Fast forward to 2002, when Deep Purple decided to return for a DVD-recorded spectacle. This time, they brought a new orchestra—the BBC Concert Orchestra—and a new attitude: “We’re old, but we’re still loud.” The crowd was a mix of balding dads in leather jackets and younger fans who discovered “Smoke on the Water” through Guitar Hero. I imagine a few people brought their earplugs, but they forgot them in the car. The stage was so stuffed with musicians that the conductor had to stand on a tiny podium, looking like a nervous squirrel.
The highlight? A reworked version of “Highway Star” with the strings playing the guitar solo. It’s oddly beautiful, like hearing a dragster race through a cathedral. But the real chaos came during “Space Truckin’,” where drummer Ian Paice unleashed a solo so ferocious that a few violinists were seen shielding their bows. One audience member later said the floor of the Royal Albert Hall actually vibrated. Not a metaphor—the floor, a century-old wooden structure, started dancing along.
The Weirdest Moment: The Conductor’s Wig
Let’s take a pause for a surprising, almost unbelievable fact. During the 2002 gig, the conductor—a dapper fellow named Paul Mann—was so animated that his toupee nearly flew off during the finale. He caught it mid-air, slapped it back on his head, and kept conducting. The band didn’t miss a beat, but Ritchie Blackmore allegedly snorted with laughter. This is not a joke; I swear it’s in the DVD extras. It’s the perfect metaphor for the entire night: high art meets high comedy.
Photograph. Deep Purple - Royal Albert Hall. 7x5 Inch (18x13cm
And what about the audience? They were a mix of royalty (actual royalty, including a minor baroness) and rock fans who smelled faintly of stale beer. At one point, a woman in a floor-length gown started air-drumming to “Child in Time,” causing her husband to look mortified. That is the power of Deep Purple at the Royal Albert Hall: it turns posh into punk.
