Gig review: Rick Astley at First Direct Bank Arena, Leeds
With no fresh record to tout, the one-time Eighties pin-up offers reflection upon a three-act career with down-to-earth affability across a genial crowdpleaser romp.
“I’ll let you know now Leeds, we play Never Gonna Give You Up right at the end,” Rick Astley informs the First Direct Bank Arena a handful of songs into his latest visit. Quiff coiffeured with low-key elan, guitar strapped to his midriff, he peers over the microphone with the full panto delivery. “So if you’ve booked an Uber, now’s the time to reschedule.”
The past few years have been relatively sedate for the onetime Eighties pin-up, at least by those standards set in the wake of his late-era cultural revival.
Having last made a steady jaunt across the nation’s enormo-dome venues in early 2024 behind then-latest effort Are We There Yet?, he returns with no fresh record to tout; instead, he offers his reflections upon a three-act career arc that might be considered sincerely charmed.
By now, with festival-favourite experience aplenty beneath his belt, Astley’s instincts as a natural crowdpleaser are duly honed to absurdly sharp levels, albeit still tempered by a down-to-earth affability that prevents such showmanship from feeling remotely surgical.
By the same measure, those that anticipate any major deviation from the tried-and-tested rhythm of his live shows will only locate familiar ground here; SAW-brass throwbacks and burnished soul-pop peppered with classic and contemporary covers, offered with cheery seaside-postcard delight.
That being said, there are some surprising deviations amidst the anticipated synthpop flourishes of Together Forever and She Wants to Dance With Me. Opener Lights Out canvasses heartland rock propulsion with impressive vigour, a trick repeated by new single Raindrops, replete with a power-pop surge that recalls Brandon Flowers.
Move Right Out, from 1991’s lesser-loved Free, is given rare airtime, as is You Move Me, a song the star was led to believe featured in the film Cocktail by producer Pete Waterman, only to be discarded as trailer insert music.
It makes for a selection that further reconfigures parts of Astley’s oeuvre that many may contest as the wilderness years to a point, even as he drums and strums his way through takes on Raye and Roy Orbison.
Still, the lid on his obvious ubiquity must eventually break with a gleeful twist; by the time he swans across the stage, brimmed martini glass in hand, before a climactic Never Gonna Give You Up, he has already delivered the goods. “Anybody waiting on that Uber?” he cries. Nobody is heading for a premature exit at this genial romp.