Peter Gabriel, O2 Arena review — prog-rock grandee is a thoughtful showman

It was instructive to see Peter Gabriel perform just a fortnight after watching Roger Waters at the same venue. Both are prog-rock grandees linked to famous bands, Genesis and Pink Floyd respectively. Both put on visually spectacular shows with expansive messages about the state of the world. But whereas the polarising Waters is antagonistic and pessimistic, Gabriel is hopeful and inclusive. A cuddly soft-plush doll of him, were one to be manufactured, would sell like hot cakes to Genesis fans looking for a gift for the grandkids.

With customary big-picture thinking, his concert at the O2 Arena opened with the beginning of life. Gabriel, an avuncular figure with a shiny pate and silvery goatee, eyes surely twinkling had one been near enough to notice, whistled down a small spherical light from above, a stand-in for the meteor thought to have crashed into Earth 4bn years ago. He then mimed smashing the light into a replica of a smouldering fire. 

Other rockers of his generation — he’s 73 — might have accompanied this life-bringing motion with power chords and drum solos, bangs being preferred to whimpers in the astrophysics of old-school arena entertainment. But Gabriel has always balanced showmanship with thoughtfulness. He settled himself in a semicircular bench by the fake fire and began performing a hymnal slowie about rebirth, “Washing of the Water”, with a keyboard balanced on his lap. 

He was initially accompanied by bassist Tony Levin, a longtime collaborator. Other musicians joined them on the bench for a sprightlier number from his solo back catalogue, “Growing Up”. Then the space was magicked by identically clad stagehands from prehistoric cave into a full-band set-up with drum kit, piano, microphone stands and so on. It was at this point, a figurative leap forward in the span of human civilisation, that the first of Gabriel’s new songs was played.

These offerings have been many years in the making. Not quite the dawn of time, but Gabriel’s last album of new material was as long ago as 2002’s Up. A new one, i/o, is due later this year. Its tracks made up half the setlist. “Panopticom” [sic] was the first, an electronic rocker introduced by Panglossian talk of technology making the world a better place. Others had titles such as “Live and Let Live” and “Love Can Heal”.

Gabriel’s faith in progress can be too cuddly — but the actual music had a limber feel. Regular accompanists such as Manu Katché on drums and David Rhodes on guitar were joined by new recruits including trumpeter Josh Shpak and cellist-singer Ayanna Witter-Johnson. She ably took Kate Bush’s vocal part in the consoling anthem “Don’t Give Up”, among the fan favourites from Gabriel’s solo career that balanced out the unfamiliar new songs. There was nothing by Genesis. 

Inventive use of screens and lighting included specially commissioned visuals by artists such as Cornelia Parker and Ai Weiwei. Gabriel alternated between playing piano and roaming the stage with a microphone. His voice has grown hoarser and less mobile, but he settled into his expressive singing style as the concert developed. 

“And Still”, a tender ballad dedicated to his mother, was warm and wistful, while he matched Witter-Johnson’s dynamic turn when they sang “In Your Eyes” together. The atmosphere was nuanced and responsive, occasionally bordering on sedate: there was a notable switch-up in energy when he pulled out “Sledgehammer” just before the mid-set interval. But the show drew one into its richly layered soundworld and sense of pacing. Ending with customary set closer “Biko”, a tribute to the slain South African activist Steve Biko, it gave fresh impetus to Gabriel’s abiding belief in music as a force for change.

★★★★☆

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