Like musical cicadas re-emerging after nearly two decades, British progressive rock collective Big Big Train returned to the live stage in 2015. During its lengthy studio hibernation, the band had evolved from a somewhat obscure, locally gigging quintet into one of the premier prog acts of its era, now featuring a core lineup of eight, with its orchestrally-inclined arrangements often adding brass and\/or strings on top of that. <\/p>\n
A Stone\u2019s Throw From The Line<\/i> collects highlights from the band\u2019s August 2015 weekend residency at Kings Place, London, serving as a summation of the seven years, four albums, and two EPs gone by since co-founders Greg Spawton (bass) and Andy Poole (keys\/guitar) were joined by first Nick D\u2019Virgilio (drums, ex-Spock\u2019s Beard), David Longdon (lead vocals\/flute\/banjo), and Dave Gregory (guitar, ex-XTC), and then Danny Manners (keys), Rachel Hall (violin), and Rikard Sk\u00f6blom (guitar\/keys, ex-Beardfish). But it also makes an essential statement: as challenging as this multilayered music is to assemble in the studio, we can also play it live on stage.<\/p>\n
Doing so requires not just the full eight-person core lineup, but a five-man brass section tucked away in the gallery, since they wouldn\u2019t fit on the venue\u2019s relatively modest stage. Still, one of the biggest issues Big Big Train had to tackle in order to play these songs live is the complexity of the vocal arrangements. In a number of cases the studio recordings feature a multi-tracked Longdon singing his own harmony vocals; that means that live, while the players are in the midst of navigating a variety of complicated parts, shifting time signatures, and sharp turns between different sections of the songs, they also have to sing those complex harmonies. It\u2019s a world-class musical challenge; fortunately these are world-class players, every one.<\/p>\n
The evening opens as it should, with the concise, anthemic single \u201cMake Some Noise,\u201d whose bounding rhythms propel the poppiest tune this lineup has ever recorded. Some of the group\u2019s more progressive-minded fans aren\u2019t entirely sure about this track, but it has undeniable punch and appeal, with concise, jabbing solos instead of long, winding ones. We quickly segue into \u201cThe First Rebreather,\u201d thrumming and swerving through its heroic narrative before moving on to an even bigger challenge: the epic 22-plus-minute title track from the group\u2019s superb 2009 album The Underfall Yard<\/i>. It\u2019s as the assembled players traverse their intricate parts while simultaneously chanting a ringing, intense refrain of \u201cFar skies, deep time\u201d that I first find myself thoroughly lost in this beguiling music. <\/p>\n
As the setlist progresses, there are several notably clever adaptations for the stage\u2014for example, studio guest Jem Godfrey\u2019s zippy but somewhat uncharacteristic synth solos from the studio version of \u201cThe Underfall Yard\u201d have been translated into a guitar solo and a violin solo, respectively\u2014but what makes this album such a special addition to the BBT catalogue is the interaction with the live audience. The handclaps propelling \u201cUncle Jack\u201d are at least as spot-on as the vocal harmonies, whose density and complexity is nearly impossible to recreate live; this version might not be as crisp and perfect as the studio recording, but it\u2019s perhaps even more charming for its imperfections; it takes nerve to even try to pull these songs off live, and the audience lifts the band up with its enthusiastic support for their efforts. <\/p>\n
Closing out the first set, \u201cVictorian Brickwork,\u201d Spawton\u2019s 12-minute elegy for his father, is performed with all the billowing emotion it should be, its horn section-over-organ fanfare achingly beautiful as Gregory re-enters, driving toward the song\u2019s crescendo. The gentle outro has just begun to fade into stillness when the crowd erupts in damp-eyed applause.<\/p>\n