Gonzales Piano Talk Show at The Pigalle Club

Gonzales Piano Talk Show at The Pigalle Club

30 November, 2009
by: Bexy

I'm knackered and totally not up for a show that starts at 11.30 on a school night. Still, how long can a guy play piano for? I ask Declan this, he beams. Funny you should mention that, because Gonzales, he tells me, his smile growing even wider, holds the world record for piano playing; 27 hours, three minutes and 44 seconds.

Evidently, he doesn't do things by halves - in fact he's greedy. A Canadian born classically trained pianist, Gonzales refuses to limit himself to any one genre. Musos will be familiar with this, having seen his name in all sorts of album sleeves- Beck, Feist, Peaches, Jamie Lidell are but a few he's collaborated with.

I'm not too sure what to expect from him tonight. I have his Solo Piano record, which I love, and play regularly, (especially when I have company and want to look sophisticated). But that's about it. All the crazy electro MCing stuff he's done I don't really know.

He comes on stage wearing a dressing gown and his trademark white gloves. He introduces himself and starts to play. If I could play any instrument it would be piano and I'd ask this man to teach me. He launches with my favourite tracks from Solo Piano, Dot and Gogol, but completely transforms them. Gone is the tender, effortless music I slip on when hung-over or entertaining. He plays like a mad man; is the pianist you always wanted to see.

“Entertainment is war, that's why I'm here for you London. I am a genius yet here I'm the underdog.” He says this, I think, tongue in cheek. The audience laps it up laughing and and I realise why it's a “Piano talk Show” (yes I know the clue's in the title). He chats about his Jewish heritage, Canada, cracks jokes, fights his war.   

 I'm very comfortable and sink further into the cushioned bench. The Pigalle Club is truly delectable, sipping my red wine I make a mental note to come here again soon. The crowd is eclectic and adoring. But then it is a Wednesday night in winter and you do have to face the premature Christmas deluge that is central London. You better be a fan.

“Imagine your parents having intercourse.” He actually makes us do this. I can feel Chris squirming beside me. People gag somewhere in the back. He's introuducing us to the autobiographical opera he's working on. And it's very funny. Throughout the show he distracts us with humour, gently reeling us in before attacking us with fingers that move faster than light.

It's a good tactic and they're good weapons. He's winning the war. It's all over way too soon. I'm not tired anymore; I want to stay all night being entertained. But apparently I don't need to worry, I'll seem him again: “I fell into the crust of the quiche for a while, but I'm back now,” he assures us. Thank goodness for that.

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Bexy