How Jean Michel Jarre changed my life (Part #2)
With Magnetic Fields and Zoolook under my belt, I felt able to press on and grab the rest of the back catalogue. Rendez-vous followed shortly after, and as I was always a bit of a space cadet (literally and figuratively), the spacefaring theme of the album really captured my imagination. It's still one of my Jarre favourites, a perfect marriage between electronic music, classical, and a wee bit of bluesy jazz. Not many albums have such a perfect ending as Rendez-vous: the tinkling background of electronica, so evocative of a sky full of stars, the world-weary sax part and the beautifully choreographed thudding heartbeat that underpins the whole thing. It's incredibly beautiful - so at odds stylistically with the rest of the album, but somehow it fits perfectly, and I can't imagine the album ending any differently.
I picked up Oxygene next, marvelling at what an essentially one-man project had managed to achieve using tricky analogue equipment and recording at home long before technology had evolved to make it easy. The Concerts In China came next, followed by my own genuine copy of Cities In Concert (even back then, I had a fairly evolved attitude towards owning 'proper' copies of things if I really enjoyed them - something that I was teased about for some time by some of my friends, who didn't understand that sales funded further gigs & new music by the artists in question.), leaving me to complete my collection of Jarre's 'official' albums by picking up Equinoxe in the Spring of 1988. In many ways I felt I'd saved the best for last: Equinoxe and Zoolook have been my favourite Jarre albums since the first time I heard them.
By now, news was filtering through that Jarre was about to release another new album, entitled Revolutions. Not only that, but - and this news filled me and my mate Ian with desperate excitement - Jarre was planning on promoting the album by playing one of his extravagant outdoor shows in the UK, in London's Docklands area, which was being 'renewed' by a huge injection of government cash. Ian and I solemnly swore that there was no power on God's green Earth that could make us miss this show. It was meant to be.
Imagine our excitement as the weeks wore on, and more details of the show were announced. There would be not one but TWO shows - sadly, as pocket money dependent schoolkids we would only be able to make the one show, on a grander scale than ever before. More fireworks! More lasers! And the now-immortal laser harp... Tickets went on sale that summer. Ian and I worked together to book tickets via the Stratford Ticket Shop, which helpfully would provide us with transport from the centre of Evesham right to London's Docklands, and back again. All we had to do was get up in time and save up some cash for the inevitable merchandise and a few hot dogs.
However, as some of you may remember, the staging of the Docklands shows (referred to as the "Destination Docklands" project once the tickets went on sale) was fraught with legal problems. Newham council, who were responsible for the Docklands area, were terrified by the long list of concerns their health & safety and logistics officers had drawn up, and even though he and his large team had been busily building and preparing for the shows on the Docklands site for months, Jarre was denied permission to stage the concerts. Bitterly disappointed - and also out of pocket as sponsors started panicking and pulling out - Jarre pulled a masterstroke and started a UK-based PR blitz that saw him appearing on dozens of TV and radio shows, explaining how special the shows were likely to be and appealing to the public to help him get the permission he needed to get the shows to go ahead. Now, if there's one thing guaranteed to motivate the British public and get them on your side, it's moaning about the government (local or otherwise) and raging against red tape and bureaucracy. Faced with Jarre's growing army of supporters - some of them in government and/or showbiz themselves - Newham council's opposition crumbled, and with only a few weeks to spare, Jarre was given the permission he needed to stage the concerts.
This was all a bit worrying to me (and to Ian, I imagine) - to have the chance to see a show like this on British soil and then to have the possibility snatched away was depressing to put it mildly. I remember actually calling Radio 1 during an interview with Jean Michel to pledge my support and reassure him that we weren't all such killjoys as the numpties at Newham council, and I waited in a queue of similar callers but never got the opportunity to talk to him - the queue was lengthy and Jarre had to shoot off to yet another round of media appearances.
However, the day arrived - Saturday, October 8th, 1988. I can't speak for Ian, but I was up at stupid o'clock and so full of beans that I could probably have run down the M1 alongside the bus without falling behind. I had already gone to a handful of shows (All About Eve and Marillion, plus a couple of others with my mum), but this was my first really large outdoor show. The trip down passed without incident, and Ian and I were jiggling in our seats like we had ADHD. Once we got to Docklands, we were able to disembark from the bus and head straight into the site, which was open already to sell merchandise, food and drink whilst the frantic crew crawled over the site, clearly anxious about something. After talking to a handful of people on site - fans and crew alike - we became aware that that night's show faced some rather major technical issues. The British weather had turned against Jarre and his plans in a big way the previous night, and torrential rain and high winds had partially destroyed the PA system and wrecked a sizeable amount of equipment. Jarre's enormous floating stage, moored on the Thames in the centre of the site, was waterlogged. Since it (and much of the rest of the site) was riddled with electrical wiring and huge firework repositories, there was a great deal of angst. Slightly concerned - even more so as some further drizzle had decided to arrive - we grabbed some food from one of the burger vans, and sat on the bottom tier of the seating at the rear of the site and watched, transfixed, as the crew scurried around like ants. We saw enormous cranes swinging glitterballs and enormous skytracker lights into position, the PA stacks being carefully tested and partially replaced, all kinds of equipment being repaired in situ, or being wrapped in tarpaulin until they could be tested or replaced. We even managed to see Jarre's laser harp being carefully prepared - mirrors positioned on the stage to shoot the harp's green beams over the heads of the audience had come adrift from their settings, and had to be painstakingly repositioned. Cue lots of dry ice and crew members in what appeared to be hazmat gear tearing up part of the floating stage to service/adjust the harp's emitters.
The rain eased off, and the crowd started to swell, so we took the opportunity to go and grab some merchandise: a programme and a baseball cap emblazoned with "Jarre - Destination Docklands, 8-9 October 1988" in my case. I seem to remember Ian bought a shirt as well. Another snack from the burger bar and a can of coke later, the sun was settling under the horizon, and the on-shore lighting had come on. Within half an hour or so, the 20+ enormous skytracker lights were turned on and started scanning the heavens, tracking across the clouds. Even this simple effect was incredibly effective - it made us feel like the clouds were hanging really low overhead, and wherever we looked, there was a web of thick white beams of light. Projected slides started to appear on the buildings on the opposite shore: 'Jarre', 'Destination Docklands' and 'Revolutions' among them. I've rarely been at a show where the atmosphere was so electric beforehand. We found a spot directly opposite the stage and about 10 metres from the riverside barricade and prepared to be blown away, just as a slide stating '10' appeared on the buildings opposite, accompanied by a stentorian announcement of "ten!" rang out over the PA. The slides (and PA) continued to count down, albeit slowly: sometimes there were five minutes or more between the slides changing. The audience were baying for Jarre by now.
The show seemed to be over in a flash. I suppose it was partly the immense expectations and the long, uncertain wait for the shows to actually take place, but it was all such a rush that it felt like one enormous explosion of light and sound and suddenly we were watching the crowds run for the exits (since by the time the encore was over, it was pouring with rain). In truth, though, once we were back on the bus, we started picking up on various things we'd seen and heard and it became apparent that we'd just seen a great show, and had simply stood there, jaws on the floor, unable to move or communicate until it was over. There are things about that show that are seared into my memory: that first massive firework going off during the opening overture (so huge that the starburst covered the sky as far as we could see in every direction), the blue and gold cascading fireworks during Equinoxe (Part 5), a stunning Ethnicolor, which had Ian and I practically hugging each other in glee, Hank Marvin appearing for a triumphant London Kid, the performance of Revolutions so drenched in fireworks that occasionally the constant barrage of concussion explosions drowned out the music from the PA, watching the laser harp burn into life for the excerpts from Rendez-vous later in the show (I also remember brilliant blue fireworks shooting up from the Thames duringRendez-vous (Part 2) as if they were being launched from under the river - in fact they were attached to floating platforms that were just so low that they couldn't be seen clearly from the shore), one of the huge buildings opposite being made to appear to be on fire during a particularly eerie Tokyo Kid, that odd Japanese dancer that Jarre had on-stage, the enraptured crowd going absolutely mental during Magnetic Fields (Part 2) and Oxygene (Part 4), a triumphant Rendez-vous (Part 4) with Hank Marvin re-appearing on guitar, and the showstopping finale of The Emigrant, accompanied by an apocalyptic firework show and massive 'walls of flame' all over Docklands, fitful green laser beams flickering through it all as we gaped, speechless, at the skies. I felt I understood what Roy Batty was getting at in his soliloquy at the end of Blade Runner. "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe..."
At the time we were just so blown away that we couldn't find fault in it. Over time, of course, having learnt more about the weekend, I can look back and see that there were problems: the previous night's storm had done massive damage to the PA, and its full power was never restored - consequently the show was considerably quieter than it had been supposed to be. The floating stage never moved as planned because there was a danger of high winds and heavy rain which made for potential health and safety issues. Some of the effects didn't work as intended - we were later told that some of the fireworks had been ruined in the storm and had simply not been used (though it's hard to credit that, thinking back to the constant assault on the skies that was being launched - I've never seen anything remotely close to that amount or size of fireworks being used before or since). We were also charmed in that we had gone to the Saturday show instead of the Sunday show, which suffered from torrential rain virtually throughout. On Saturday, we had about ten minutes of light rain at the start of the show, but then the bad weather held off until just before the encores, when it really started to bucket down. I'll never forget Jarre's self-mocking on-stage comment, "But Frogs like rain!"
Overall, though, I think it's fair to say that the experience only intensified our fondness for Jarre - even though both Ian and I had been a little underwhelmed with the Revolutions album on first listen. I can't speak for Ian, but seeing the material performed live had made quite a difference, and even though it remained my least favourite Jarre album for some time, I became very fond of it and played it a great deal. These days, looking back at my experiences at Destination Docklands, playing the album gives me a great warm feeling of nostalgia and flashes me right back to my awestruck 16-year old self.
However, all I could think of at the time is just how desperate I was to (a) see what Jarre had up his sleeve for his next trick, and (b) get to another of Jarre's massive shows. Much to my delight, I wouldn't have long to wait...
(To be continued...)