Peter Hammill – Royal Festival Hall, London, 2nd October 2025 – Just a man in loose fitting white clothes under minimal purple lighting, one orange spot, sat at a grand piano on an almost empty stage for half the set, behind a guitar for the other. Just a man with a voice holding an entire sold out and quietly packed Royal Festival Hall silently captivated, at times in astonished delight, for almost two hours, wow! It went past so quickly such was the intimate intensity. Hardly any phones held up, no one talking, no one taking photographs or filming, not because anyone had asked us not to but just because we’re all so captivated we’ve forgotten we have those phones we can never forget now. We’re all in the (shared) moment and not thinking about anything other than the man, his songs, his voice, his words. Just a rather thin looking seventy six year old man holding the whole room in his hands, carrying it all on his shoulders, oh what shoulders, what a history, what a body of work, is it something like fifty albums he’s made now? Peter Hammill, prolific solo performer as well as leader of one of the finest bands ever, Van Der Graaf Generator, and as others have said of this small three night tour (Edinburgh, Manchester and tonight, the last date in London), this was probably one of his finest solo shows. How is it possible for him to be sounding so good? To be delivering with so much intense power, singing with such importance?   

Now most people, reasonably enough, would rehearse a set and play that same set for the three nights, but Peter is not most performers and yes, the set on the second night in Manchester was completely different to the first night in Edinburgh and well, no clue about what we might get in London? Actually he quietly opens with a stripped down version of the nervous tension of Don’t Tell Me (surely too early to be saying goodbye already?) before the drawing back of those hotel room curtains of Just Good Friends and then Tommy awaking with his head full of rocks and that picture with the frame all cracked, and then Curtains itself, three songs linked by the nature of their affairs as Mr Hammill pointed out himself, three songs just played on the big black grand piano on that empty stage under those minimal lights. Just right there. Right there before something more worldly, I think he said worldly? Someone will correct me, it is all like a cat’s cradle now and we’re trying to gather up the strands on the morning after the night before. I don’t where we are? Or where Suzy is, we see her on the TV sometimes, or other friends from other shows, where are they all now? It does all just so easily slip away – and this is the thing, you hang on the words, the stories, the moves, the gestures, you don’t drift, you are there for every word, every note, you can’t drift. Why this man isn’t such a household name as say Leonard Cohen or why this is like some meeting of a secret society tonight I don’t know. Why isn’t Peter Hammill everyone’s treasure, not just us gathered here, some who have travelled half the globe to be here tonight.   

The first of what will be three Van Der Graaf songs in the set, a beautiful version of the rather quiet Siren Song,  and oh look, I’m not going to run through the whole set, it all ran through our veins and things did get dramatic and he hammered that piano when he needed to just to brake the bonds again, at other times he delicately played and sang, did he sing more that shout tonight? This was a wonderful set, this was a wonderful night. Yes there were other things I wanted him to play but that is always going to be the case, he has so many songs. I really wanted the encore to be Vision like they got in Edinburgh, if this was going to be the last time I would see him I really wanted Vision, but we got Refugees and what more could you want for the last song of a set? Whatever Peter Hammill plays there are always going to be more songs and is it really all over already? Come on, play for another hour at least, you’ve only been on stage for thirty minutes! He had in fact been on for not far off two hours but it did go by so so quickly. 

And then from Siren Song and away from the piano to his guitar, and they say we are endowed with freewill and a powerful version of The Comet, The Course, The Tail and of course he’s fully committed to it, when has he ever not been, Peter Hammill does not dial in a performance. How does he put so much into it? Hasn’t he had serious heath problems recently? This will? Is this the only way we know he’s alive? The Comet is a highlight in a set full of highlights and besides the clapping and the cheers after every song, everything is pin-drop silent, all that knowledge that we gain in parts, oh this is wonderful! What can I say, in some obscure way? I can’t objectively review this.. 

Shingle Song, oh I do want him to yell look at these jerks but that was a long time ago, Ricky Nadir is here beneath the caterwaul though, here’s one from his time, all those gestures unspoken. Yes, you know I’m a fan, Ive said all this before, he could stand up there for two hours and read the phone book and I’d be more than happy (actually now I think about it, it would be a brilliant performance piece – Peter Hammill reads the phone book!), but this was a particularly good one, no no no no, this won’t leave my mind for a long long time and I like to keep God out of church and it was almost reverential, I’ve no wish to put anyone on a pedestal, that would be uncomfortable, but… Comfortable? Always in a hat? The social custom? what a gig, these damn seats are so uncomfortable though (what right have I got to feel comfortable?). 1983 was a good year, Patience was a fine album, but then can anyone ever pin down a favourite album? Has he ever really made a bad one? 

The Birds is as beautiful as ever, that chill just ran up my spine again listening to it again in here this morning, The Birds was special last night. Oh look, I can’t write Peter Hammill reviews, I don’t need to analyse it, I don’t want the thinking about writing about it to get in the way of just the thinking about it. Even by his standards this was a (very) special gig and The Birds was an extra special moment and Spring too early and those Mayflowers blooming in February and the birds not knowing which way to sing.  

And then that bite of Modern drawing us all even closer together – the stranger sitting next to me didn’t say a word all night, he didn’t need to, we just looked at each other and nodded at the end, we both knew, we didn’t need to say anything. Oh, don’t look back, life overgrown?  Not in here, no concrete slabs, not in this moment shared by all in here. I have no idea how many times I’ve seen Peter Hammill or Van Der Graaf now, they’ve all been good, of course hey have, but this was extra special and yes, maybe it it the knowledge that it might be the last time (although nothing was said as he left the empty stage, neither was anything said before or after, or for that matter during a good chat pre-gig with Van Der Graaf drummer Guy Evans). 

The drama of Patient was another highlight, the power of the soul…  Oh this review can’t go on like this, this is fanboy frothing and he’s heading back to the piano now, the guitar left with all the waiting for the doctor. On to A Better Time and the countdown to the end (of the show) begins, although the down of The Decent and the pegging out of that tent after the uplift of A Better Time? But that’s Peter for you said someone afterwards, and here’s ten pence to make a call to someone about it. And out of date, out of stock out of use, A Way Out and oh, they’re all highlights, all these fallouts, all these out of grace things, who would want to get out of this place? Should this be this good? This passion, these bare naked songs, these moments that leave us out of breath. and Stranger Still and the toasting of that empty glass and that restaurant behaviour and the tearing at the piano with his hands and the shuffling of the menu (or the music) and the trying to read between his lines…  

There’s a box set just out, a massive set, hundreds of songs, vast amounts of albums, we’ll get to that in a day or so, but that’s for the already committed (or those who can afford such treasures) and it surely would be impossible to put together a retrospective double album, no one would ever agree on the playlist? Pick your twenty best songs?! No two lists would be the same, if I did somehow manage to do it, then tomorrow’s list, much like his own set lists, would be completely different to today’s.

Still Life, the majesty of the final song of the set already, the second Van Der Graff Generator song of the night and all the spewing and sinking and ultimately passing away the time that has flown by tonight, and then, unlike Still Life itself, he’s gone. He’s simply said thank you and what a pleasure it had been to play for and without fuss he’s gone although you know the ritual, all the shouting for more, the clapping, the cheering (the tears), and please please please let it be Vision, please let it be Vision, he played it in Edinburgh, oh why didn’t we go to Edinburgh?!  Refugees! Brilliant, what could be better for a final beautiful song of this set, of this tour, of…

Refugees is just beautiful anyway, tonight especially so, just ask Mike or Suzy, oh you don’t need to ask anyone, you know. And then he was gone again, just that almost fragile white-clad figure, by himself, heading for the stage door, cheers ringing around the building, people just nodding at each other, no one saying much, silence, just right, everything about it just so right, wow! (sw)     

 And, seeing as it was the last song, here it is back in 1970…

Previous Peter Hammill / Van Der Graaf Generator coverage on these pages (and there is so much more older Organ coverage that’s not on this site)

if you really don’t know, maybe start with Jim’s just released film and some of that prime Van Der Graaf live bootleg footage – ORGAN THING: NYC ‘76, an 88 minute Van Der Graaf Generator documentary by Jim Christopulos is released today, or at least let loose via YouTube today, see it here…

And, in case you need it…