance with the group in the UK before he left to form his own band World Party.

Karl Wallenger, a remarkable musician and a standout talent of the past 40 years, has died at 66.

As an early member of The Waterboys he was part of the trio - alongside founder Mike Scott and Anthony Thistlewaite - responsible for the band's epic opus This is The Sea. The 1985 album contained the ageless The Whole of The Moon.

A music paper article that year stirred my interest in the up-coming but relatively little-known group. The writer commented on the possibility that Scott and Wallenger might be the Lennon-McCartney of the 1980s. I bought This is The Sea and the single The Whole of The Moon. 

Despite The Whole of The Moon becoming a radio staple and regarded as one of the defining tracks of the decade, on its initial release it stalled at No.25 in the UK charts. This was possibly due to the group's refusal to mime to the track on Top of The Pops. (The song became a major success when re-released in 1991 after it was used on a TV advert).

In October 1985, I forked out £2.50 to see the group at Leicester Polytechnic. I wasn't disappointed. The energy and musicianship was unquestionable. The venue was jumping and I'd taken along my first SLR camera to capture the scene, holding it aloft - like the crazy photographer in Apocalypse Now - to take ambient-lit shots above the heads of the jostling, swaying audience.

On stage were Scott, Thistlewaite (Leicestershire-born, so a local lad) and Wallenger. They were augmented by fiddle player Steve Wickham who, alongside Scott, became a mainstay of the group for most of the subsequent four decades. Wallenger certainly looked the part wearing coloured Lennon-esque grandad glasses. His backing vocals and keyboard talent were clear; listen to the latter stages of The Whole of The Moon to appreciate the impact his synth bass has on the crescendoing classic.

But even in the excitement of that gig Wallenger seemed distracted in the moment, in a way that the others in the group weren't. Although not known at the time, it was to be his last but one UK appearance with The Waterboys. He departed the group before the tour concluded.

The reason for the split, reportedly, was Wallenger's realisation that his musical ambition would bring him into conflict with the group's leader Scott. So much then for that hint at a Lennon-McCartney styled partnership. But would Scott and Wallenger fade without the input of the other, or would one emerge as the leading talent? 

Initially, I kept my eyes on both, buying Wallenger's first post-Waterboys record, the single Ship of Fools. It was a stunner. He'd formed the group World Party (incidentally, the same name as a song on the album This is The Sea). Ship of Fools was a poppy but poignant lament at the state of the world; a song that rings as true today as it did in the mid-80s.

It became apparent that Wallenger had a striking ability to craft meaningful lyrics and pare them with winningly harmonious pop music; music that leant towards joyfulness. That was the case with the track Put the Message in the Box, a song I defy anyone to listen to and not feel their mood lift.

As things turned out, I tracked the musical output of The Waterboys more closely than World Party. In the wake of losing Wallenger, The Waterboys' musical direction shifted to create the folk-orientated masterpiece albums Fisherman's Blues and Room To Roam. Experimentation with other sounds and genres have kept them sounding fresh to this day.

Meanwhile, Wallenger's musical furrow with World Party brought a string of successful albums and a top 20 single. He also worked with Sinead O'Conner. A cover version of the Wallenger-penned She's The One was taken to number one by Robbie Williams.

In 2001, Wallenger suffered a brain aneurysm. However, he returned to making music and performing five years later.

The collaboration of Wallenger and Scott on two Waterboys albums gave a tantalising glimpse of what might have been had they formed a lasting working partnership. However, their separate paths mean we have two distinct and very rich musical careers to enjoy.

Reacting to the passing of Wallenger, Scott posted the following on X: "Travel well my old friend. You are one of the finest musicians I've ever known."

Love the song #2: Galway Girl

This is the second in an occasional series where I highlight a song that particularly inspires, uplifts or simply grabs me.

When it comes to an uplifting song, this version of Galway Girl, by Mundy with Sharon Shannon, takes some beating. From the first note to the last it has an infectious joy that touches the soul. Mundy's soaring vocals and mandolin playing are faultless. With the smiling Sharon Shannon, one of the most accomplished accordion players in the world, also on stage and driving the melody, you can't help but wish this performance would last forever.

The party atmosphere of the audience further enhances the life-affirming essence of the song, as does the stage full of performers and guests. And if you look closely, you'll catch a glimpse of Glen Hansard, singer with The Frames and star of the film Once, adding backing vocals.

Shannon was once a member of The Waterboys, playing on the 1990 album Room to Roam before enjoying considerable success as a solo artist. Her wonderful, instrumental debut album, Sharon Shannon, was released in 1991 and is the biggest-selling album of traditional Irish folk music.

As one commentator noted, this performance of Galway Girl should be essential daily viewing as it lifts the heart and the spirit.

A long strange golden road

Mike Scott/The Waterboys in Leicester, 1985

In the pictures above and right Mike Scott of The Waterboys looks out from the stage at Leicester Polytechnic, in the English Midlands. I took these photos one freezing night in November 1985. I was still a teenager and this was the first time I'd seen The Waterboys live.

Energy and passion emanated from the stage and contagiously filled the concert hall and I, like Dennis Hopper's hyper-active photographer in the movie Apocalypse Now, stood in the swirling, moving sea of the audience, sporadically lifting my second-hand Minolta camera above head height hoping to capture some of the magic.
In those pre-digital days there was a finite number of pictures that could be taken. The roll of film in the camera had 24 exposures and no more. Every click of the shutter had to count.

There was exceptionally fast film in the camera - 1600asa - allowing pictures to be taken without a flash in order to capture the ambient illumination of the stage lights, and fast enough to avoid too much blurring. It was an experiment that resulted in an interesting set of photos of The Waterboys on the cusp of becoming a recognised name in the music world. They had just released the single The Whole of The Moon, a beautiful career-defining anthem. However, it stalled at a lowly No.25 in the charts that month. It would be another six years before the song was re-released and hit the top three.

Emerging from the concert I was faced with a chilly winter's night and no prospect of getting home, which was 17 miles away, until early the next morning when the bus service resumed. With my camera stowed away under my coat I found shelter for the night, escaping from the biting wind chill by huddling inside a telephone box - the old red ones made from iron.

It seems crazy now, but back then sleeping rough all night in a telephone box in the middle of winter was, for me, part of the adventure of being young and carefree.

During the past three decades it has been a delight to follow the progress of Mike Scott and The Waterboys as he, and they, have created songs that have stood the test of time even as the band has remained largely out of the mainstream. Fisherman's Blues, another of their songs to barely dent the charts, is now almost as equally famed as The Whole Of The Moon. And a generation after it was written, a version of the band's ballad How Long Will I Love You featured in the film About Time and became a major hit for Ellie Goulding.

'Roughing it' to see The Waterboys is not confined to the dim and distant past. For as recently as 2009, Heather and I nodded off in a rental car near a field where the band were due to headline in a big top tent at the end of a one-day music festival. It was on the outskirts of Skibbereen, in southern Ireland. As night fell we made our way to the big top and were rewarded with the band finally taking to the stage, much delayed, at around the midnight hour (or just after). It was a memorable show, and it was a starry summer's night that greeted us as we wandered back from the tent at 2.30am.
In the bright moonlight some folk departing the big top still had energy to spare and headed for the children's playground to have a go on the swings.

It was at Skibbereen that I first heard The Waterboys perform a song about a "long strange golden road". I was familiar with almost everything they had recorded, but I'd never heard this song before. Its catchy chorus stayed with me for many months.

I wanted to hear the song again, but I would have to wait. For the next few years The Waterboys devoted their time to creating and promoting An Appointment With Mr Yeats, a mesmorising album of WB Yeats' poems turned into songs.

So it was a delight to discover that Long Strange Golden Road features on the band's just released album Modern Blues. And the vibrant, energetic song is one of their best. I look forward to catching the band live again, some 30 years after that freezing night in Leicester - but this time I intend to give the night out in the telephone box a miss!

Here is Long Strange Golden Road, as uploaded by the band.

Hey director, leave those films alone

They're great movies. Classics of their era. So why did the directors who made these masterpieces decide to tweak and alter them 20 or 30 years later?

If the changes had made the movies better I'd understand, but in the case of the original 'Star Wars' trilogy and the gritty, 1979 cut of 'The Warriors', the subsequent re-imaging has resulted in far inferior viewing experiences.

I have great admiration for both George Lucas ('Star Wars'), pictured below, and Walter Hill ('The Warriors'), two exceptional talents. But I'm mystified by their motivation for tinkering with some of their best work to make director's cuts that are best consigned to the nearest trash can in favour of the originals.

Many others have commented on these director's cut, take a look around on the internet and YouTube to see what has been said. In the case of the original 'Star Wars' trilogy the changes are mostly computer generated animations splashed across the screen that alter the tone of the movies and, quite frankly, clutter up the clarity of the stories. With Hill's director's cut of 'The Warriors' the inclusion of cartoon-cutsy transitions between scenes completely jars with the compelling realism and darkness of the 1979 version.

Sure, there is a place for revisiting creative works and improving upon them. My favourite poet William Butler Yeats did so with great success, and the evolution of the song 'Saints and Angels' by the music group The Waterboys, from its mid-1980s original to its early 2000s incarnation, with notably developed lyrics, are testament to how artistic works can rise to a new level when reworked by their original creators.

Returning to movies I would add Ridley Scott's director's cut of 'Blade Runner' to the list of artistic works enhanced by a slight re-imaging.

The big danger comes when the re-working is done on a creative work that has already proven to be massively popular in its original format. Anyone who tinkers with such is doing so at great peril.

Of course, you pays your money and you takes your choice. Except in the case of 'Star Wars' and 'The Warriors' you can't. If Lucas and Hill are saying, 'Hey, this is what I intended the movie to be originally' and leave the viewer with the option of watching the original or their re-worked alternative, then fine. Alas, that is not the case. It is practically impossible to lay your hands on unaltered versions of the original 'Star Wars' trilogy, likewise copies of the 1979 original of 'The Warriors' are no longer produced, having been superseded by the director's cut. Both directors have taken a deliberate and strong line, arguing that their director's cuts are the definitive versions and the originals should be removed permanently from public consumption.

The first 'Star Wars' movie, released in 1977, is unquestionably one of the biggest landmark cinematic releases of the 20th century. Yet today the public are unable to purchase or view this iconic film in its original, un-tweaked glory.

Similarly, if you want to see 'The Warriors' as it appeared in 1979 you'll have to scour second-hand shops or online sales sites to get one of the pre-director's cut releases. It's becoming scarcer, but it's worth the effort.

So what can be done? Ultimately, it boils down to a simple request. To slightly misquote the lyrics of a Pink Floyd song, 'Hey director, leave those films alone'.