This project originated out of rejection. A true non-reflection of life if ever one existed. Once upon a time, Playboy coveted Thompson's list of "the millenium's best songs". That is, until they saw it. This list included such chart toppers as "Sumer Is Icumen In" from 1260, "King Henry V's Conquest of France" from the 15th century, "Blackleg Miner" from the 19th century, and the bizarre Nat King Cole swinger "Orange Colored Sky". Then reality inverted. One of the least curmudgeonly magazines greeted Thompson's list with an icy silence. Perhaps they felt that those musty old songs would clash with the eternal blaze of naked airbrushed youth? Unflinching, Thompson turned to an art older than some of this set's songs: Alchemy. He miraculously turned what Playboy construed as poo into gleaming bullion. This shaft truly led to gold. So much so that Thompson has hit the road with his "1000 Years of Popular Music" twice.
Music is dang old, after all. Greeks and Romans rocked out. Medieval madrigals, armed with lutes and windpipes, pranced through verdant forests. Even Victorians danced. So why relegate hundred of years of great tunes to the sadly cobwebbed "early music" section? You know what they say: old songs never die, they just receive damning new retail categories. In defiance, Thompson dipped into this neglected slush pile of human all too human music and constructed a millenium set list that would make the Long Now Foundation proud.
Flanked by vocalist/keyboardist, and part mime, Judith Owen and percussionist/vocalist Debra Dobkin, the Thompson-led trio jiggle cochleas through musical history. They open with one of humanity's oldest songs: "Sumer Is Icumen In". A celebration of the rebirth of spring, it also includes a middle english word for "fart". Now that's history. The group sing it as a round (during tour one of "1000 Years" Thompson sang it solo). Next, lone Thompson conjures up the events leading to the battle of Agincourt in a fifteenth century song. France-bashing apparently has a longer history than the 2003 U.S. Congress realized. "Freedom Toast" is nothing! Try Agincourt! This beautiful song retells the affront the French handed to the young King Henry V: three tennis balls for him to "play with". No king would take that. Henry didn't. Thompson then switches to Italian for the amazing "So Ben Mi Ca Bon Tempo". A truly unforgettable song that will even get feet encased in concrete tapping.
Following a few incredible songs dealing with infanticidal mothers, eternal punishment, and Missouri rivers, "Blackleg Miner" exposes the history of "scab" songs. Women won't even look at the Blacklegs. A nasty lot, indeed. Time whizzes by as the hilarious down-and-out "I Live in Trafalgar Square" and a Gilbert and Sullivan tune close out the nineteenth century. Don't miss the high "C" in the Mikado's "Bellow Of the Blast". Thompson and Owen show us just what vocal cords were made for. "Java Jive" introduces the jazzy twentieth century with a smooth pean to caffeinated drinks.
The twentieth century focuses on rock music, with a few exceptions. On the DVD, when Thompson introduces the act's single country song, "A-11", he responds to the unenthused stillness by saying "I can tell we're no longer in Texas". Some head turning surprises pop out in the second half of the set (on CD number two). The Kinks' haunting "See My Friends" and Australia's rollicking "Friday On My Mind" will make musical antennas erect. And then the evening's biggest blast, "Oops!... I Did it Again", made famous by Britney Spears, will shock those who disparage pop music as inane trash. Thompson proves beyond doubt that the song has merit. His final dance moves on the DVD justify the price alone. Prepare thy brain. Leaving Britney behind, the gang bursts into 2001 with "1985", a ridiculously catchy pop song about a sentimental and uncool mom. After that auditory explosion, Thompson leaves the audience hissing with the a capella "Sam Hall". The DVD's final scene shows Thompson waving his fists at the audience. A great closing to an amazing show. A thousand years later and we've arrived. That'll show Playboy.
This DVD and CD set captures the second "1000 Years" outing. Thompson's website offers a CD of the first tour. Enough changes from the two sets to justify getting both. But this set also contains a fabulously produced DVD. Thompson's stage banter gets cut from the CD, but the DVD preserves every word. Listen for the great joke about european stereotypes ("In heaven the English answer the door..."). The DVD also includes snatches of a Thompson interview, soundcheck, and the band's grand entrance. No Thompson fan should miss this set. Even people with a vague interest in music history should check it out. Thompson, now in his fifties, proves that age only encumbers the uncreative. "1000 Years of Popular Music" stands comfortably next to his best work. Not bad for a rejection.
