Opening the evening’s entertainment on the Delain and Stone Broken bill was the truly extraordinary presence and voice of Damian Wilson. An extremely versatile singer, Wilson has performed with such bands as ArenA, Headspace and Ayreon, Rick Wakeman’s ERE and Threshold, spent two years as the lead (Valjean) in Les Misérables, and as many may have encountered him, his engaging shows (and albums) with Mr Wakeman Jr.
Damian Wilson
KK’s Steel Mill, Wolverhampton – 16 November 2024
Words: Sophie James
Photography: Jason Samuels
While waiting for the doors to open, as part of an ever-lengthening queue, one was delighted to encounter Damian working his way along the line, greeting the audience, introducing himself and shaking hands. An archetypal example of how to make friends and influence people.
Upon taking to the stage, one was in no doubt how the following 30-40 minutes would pan out as Damian immediately struck up a jovial bonhomie with the audience.
“I’ve lived in a van. I have lived on a boat, too, but it sank.”
Wilson is a consummate storyteller who not only possesses the vibe of a folk singer, but his commanding tones also project the authority of one who is equally at ease attempting to disarm a more fervent crowd.
Referencing the gentleman who used to live beneath Hammersmith flyover, Written In Anger painted a bleak retrospective. However, the later uplifting melody reinforced the positive philosophical message of “Let the last of your lines falter before they’re defined. Let the last of your words be kind.”
Those previously unfamiliar with Damian or his work were already enthralled by what their senses were tuning into.
“I’ve been playlisted on the BBC. It happened once, I doubt it will happen again.” The spirited Thrill Me came across with the same verve as its recorded sibling, notwithstanding the bare arrangement.
“I used to live in a cemetery. What I like most about them, is that they make you feel so alive.” Just one line of the elaborate prologue to When I Leave This Land, each element setting the scene so exquisitely for the song’s narrative.
During I Won’t Blame Life, Damian performed the live equivalent of ‘Parting The Red Sea’ whereby, after separating the crowd, he leapt into that void and delivered the bulk of the song.
Being positioned centrally before the rift, I just happened to be in a perfect position to witness up close the sheer unaccompanied and unassisted vocal dynamism that was filling the cavernous interior of the venue. What an experience and a joy to behold. 
“Had I been in Maiden, it may have sounded like this.” Recalling his courtship by a certain Mr Harris before he took his career in a completely different direction, Damian explained, “At the time, I thought they were old men – they were in their mid-thirties.”
He went on to perform The Evil That Men Do like you have never heard it before. To hear this so completely raw and stripped back not only demonstrated his exceptional range but also made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. True star quality.
He evoked images of his legendary Aunty Moira who would attend gigs whenever she could and invariably be down the front with her fist in the air. Damian delivered the most unforgettable line when he punctuated his tale with “Yes, 85 years old and still fisting.” Get that picture out of your head if you can.
The anthemic Homegrown provided a less demanding opportunity for audience participation than the ascending scale of the previous ‘Evil’.
“I’m sorry you’re leaving, It’s hard for us all.” The introductory passage of Seek For Adventure made for the perfect opening of the finale.
One could easily imagine oneself swaying while singing and swigging along to this in a cosy hostelry on a chilly winter’s eve.
This septuplet was all too brief but a sheer joy throughout and left a deep residual glow.
While I have documented various quotes, I know from experience that on another evening, every anecdote will be entirely different, such as his skills as a raconteur.
Every song seemed a teaser. They not only had you wanting more of the same but also imagining what the piano accompanied, full electric or even orchestral renditions would sound like.
Being in his presence is not so much about observing a performance but to be immersed and overcome by a fully inclusive experience. In whatever form he appears in your locality, I strongly urge you to sample and appreciate this vocal phenomenon.
Oh, and I haven’t even mentioned the chocolates.
