IQ, Mean Fiddler, 9-Dec-2006

IQ are unapologetically a prog band. Their music is all swirling Mellotrons, spectacular solos and melodramatic vocals, preferably with 9/8 time signatures. You won’t hear any of that “We’re progressive, not prog” nonsense from them.

Believe it or not I’ve never seen a full set by a proper lineup of the band; the nearest I got was a gig many years ago at the old Marquee club, after Paul Menel had left, but before Peter Nicholls had rejoined. They played most of the set as a four-piece, and Peter Nicholls joined them for the encores of “My Enemy Smacks” and “Awake and Nervous”.

The final date of IQ’s 25th anniversary tour was at the Mean Fiddler, formerly the Astoria 2, a venue threatened with demolition. I have to say I won’t really miss the place provided there’s a quality replacement; it’s a bit of a grotty dive, and the beer is terrible. But there was still a great sense of anticipation as the start time approached.

From the moment IQ hit the stage at 7:15 and launched into “Breathtaker” from ‘Subterrania’, it was clear this was going to be a superb gig; a tremendously tight and impassioned performance with a crystal clear sound. For the next two and a half hours IQ stormed through a setlist covering their whole 25 year career, from “Sacred Sound” from the recent ‘Dark Matter’ to spectacular set closer “My Enemy Smacks” from their 1983 debut. They even played a couple of songs from the Paul Menel era.

They’re not just a bunch of anonymous musos letting the music speak for them; they put on a show as well. Guitarist Mike Holmes spent the entire show sporting a gigantic pair of angel wings, while the most animated had to be bassist Jon Jowett, leaping around as if he was in a punk band, while reeling off some incredible basslines at the same time. Martin Orford’s keys are a major element of their sound; from the biggest mountain of keyboards I’ve seen since Iain Jennings left Mostly Autumn he produced big washes of Mellotron and plenty of ornate moog solos. He even had Mike Holmes playing air keyboards at one point. Peter Nicholls kept the Gabrielesque theatrics to a minimum, but was an entertaining frontman nevertheless, with his comments about bootlegs (“This will be the last song on the first disk”).

Keeping with their long-standing tradition of playing bizarre encores, the first one was a cover of The Sex Pistols hit “God Save the Queen” (I’m sure there were no keyboard on the original!) leading into their own reggae song “Barbell is In”. The came back not once but twice more, finishing with an “Awake and Nervous” that included a verse of Status Quo’s “Caroline”.

I’m not going to leave it another twenty years before seeing them again.