Take 1: It's no secret that a lot of journalists get all their info from Wikipedia. Indeed, Moving Tone News' reviewers' policy of actually attending the reviewed gigs is beginning to seem a little old-fashioned. So I put the word ‘Fish' into Wikipedia and what did I find? Well predictably, in retrospect (spot the oxymoron), there was a picture of an aquatic creature with gills and fins, so clickety-click again on ‘Fish (disambiguation)'. Now here's a list of ‘People': Albert Fish, Fred Fish, Ginger Fish, Hamilton Fish, Mardy Fish, Matt Fish, Michael Fish, Robert Fish, Simon Fish, Stanley Fish, Stuyvesant Fish. Then ‘As a nickname': ‘Fish, original singer in the British rock group Marillion.' Aha.

Take 2: Fish was one of the pop stars who appeared quite frequently in vintage editions of Viz magazine. When a Mafia sniper targeted half-fish half-goalkeeper Billy The Fish at Wembley Stadium, the headlines exclaimed ‘Fish shot dead'. Next episode revealed that the bullet had ricocheted off the post and hit the former Marillion singer, who was standing in the terraces at the time. ‘Fish - isn't his real name Derek Dick?' commented manager Tommy Brown to trainer Syd Preston. I've often - well, occasionally - wondered what Fish felt about the fictitious incident.

Take 3: When I arrived support band Stone Sole River were playing. The volume was far too loud for my poor right ear. It had only recently recovered from hearing The Damned here in December of last year. I had to rush to the loo and fill my right ear with toilet paper. Left ear had no problems with it, though.

Take 4: Even now, it's hard to consider Fish outside of the context of the extreme unfashionability of progressive rock in the 1980s. Modish critics considered it worse than Thatcher. Well, I think modish critics were and are worse than Thatcher. So it's pleasing that this fashion pariah is no frail introvert like Mike Oldfield but a belligerent Scotsman who says ‘fucking' every fourth word. In fact he could take on the entire staff of the NME circa 1984 and have them down on the floor begging for mercy in no time. Which is nice.

Take 5: You can mark your life by gigs (if you go to quite a lot of them, that is). I remember seeing Fish playing with Marillion at Bournemouth Winter Gardens in 1983. It was a good gig. Not one of the best, but good. Well, a lot of water has passed under the bridge then, so it's nice to see Fish still swimming in it. Tonight he played music which sounded like Genesis-with-a-touch-of-Van-der-Graaf-Generator, which vividly recaptured for me the feeling of hearing him play music which sounded like Genesis-with-a -touch-of -Van -der-Graaf-Generator then. So eat your heart out, Marcel Proust.

Take 6: In fact he's gone bald.

Take 7: Although the claim that he's called Fish because he drinks like one is denied, he clearly was enjoying his tipple. Hearing him banter is rather like being cornered by a loquacious local in a Scottish pub. Which is nice.

Take 8: While Fish's lyrics are poetic and philosophical, in between songs he is most concerned about Hearts beating Motherwell.

Take 9: While the musical style may seem a tad unoriginal and formulaic, it does have an enjoyable feel to it: rushes of dramatic tension amidst swirling mellifluousness. If blues can be a valid genre with an established framework, why can't prog be too? In practice you can't hear Fish's lyrics, so you can indulge in projecting your own personal drama into this grand soundscape. Well I did, anyway.

CONCLUSION: It was a good gig. Not one of the best, but good.

Writer: Rychard Carrington