
My friend and our photographer, Ann and I arrived at Worthing Assembly Hall nice and early just in case the advertised start time of 7:30pm was true while not expecting, for a moment, that it would be…
Leo Sayer and his band hit the stage at 7:40pm. No support act, just straight into his first number. And what a song! ‘Giving It All Away,” originally recorded by Roger Daltrey, it became his first and highest-charting solo single back in 1973.
The Assembly Hall may be looking a little “tired,” its surroundings far from plush, but it offers great acoustics and Leo’s voice rang out clearly in the sold-out auditorium. He still displays every bit of the energy and charisma as when he first came to the public’s attention in 1973.
When the rapturous applause had subsided, Leo took a trip down memory lane. Worthing is a “must-play” venue every time he returns from Australia, where he now lives. Hailing from Shoreham-on-Sea, he reminisced about how he would sneak into the Assembly Hall without paying to watch the likes of Ray Charles, Cream and John Mayall in the 1960s.
Most of tonight’s songs were written, or co-written, by Sayer. One notable exception being “Endless Flight,” written by Andrew Gold about his grave fear of flying.
Dressed in an electric blue shirt, baggy jeans and black waistcoat, Leo retains the trademark mane that suggested his name as well as his youthful exuberance. Clearly enjoying himself, Leo bantered with the audience – his people, after all – and treated us to his fabulous harmonica playing. He’s a true master of this instrument, having played since the mid-1960s.
“Moonlighting” was honoured with a long introduction during which Leo painted a picture of the people and places, just around the corner from where we were, who inspired the song. This and “One Man Band’ which followed it, were my favourites from a quality set.
The ballad “Raining In My Heart” really showcased his voice and featured some delicious harmonica playing as well as a scrumptious guitar solo by Dave Day that garnered spontaneous applause. We were also treated to a section of call and response between the guitar and harmonica that built to a crescendo, drums and bass accelerating the speed, and Hammond-style keyboard joining in before a very tasty comedown. The crowd lapped it up.
As one would expect, all band members are extremely accomplished musicians and on top form: Elliot Henshaw on drums, Steven Reid Williams on keys and Richard Hammond on bass.
More superb harmonica playing features in the much-anticipated “When I Need You” (Ann’s favourite) before Leo let us have an interval so we could enjoy queueing to either put liquid in or let it out, or perhaps to browse the merchandise stall in the lobby (£25 t-shirts?!).
On returning, Leo had gone sparkly and had plenty more hits up the sleeve of his black jacket. “Thunder In My Heart” was quickly followed by “Have You Ever Been In Love”
His theatrical bent came to the fore in “Long Tall Glasses,” which, along with “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing,” had the audience on their feet.
Naturally, we’d all been singing along to the songs I’ve mentioned, as well as “How Much Love” and “More Than I Can Say.” Others, such as “Orchard Road” and “I Can’t Stop Loving You” invited us to sit back and enjoy the sentiments and execution of the numbers.
One thing that was notable, looking around the audience, is Leo’s wide appeal. There were people less than half my age up dancing and people my age-and-a-half singing along. Ann and I discovered that both our mothers were Leo fans, too. The audience included plenty of men, as well as the expected female contingent.
When the band bid us goodnight and departed the stage the set was incomplete the glaring omission being Leo’s first hit, “The Show Must Go On.” We obligingly stomped, hollered and clapped until they resumed their positions. Sad to say, this was my only disappointment of the night as they chose to play a slowed-down version of the song which I only recognised from the lyrics. I don’t think I was the only one who felt somewhat let down, but it was Leo’s gig and his choice. Perhaps, by the end of the evening, his voice – at age 76 – couldn’t be expected to replicate the chirpiness of the 25-year-old who first recorded it.
Still, this was a minor complaint in an evening dripping with major talent, superlative songs and an atmosphere of appreciation both from and to the stage.
Staying behind to say hello (with thanks to a lovely, efficient, lady with fabulous hair), it was gratifying to note that the first people Leo thanked, on emerging from his dressing room, were the roadies who were efficiently packing up the stage gear as he greeted them with the words “These are the real workers – thank you guys.”
Leo tours every couple of years or so. If you haven’t caught him live yet – and even if you have – it’s a highly recommended gig from a composite professional and all-round lovely bloke, even if he did abandon Sussex for Australia!