Of all the bands to make a successful transition into the 21st Century, UFO have to be the ones voted ‘least likely’. With all the bad blood, court cases and tantrums since the ‘classic’ line-up reconvened, it only seemed a matter of time before it all fell apart again. But since they finally jettisoned a certain German guitarist, it’s been a rare old ride. They’ve knocked out a couple of good studio albums, and their live shows have been, by UFO standards, absolute delights.
If there is a downside to a UFO concert, it’s the static setlist, with only one song apiece from the last three studio albums. It may be down to Phil Moggs’ remarkable ability to forget his own lyrics and albums, or the fact that Pete Ways’ brain tells him: ‘9.27pm, play the bass line to This Kids,’ no matter where he is or what he’s doing at the time. But when they’re churning out classics such as Mother Mary, I’m A Loser, Love To Love and Rock Bottom, it seems churlish to complain.
The fans really do love UFO. They were always more than just another rock band, melodically and lyrically, with Phil Mogg generally lacking in the macho braggadocio most of his peers engaged in, instead conveying a frailty and depth out of sync with the world of rock. That, and tunes to die for, is what keeps people coming back for more nearly 40 years after UFO first landed.
