Al Stewart: Troubadour Ensconced in History’s Lap

Al Stewart and his super-competent backing band, The Empty Pockets, made their first appearance at Port Washington’s Landmark on Main Street in October 2023.

It was Al Stewart's literary tendencies I thought to highlight after seeing Al Stewart last month at Landmark on Main Street. But world affairs – in Ukraine, Israel, Gaza, Sudan, Afghanistan – intrude. These events, at once tragic, complex and far-reaching, challenge even the most distant observer to understand how we got here. History provides clues, but few unassailable answers. This may frustrate some readers, but it will give the keen observer lots to talk about. For the capable lyricist, it’s the perfect antidote to writer’s block.

Al Stewart, whose catalog includes many songs with highly particular historical references, will have you opening Wikipedia. To World War II (“Laughing into 1939”), to Charles of Sweden c. 1709 (“Coldest Winter”), to King Louis XIV (“Palace of Versailles”) and, from this evening’s encore, “Like William McKinley.” The ask is earnest, though, as Stewart reminded the Jeanne Rimsky audience, the songwriters’ license to yield to the temptations of metaphor.

As if to make the point, he begins his set with the “Sirens of Titan,” a reference to the second novel by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. of the same name. “Sirens” is a light Vonnegut endeavor tackling “issues of free will, omniscience, and the overall purpose of human history” according to the Wikipedia summary. In Stewart’s telling, ultimately disappointing: “I thought I came to this earth / Living in the heart of the moment / With the riches I gained at my birth.”

It wasn’t on the setlist, but Stewart and The Empty Pockets accepted the challenge of performing “Dark and Rolling Seam,” perhaps applied to some inflection point in his own career:

So you paid no mind to the warning signs
As you gave your words so free
Don't change your tack when the timbers crack
On the dark and rolling sea

From the planned setlist, the sobering “Palace of Versailles” where

The ghost of revolution
Still prowls the Paris streets
Down all the restless centuries
It wonders incomplete

Offered as a somewhat daring encore, consider what is probably the only song ever written to invoke a memory of William McKinley. Stewart ask the listener to pause:

I’ll sit on my porch like William McKinley
And I’ll let the world come to me
And if it’s too busy, I really don't mind and
There’s no place I’ll want to be

The touring musician’s life, Stewart tells his audience, is “mostly traveling and laundry. But you don’t want to know that.” Instead, he offers “Broadway Hotel,” a not-so-straightforward seduction song. (As Darkviolin, it’s my duty to recommend the original recording’s excellent violin solo work).

You're seeking a hideaway
Where the light of day
Doesn't touch your face
And a door sign keeps the world away
Behind the shades
Of your silent day.

In "Antarctica," we learn that it’s not about “the hopeless quest of Shackleton” or “the dreamlike death of Scott” at all. Rather it’s the observer who’s transformed:

And maybe I was snow-blind
Perhaps it sapped my will
But something of my innocence
Is wandering there still
In Antarctica

Elliott Scazarro covered the flute part in the original arrangement of “Antarctica” (as with most of the sax parts).

“Night train to Munich,” a personal favorite, was sadly not on the evening’s itinerary, but “Year of the Cat” was dutifully given a full and generous arrangement by Stewart and the Pockets. (There was no skimping on the sax solos. Credit one Elliot Scozzaro. )

The evening would hardly be complete without another crowd-pleaser, “Time Passages.” (Especially considering this audience included not a few generational cohorts for whom the “Years go [surely] falling in the fading light.”) Right from its telltale organ opening, the original “Passages” is highly orchestrated. The arrangement of the 1978 song co-written by Peter White is quite rich; listeners at the time were rewarded not only with the soaring sax of his other Alan Parsons hits from that era (“On the Border” and “Song on the Radio”) but a short acoustic guitar solo from White, harpsichord, guitar and much more. The result can be daunting for Stewart’s live performances, especially the lighter treatment given when he tours with occasional guitarist and co-star Dave Nachmanoff. No problem tonight; the song was given a fine rendering by the Pockets. Effective keyboard fills, and satisfying guitar and sax parts served as hands moving on this well-worn musical clock of a song.

The evening’s highlight for this reviewer was the much-loved “On the Border.”

The spirit of the century
Telling us that we're all standing on the border

Josh Solomon covered the Peter White, flamenco-inspired guitar parts. No doubt all the notes were there, but the excellent bass part wasn’t prominent enough from our balcony sweet spot. Solomon could probably have covered much of “End of the Day,” another Peter White collaboration, but when asked to play it on this occasion sans White, Stewart demurred.

He might have been thinking of his longtime collaborator when he wrote:

They live their lives in some familiar spell
And catch each other when they fall

The Enduring Search Result

Al Stewart, to be sure, has a healthy Wikipedia page. It’s regularly edited, and probably regularly visited, too. But apparent only to Wikipedians and folk rock informaticists will be the extent to which this particular troubadour has woven his lyrics through people and places Stewart decided we must remember. Of Edward Lear in Stewart's 2005 “Mr. Lear” he wrote:

. . . if you should find him
His world is dancing close behind him

His world, for the price of a few dozen songs, our world. Each song a lamp peering through shifting dust of human history.

An Earful of Empty Pockets

The opening act, which served Al Stewart’s backup band once they were finished, showcased several tunes from their successful album “Gotta Find the Moon.” The local audience greeted these enthusiastically, but this reviewer’s preference was for the band's version of the Beatles classic “Oh! Darlin’.” Not my favorite Beatles song; at the time I worried that Paul’s voice was going south. (It seems I got that wrong). The version offered by the Empty Pockets featured Rika Brett on vocals, and I found it far more enjoyable than the original.

Empty Pockets ensemble consists of Josh Solomon on guitar, keyboards and vocals, Ms. Brett on vocals and keyboard, Nate Bellon on bass and Adam Belasco on drums. A towering Elliot Scozarro dropped in to add flute and sax color.