Do you remember when The Rolling Stones got disco? Can you recall when Bowie tried his hand at drum 'n' bass? More recently, cast your mind back a couple of months, when Stereophonics found their funk.
Now, there's no good reason why a tiger shouldn't at some stage opt for spots and, given that this life thing is chiefly about change, growth and discovery, there's also no good reason why music should be exempt from the process. But there's also such a thing as sticking to what you do well.
Cue Tim Burgess. The Charlatans' frontman carries with him no small amount of star baggage, so it's hardly surprising that - seven albums on - he might want to dump it all for a while and do a little independent travelling. Of his imminent solo album, the portentously titled 'I Believe', Burgess has claimed that he wanted "to do something that was more free than the sound of the band." Tonight's evidence suggests, however, that had Burgess gone to them with this material, his Charlies chums would likely have told him to take a long (and literal) hike.
Burgess ambles on in a straw cowboy hat - an affectation no doubt picked up in his adopted LA, which he maybe hopes passes here as wry self-awareness - acknowledges the cheers and launches straight into his debut single, 'I Believe In The Spirit'. "I believe in the West Coast," he declares, as his five-piece band chug unremarkably behind and then, "I believe in California soul," thus setting out his stall from the off. Unfortunately, Burgess also seems to believe in hokey Americana, bogus country rock and sanitised soul.
The set quickly plunges into a depressing puree of radio-friendly, hybridised rock which, rather than expressing Burgess's idiosyncratic interpretation, seems to have had all personal expression leached out of it: here, he's acknowledging The Steve Miller Band; there, Bob Dylan and Paul Simon; now Little Feat; then - dear God, what fresh hell is this - Leo Sayer. 'We All Need Love' could be a lost Oasis B-side, while 'Only A Boy' and the rousing, falsetto-pumped 'Say Yes' suggest a Dodgy revival is upon us. Sections of the show are so pedestrian a Belisha beacon is required and even the thronging faithful are barely nodding their heads.
Burgess has earned the right to frolic in Charlatans-free waters for a while, certainly, but the sound of a creditable star paddling in such pissy, reflective shallows is simply depressing.
