Martha Reeves at The Button Factory | Review

Martha Reeves & Vandellas at Button Factory by Colm Kelly

Martha Reeves in The Button Factory, Dublin, on May 8^th 2014

Has anybody seen Jimmy Mack? Old guy. ‘Bout yay high? Martha Reeves & The Vandellas have been asking a certain question of Jimmy since the mid-Sixties, but the guy is still running wild while the flame keeps burning in venues and cities far from Detroit. Tonight sees the Motown legend bring her ‘Calling Out Around The World’ tour to The Button Factory, celebrating fifty years since the release of her most famous calling card; Jagger and Bowie tried their best to consign Dancing In The Street to the cheese bin in ’85, but there isn’t a blouse puffy enough or a trenchcoat pervy enough to keep this one down.

Getting things started are The Statics, with a frontman somewhere between Lee Mavers and James Skelly, armed with a hatful of retro, jangling pop songs. The acoustic guitar drives the set but it’s no less energetic for it, with the drummer’s shoulders hopping that bit more as things pick up and songs get wilder. Had It Too proves a catchy highpoint, before the singer straps on an electric and things take a turn in a New Wave direction as the set speeds to a close. It’s a brisk run-through, and an enjoyable one to lead in, as the now bustling room sets its sights on Motor City’s finest.

“We don’t mind being oldies but goodies” quips the inimitable Martha, a vision in red chiffon flanked by her sparkling sisters Delphine and Lois, after an MC has whipped up some noise and the young band set off on I’m Ready For Love. What is immediately apparent is that the horn section aren’t the touring band; with certain soul singers of this calibre you’ll usually get a band so tight you couldn’t slip a ticket stub between them. Straight off the bat there’s a looseness to proceedings, as Larry “Mr Sticks” Crockett conducts the five on brass from behind his kit with the gesture of a stick or the whip of a hand, reigning in or letting loose their additions to the catalogue.

Comedic cabaret punctuates the songs, between Reeves and her sisters and everyone else in the vicinity. Tales are told and songwriters given their dues (comedy boos from the crowd follow their shout out to the mighty Holland–Dozier–Holland songwriting powerhouse’s contribution to their career, “before The Supremes took them”) while the sisters shimmy and sing sublime harmonies beside Reeves within the arc of the band.

A slinky take on The Beatles’ Something, and the Johnny Bristol penned No One There, gets the crowd accompanying softly on vocals. For the most part, though, it’s a full-throated party, from the military beat – referencing ‘Good Morning, Vietnam’ – that leads into Nowhere To Run, to the shuffle of Honey Chile (“I’m still a little country girl”), and an all-conquering (Love Is Like A) Heatwave. The latter sparks off a snare-heavy drum solo, transforming into a syncopated beat as the sisters weigh in with repeated ascending vocal “Woah’s” towards Mr Sticks’ final flourish.

After good-humouredly embarrassing the band with individual intros and simultaneously uniting them as ‘her’ band, even if for one night, we get a roll call of the great and good that have covered her songs; and what a list it is, from Cilla Black to Eddie Van Halen and everyone you care to think of in between – “I came all the way to Dublin to tell you…they’re my songs.” A punchy Dancing In The Street is dispensed, The Vandellas depart and the MC re-appears to rouse the rabble some more. A Motown medley follows suit, with I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch) and Signed, Sealed, Delivered bookended by the song of the night.

The real hero of the night, though, is the elusive Jimmy Mack and the song he inspired. The crowd lead it with a clapped intro, and everyone sings as the horn section lifts the melody towards the ceiling and beyond. As fine a rendering as it is, Jimmy didn’t come back, Martha tells us, resigned yet resolute – “We’ll just have to sing it again tomorrow night.”