Soft Machine review at Exeter Phoenix

It isn’t just the long grey hair and impressive beards sported by many of the audience – there’s something expectant and excited in the convivial seriousness of the pre-show crowd that makes it clear we are in for something very special. This is an audience who are ‘in the know’ and they are here for some proper music. For the next two and a half hours, that is exactly what we are treated to.

Since its creation as a trio in 1966, Soft Machine has pioneered psychedelic, progressive, and jazz-rock. Evolving through various incarnations and line-ups (31 different musicians over the years), the one constant from 1975 to now is guitar genius John Etheridge.

The guys come on in their summer shirts and shorts, and pile straight into a richly mellifluous piece (Open Road) with soaring saxophone sounds and some very decisive drumming. Moving into the complexities of Lemon Poem Song, illuminated by some fantastic lighting (courtesy of Ally), we transcend Exeter and travel through time and space. Both openers are off their most recent album – Thirteen.

On Seven Hours, the guitars are layered and immense, lead and bass deep in dialogue. Fred Baker’s bass playing is extraordinary – it sounds almost like he is using a bow on the strings, and he releases harmonics with lightness and subtlety. Who needs lyrics? Theo Travis is now on flute rather than sax, and I am wondering to myself if they have ever scored films – the vibe is so cinematographic. Back with the sax we move into a lushly romantic space then finish tightly. Blimey!

Over the course of the evening we hear every instrument stretched in new and wonderfully old school ways. It’s a joy to observe the subtle communication between musicians at the height of their powers, able to move from apparently free-form jazz to tight lyricism with accomplished ease. From Hendrix licks to multiple chord changes and hectic montages,

this is jazz and rock, nuance and complexity. We can hear Pink Floyd at times – the two bands grew up together – and there’s even a catchy riff in the first single they released in the States: Joy of a Toy, 1968.

Etheridge’s anecdotes and jokes are offered in the same relaxed style as his guitar playing: we feel like he is enjoying himself as much as we all are, and we love hearing asides about Jeff Beck and Clapton, Grappelli and Robert Wyatt.

The encore of Backwards and Noisette brings the same luscious range of solos and partnerships – a lovely lyrical section in Backwards puts the high notes of the flute and the depth and musicality of the bass guitar in wonderful mirrored harmony, before we launch into the jazziness of Noisette.

None of us head home from the Exeter Phoenix humming tunes from the evening, but all of us leave knowing that we have been in the presence of greatness. Long may Soft Machine continue to make their music.