Gig review: Sammy Hagar at O2 Apollo Manchester
Thirty-plus years after he last mounted a tour on British shores, the ex-Van Halen frontman proves more than worth the wait with half-a-century’s worth of gold-plated hard rock.
They do say better late than never.
Thirty-plus years have passed since Sammy Hagar last mounted more than a fleeting visit to British shores - and forty-odd if you discount his tenure at the helm of Van Halen.
The veteran vocalist has spent his intervening post-millennium period crisscrossing America coast-to-coast, but time for European fans has been in particularly short supply, a drought that stretches back to Clinton and Major, the Nokia 1011 and the Nintendo 64.
His return to the O2 Apollo - previously visited by the star in 1982 - comes only after floundering sales for a larger arena run facilitated a streamlined reshuffle to a string of mid-size venues; this date amalgamates shows originally scheduled for Manchester and Leeds.
Nevertheless, there is a bustling crowd that snakes around the block to greet this comeback turn, with nary a free seat in the house; across the stalls, grey-haired punters with liver-spot pates shuffle in beery delight.
The good cheer is well-justified.
Arriving to the synth-metal swagger of Why Can’t This Be Love, Hagar and his all-star band - effectively former supergroup Chickenfoot in all but name - jam the throttle wide open and leave it duly lodged there for the best part of two hours, blasting their way through almost half-a-century of gold-plated hard rock with an infectious joy that - quite literally - blows the amplifier stacks out on-stage once or twice.
The end result likely does perforate a few eardrums, thanks to Joe Satriani’s glitterball shredding - but the pain compensates the pleasure.
At seventy-eight, Hagar may have lost a step in range, but he remains a superbly accomplished guitarist-frontman, as terrifically adept with both the hairy-chested power balladry of Love Walks In and Right Now as he is with the hard-ass boogie that gives Cabo Wabo and Mas Tequila their party-starter groove, complete with shots of the titular drink served to the audience from his own decanter.
Save for bassist Michael Anthony’s speed-freak rendition of Ain’t Talkin’ Bout Love, he barely pauses for breath; when ex-Foreigner and Hurricane singer Kelly Hansen leaps up for an electrifying I Can’t Drive 55, he appears just as in ready awe as his paying guests too.
“This was the best of all worlds!” Hagar cries at the final bow.
He’s not wrong; the wait was clearly worth it.