Gil Scott-Heron

The politics of author, poet and musician Gil Scott-Heron are all about inclusiveness. And for the man conspicuously absent from his last Dublin visit, the first significant inclusion of the night was Scott-Heron's actual presence. He ordered doubters to pay up, and for a few seconds Vicar Street rustles with money begrudgingly changing hands.

This was not to be a night of polemical poetry nor of vitriolic verse. A 30-year career has seen Scott-Heron mellow and unite political content with musical fusion. His Amnesia Express band arrived on stage and weaved blues together with soul, jazz and funk, forming a slow burning groove that marked a musical celebration rather than a call for revolution.

Despite the Celtic scarf draped across Scott-Heron's piano (his father once played for the Glasgow team) his message was not partisan. A smoky and soulful performance of Work For Peace scored a call for unity with resounding chords, scalding saxophone and feverish conga beats. And while it would have been interesting to hear The Revolution Will Not Be Televised in the age of Internet-broadcasting, Scott-Heron favoured immediacy rather than a greatest hits routine. His demanding mantras are crucially relevant to this place at this time.

Nowhere did the politics of inclusion come across stronger than when Scott-Heron demanded full audience commitment for the chorus of Three Miles Deep. They reciprocated with a rowdy and genuine demand for more.