Lynyrd Skynyrd’s forthcoming new album is called Last of a Dying Breed. They’re not joking, either. At least nine former members of the vowel- challenged group from Jacksonville, Florida are dead — surely a record. Their names could be seen floating hazily among the clouds in the sky next to a giant eagle carrying an American flag that decorated the back wall of the stage during the closing stages of their show. This was the time-honoured moment at which the band rolled out their best-known song, Free Bird, and with it one of the most monumental setpieces of rock guitar shredding known to man.
It was a fitting denouement to a loud, boisterous show in which an unstinting work rate was maintained and few clichés left unturned. The seven members of the group arrived in a swirl of hats, shades, tight jeans and boots. None of them had apparently submitted to a haircut since 1973.
Without preamble they launched into a string of numbers drenched in the good ole boy, Southern rock’n’roll heritage. “Turn it up, crank it out/ Let me hear you shout/ That sweet soul Southern music,” sang Johnny Van Zant in Skynyrd Nation, the only song in the set that was recorded later than 1977.
If there is one thing Lynyryd Skynyrd do not have a problem with it is creating a mythology. There were roguish tales of drinking (Whiskey Rock-a-Roller), shooting (Saturday Night Special), picking up groupies (What’s Your Name), paternity claims (I Ain’t the One), and working for the Man (Workin’ for MCA), all delivered with a breezy outlaw panache and all carrying the ring of truth about them.
There was a momentary pause for more sober reflection in That Smell, a cautionary tale of impending doom inspired by the reckless behaviour of the guitarist Gary Rossington. Ironically, Rossington, now 60, is the only original member of the group still available to play it.
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They struck a philosophical note with the epic ballad Simple Man, which Van Zant dedicated “to all the simple men in London, England”, before getting back into the freewheeling spirit with Call me the Breeze and Sweet Home Alabama, by which time Van Zant was waving a Confederate flag tied around the top of his microphone stand in the air.
Doubtless they could have done the whole thing in their sleep, but it was entirely to their credit that, after so many hard knocks over such a long time, the band was still so passionately engaged.