Sunday, 23 November 2025

1,416 PETER HOOK AND THE LIGHT, Bath Komedia, Friday 21st November 2025

 

Quickly back on the gig trail after last weekend’s “Shiiine On”, and with a “Shiiine” regular sadly absent from recent bills, in the towering legend that is Peter Hook, late of course of dark post-punk pioneers Joy Division and their offspring, indie/ dance crossover progenitors New Order. Hooky announced a tour of New Order’s oft overlooked 2001 “Get Ready” album, prompting some research on my part; but when I checked, I discovered I didn’t even own a copy! Either I was too deep into my Boston rock period then, or so disappointed with their previous 1993 NO-by-numbers release “Republic” (despite subsequently loving their 1998 Reading Festival should’ve-been-headliner set, gig 381) that I didn’t bother… either way, I rectified that with a cheapo CD copy, finding it a notable improvement over its’ blander predecessor and more in line with the mid-80’s “Low Life”/ “Brotherhood” vibe. So tix were duly booked for the Bath stop on the tour!

Like the recent Edwyn Collins gig at this same venue (gig 1,406), I was joined by old friends and curry table regulars Paul and Colin, so I again did the pick-up honours early doors for a traffic-affected run off the beaten track to Bath, parking up in the Podium car park and enjoying some nosh in the Salamander pub before the gig. An early one, this, so we hit the venue at ¼ to 7, running into old Brunel/Lev faces Steffen and Adam at the bar! I then left the boys for a floor spot, house left, a few rows back in this already busy room, enjoying a chat with a lovely lady called Geeta and her friends about “Shiiine On”. The Light took the stage at an early 7.15, easing into opener “Crystal”, then Hooky joined us last, with an expression of serious intent and a black shirt displaying the motif “Mani No. 1” on the back, in tribute to the Stone Roses bassist, sadly lost to us this week at a shockingly young 63. “Crystal” was excellent, growling, gravelly and hard-edged, setting the tone for the first-set “Get Ready” run through, with guitarist David Potts then taking lead vocals for the subsequent poppier and catchier “60 Miles An Hour”, doing an uncanny impression of New Order vocalist Bernard Sumner in the process! “It’s kind of you to indulge me with “Get Ready”,” Hooky acknowledged at its conclusion, “it was recorded in Bath [and] cost us everything we earned for 30 years!” 

“Get Ready” itself was a definite return to form for New Order, the songwriting better and the delivery harder-edged and more dynamic than it’s immediate forebear, almost nodding to NYC proto-punk in its driven and dramatic slashing guitars, augmenting the NO sonic staples of sheet synth, robotic yet thrusting drums and of course that unique, undulating Hooky bass. So “Vicious Streak” was an early outlier to the 2 upbeat openers, more slow-burn, austere and haunting; “Slow Jam” was more abrasive and off-kilter with a nonetheless big anthemic choral hook; and the tumbling stream of consciousness verse and chanted hook of “Rock The Shack” overlaid an archetypal Hooky bassline played by Jack, i.e. Hooky Jr., his dad alluding to shoulder issues and not playing his bass as low-slung as usual. ““Get Ready” was mine and Barney’s second honeymoon – but it all went to shit soon after – like most honeymoons!” admitted Hooky, finishing this excellent opening set with a pounding, dancey and Ibiza-tastic “Technique”-esque “Here To Stay”.

Barely a 10 minute break before the workaholic bassist rejoined us to the strains of Kraftwerk’s “Trans Europe Express”, plunging straight into the dark, sinister avalanche of “Atrocity Exhibition”, leading into a selection of growling, harsh and guttural Joy Division deep cuts. Old Brunel fave, the descending bass of “Disorder”, was an early highlight, as was the regimented drumbeat of the stark and febrile “Heart And Soul”. “Transmission” was usual its roaring, anthemic self, but the clear highlight of the JD numbers for me was the beautifully stark, elegiac wallow of an extended “Decades” dedicated by Hooky to his friend Mani.

A surprising double of the mournful melancholy of “Doubts Even Here” and the building guitar opening of a brilliant “Dreams Never End” opened the New Order element of this second set, Hooky largely keeping off the beaten path with the set selection (“Blue Monday”’s thrusting dance pulse notwithstanding). A superb, propulsive “Age Of Consent” was my overall highlight; “Vanishing Point” a pulsing rhythmic dance vibe, and “Ceremony” was stately and epic, a stripped back middle 8 ceding to a stunning outro crescendo. Another tribute to Mani and his twin sons, now sadly left parentless, preceded a lengthy, inclusive singalong to inevitable closer “Love Will Tear Us Apart” before I caught up with the boys and we slightly lost our way to the car park (and in it!), eventually locating the motor for an inky drive home. So, tonight may have been a slightly sombre occasion for him given his friend’s loss, but Hooky again smashed it with another brilliant set of some overlooked gems. Hooky, mate, Mani would’ve been looking down on you with pride tonight…

Friday, 21 November 2025

1,415 THE 2025 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 14th – Sunday 16th November 2025

 

All back to Butlins again, for the 9th instalment (for us at least) of the 80’s/ 90’s UK “Indie” Festival Celebration that is “Shiiine On”! As usual, we’d booked onsite at the end of the 2024 weekend, trusting in the organisers that they’d come up with something a little more imaginative than 2024’s rather weak bill. April dawned, and with it a solid, unspectacular but interesting bill announcement, lacking one specific band like a Midway Still or a Chameleons (or even a Stuffies or Hooky) to make me really go “wow!” but definitely an improvement over the previous year, and with a couple of high profile, intriguing debutants. I have to admit, though, despite being an indie music fan of long-standing, I’m not entirely within the “Shiiine On” demographic, having skirted around rather than fully immersed myself in the likes of Madchester and Britpop, so I’m never going to be 100% sold on any bill. Still, this was a relatively good one, and it’s always a great weekend for other reasons too. Now, if only the weather will hold out…

Joining Rachel and I for the trip from the ‘don this year for his first “Shiiine On” was our 18 year old son Logan, so after a last-minute car tyre pressure scare, we loaded the Skoda up and hit the road. So what about my weather hopes? Well, that was the first thing that let us down; torrential double-wiper rain pretty much the whole way – happily, despite standing water on the M5 around Gordano, it didn’t delay us too much, and after a quick stop in Minehead Tesco for provisions, we met Matt at the seafront for the traditional fish’n’chips. Unfortunately, the rain then decided to go biblical on our asses, so lunch was taken huddled in the car! Sarah and fellow first timer niece Liz arrived and we set off to book in, rather stupidly going to the wrong car park entrance, then joining a massive queue in the rain for wrist bands, finding our accommodation was closer to the other car park so moving the car, and finally getting drenched and totally breathless hoying luggage from motor to apartment! So, not the best of starts, all in all…

My drowned rat-ness necessitated a sartorial rethink, so one clothes change later, we were out through mercifully easing precipitation, and into the Skyline Arena for SENSER, first band up at 4.30. Their aggressive sub-Rage Against The Machine rap/ rock stylings and occasional PWEI samplings were well outside my wheelhouse, and at odds with the dual lead singers’ smart mom and pop clothes. I bet they looked waaaay different, back in the day... I recognised belligerent old 90’s Lev fave “Switch” and I liked the anti-corporate sloganeering, but that was about it… unlike our Welsh friend Mel, who proclaimed them his band of the weekend. Yeh, already! 

“Welcome to Rain On!” was the apposite intro from the perennially youthful Mike Edwards of JESUS JONES, next up on the big stage. Always good value for “Shiiine On”, Edwards and his kinetic keyboard player gave an energetic, thrusting performance of their techno-inflected 80’s indie rock/ dance collision, although without the retina-scalding psychedelic fever dream backdrop visuals that accompanied previous sets, it felt a little sludgy and pedestrian in comparison. Still, “Never Enough” was its’ usual racey and pacey self, “International Bright Young Thing” was the first unexpected singalong as the Arena gradually filled with soggy punters, and the rhythmic clatter of “Real Real Real” and stop-start techno-rattle verse and pounding choral hook or set closer and best number “Info Freako” got me throwing a shape or two! 

Having no interest in the hairy old 70’s blues via a Britpop filter of Reef, next up, Logan and I had a break at the apartment via a chat with the Abstraction Engine gents, then back in via a short chat with “Shiiine On” regular Miles Hunt (due up solo tomorrow), and a much lengthier one with voluble Fierce Panda boss (and former 80’s NME journo of note) Simon Williams. Back in place though for current FP signees and tonight’s headliners ASH, the nearest to a sure thing on the bill, having won my 2022 “Band of the Weekend” honours, albeit courtesy of a landmark run-through of “Alternative Ulster” with Therapy?’s Andy Cairns. Opening with Strauss’ “Zarathrustra” (AKA the Apollo theme!), this epic intro was followed up by thunderous newie “Fun People” and the groovy chug of new album title track “Ad Astra”. However, just as I was thinking, new ones, fine, I’m not really up for moshing anyway, the ticking chimes of my fave number, the moshpit catnip of “A Life Less Ordinary”, rang out, and I was away down the front, dragging Logan in my wake… 

The surf-punk harmonies of “Angel Interceptor” and off-kilter cacophonous drum crescendos of “Orpheus” got various folks joining in in an expanding, generally good natured (despite one woman who objected to getting bumped – sorry, love, this is what happens at the rock show…!) mosh, Ash keeping it fully fuelled with a fine set selection of bangers from their now-extensive indie-pop back catalogue. A few newies for good measure as well, the beefed-up calypso cover of “Jump In The Line” (which followed a rocking, Ramones-esque mid-set highlight “Walking Barefoot”) getting the crowd singing along as well. But the final 3 blew the set out of the water; a buzzsaw “Kung Fu”, which saw bassist Mark Hamilton pile into the mosh next to me (!), then the driving anthemic duo of “Girl From Mars” and ringing closer “Burn Baby Burn”, rounding off a breathless mosh-bound first day highlight – as expected from the Ash lads! 

Snagged a set-list, yay! Caught my breath before we headed to an already utterly rammed Centre Stage for CLONE ROSES. I’d not been impressed with them on previous viewings (TBF I’m not a huge Stone Roses fan anyway) and little changed tonight – except maybe the singer being more off-key than previously, and thus more authentic to Ian Brown’s oft-bricklayer karaoke flat tones! So I took a breather, sitting down in the walkway and running into old 80’s mate and “Shiiine On” virgin Leggy, here with my mate Andy. A nice catch up (and lament that the likes of Bauhaus weren’t on the “Shiiine On” bill!!) before we were joined by Logan, then he and I headed off to Reds for their late-night festivities, grabbing a seat by the side of the stage, house left. S*M*A*S*H joined us at 11.30; they’d passed me by in their New Wave Of New Wave 90’s heyday, although by reputation I was expecting some seething and punchy angry punky stuff. However they were much more polite and formulaic New Wave fodder, more Jags than Costello or Strummer (although I liked their “Tommy Gun” outro on the opening number). A mid set number featured some unexpected feedback (“just like the Jesus and Mary Chain,” quipped the singer… hmmm, don’t think so, bud), and later numbers such as “Morphine For The Pain” had more of an NYC CBGB’s/ Iggy bluesy swagger about them, but overall I found them pleasant listening but eminently forgettable, I’m afraid… 

Logan turned in and I toughed out the Listen Up DJ’s who were stinking the place out with some terrible 80’s techno/ rave bollocks, eventually grabbing a barrier spot for final act THE OTHERS, slightly late at 1 a.m. I’d seen them 20 years ago on a Psychedelic Furs undercard when they were another hotly-tipped NME press darling act that never got anywhere (remember Terris, kids?), and I recall liking their New Wave/ Cure taut noise whilst bemoaning the absence of tuneage. However tonight they were much improved, attacking their set with the kind of snarling sneer that I’d expected from S*M*A*S*H. “Lackey”, urgent and claustrophobic, set the tone out of the traps, and “Southern Glow”, next up, featured some Fall-like staccato one-note riffery and a vocal not so much sung as spat out dismissively by wild-eyed singer Dominic Masters, who gave me uneasy Davey McManus (Crocketts/ Crimea) vibes throughout. Newie “Nightmare” from their current, 5th (!) album, was a galloping hellscape propelled by some dark and sinister keys and guitar licks; oldie “William” featured a strident and anthemic opening riff and a racey “ba ba ba” choral hook, and closer “This Is For The Poor” was a bass driven dark and morose hymn for the downtrodden with a savage chorus. Overlong at nearly an hour (Dominic regularly complaining of his lack of fitness), but The Others were solid Friday “Best of The Rest” after Ash, and a fine way to end Day 1! 

An overcast but mostly dry outlook for Day 2, as we eventually stirred our stumps late morning and Rach rustled up fried breakfast for 6 (we washed up!), mine unfortunately not entirely agreeing with me, I’m afraid… Anyway, eventually off the loo and into Reds for the last knockings of BLACK JACKALS and their bluesy psych pop. A little more emphasis on the groove rather than the tunes for me, but an eminently listenable part-set for starters from this hybrid NYC/ Scouse rabble, their final number recalling The Von Bondies (remember them?) with its’ repetitive “c’mon c’mon” hook. However I was in a barrier spot for an early Saturday highlight, namely IAN PROWSE AND AMSTERDAM, on at 1 p.m. “Good evening, erm, afternoon!” the man announced before his traditional opener, the bullish “Taking On The World”; then the bouncy fiddle-powered good time music of his former charges Pele’s “Megalomania” led into a lengthy and passionate positioning diatribe for an affecting yet uplifting first-pumping singalong to “Dessie Warren”, and a call to talk about one’s mental health before the subsequent “Different Battle”. 

Musically, Prowsey occupies that territory between the folk/ punk rebel music of my long-time faves The Men They Couldn’t Hang and the poppier singalong fiddle touches of “Hup”/ “Elvis” era Stuffies. Lyrically, however, he’s right in Swill and Cush’s corner, with class struggle polemic permeating his work. And he cares, passionately and volubly, coming across as one of the nicest, most sincere blokes in rock, particularly when his roadie Morgo slipped at his feet mid-set! Stark and windswept ballad “Home” (“my favourite song I’ve written,” admitted Prowsey) was just lovely; “Raid The Palace” was a boisterous and rousing “na na na na” singalong powered along by “the fiddle of fire”, Laura McKinley; and one final chant for the fallen (but OK!) Morgo preceded set closer and highlight “Does This Train Stop On Merseyside”. Again, a little cracker of a set from The “Scouse Springsteen”!

It got predictably busier down the front but I kept my barrier spot and Rach joined us for MILES HUNT at 2.30. “The undisputed King of “Shiiine On” is with you!” the man rather accurately proclaimed, “[now] I need you to sing every single fucking word!” “Mission Drive” and “Circle Square” then kicked another all-inclusive and celebratory set of acoustically delivered yet still rousing indie bangers from the breadth of The Wonder Stuff’s impressive first-time-round 4-album canon. Lots of chat and audience interaction too, Miles discarding his shirt then responding to wolf whistles with, “fuck off – I’m 60 next year!”; introducing “Can’t Shape Up” with a reference to bad relationships in his 20’s, “[although I’ve been] single now for 8 years!”; and admitting his younger self was, “also very good at falling out with people!” No shit, Sherlock! 

A welcome run through of Vent 414’s “Fixer” was preceded with a plug for Vent’s support turn for the Stuffies for their forthcoming tour (I’ll be there in London!), then his previous remark returned to haunt him, Miles remarking, “it’s hot as balls! I haven’t been this hot since…” one wag then shouting, “8 years!” The audience fill for a rollicking “Don’t Let Me Down, Gently” was a late highlight, as was the ladies “audience participation” screams during the late “Unbearable”. “Give Give Give” closed out another splendid showing from the King; he might have meant it tongue in cheek, but as I always say, Miles, above all others, totally “gets” “Shiiine On” and gives the punters what they want – every time! 



We cleared out and I paused briefly to check out the psych-blues pop stylings of DREAM MACHINE in the Skyline Arena. They sounded decent enough in a Blossoms-ish way, but nothing was sticking after a couple of numbers, so I headed back to the apartment for a rest in preparation for a busy and possibly late evening. Back into the Skyline Arena for 6 p.m., and late 70’s New Wavers THE UNDERTONES. Still soundchecking when we arrived, they eventually gave the thumbs up and were straight on it, strutting singer Paul McLoone announcing in his soft Irish brogue, “we’re the Undertones and this is an Undertones song…” Sure enough, “Jimmy Jimmy” was said opener, an energetically delivered version of this old pop-punk classic from back when pop-punk meant something other than the likes of Blink and co., and The Undertones only had the Buzzcocks as serious competitors for the throne of short, snappy, buzzsaw fast yet ridiculously infectious earworm pop hookery. That set the tone for a 23-song strong (!) set from 4/5ths of the original Undertones line-up, the singer the only exception to the rule, but delivering the vocals in a similar tight-trousered, high-pitched tone to original voice Fergal Sharkey, albeit without his slightly irksome quaver (I know, I know, but it’s a matter of taste, right?). Happily, most of the set mined that classic first album, a New Wave classic and touchstone for me, and I found myself singing every word to the likes of “Family Entertainment” and the later, excellent “Jump Boys”, despite not having heard them for possibly decades! Predictably, “Teenage Kicks”, stylishly inserted mid-set, was a predictably rousing singalong highlight, but bettered for me a couple of numbers later with a dramatic, drum-propelled best-of-set “When Saturday Comes”. A splendid set rounded off with McLoone deadpanning, “all the people in the bucket hats; I know you’re confused but it’ll soon be over!”, the irresistible choral hook of their finest hour, “Get Over You” ending a breakneck-speed hour of prime New Wave. 

The bucket hats were of course waiting for INSPIRAL CARPETS, on in short order at 7.20 and happily once again to the strains of World Of Twist’s classic “The Storm”. A bullseye as far as the “Shiiine On” demographic is concerned, the Madchester survivors eased in with a low-key (for me) Doors-ish organ fuelled “Dragging Me Down”, before the tumbling backbeat hook and dissonant organ middle-8 of “She Comes In The Fall” precipitated the first of many singalongs from the mooing massive. After 2023’s disappointing set – particularly the performance of original vocalist Stephen Holt, whose softer, more nuanced tones stacked up badly generally to the more strident, overt delivery of the out-of-favour Tom Hingley but which were particularly flat on that occasion – I’d adjusted my expectations accordingly, but I have to admit Holt did a better job tonight. “Let You Down” was a bit muddy and monotonous, but the subsequent “Move” (always a favourite of mine) was melancholy yet uplifting. A messy “Joe” however seemed to suffer with vocal tech issues (either that, or Holt simply forgot the words!), but the elegiac “This Is How It Feels” with its extended acapella singalong from the crowd, was a highlight. The Fall’s much-missed leader Mark E Smith’s distinctive tones were piped in as vocal overlay to a spiky “I Want You”, and after bandleader and organist Clint Boon shoehorned in a couple of additional numbers (“we’re playing so fast!”), the insanely jolly toy organ riff and big hook of “Saturn 5” rounded off a somewhat inconsistent set which at least was better than before. 

We finally caught up with Simon, whose “Shiiine On” attendance this year was unfortunately sporadic due to other commitments, albeit better than our other intended Shiiiner and friend Martin, who had to pull out at short notice due to health reasons. Shame! Well, at least we’re Shiiining for you mate… and ready for a surprise in headliners THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN. Celebrated squalling leathered-up post-punk noiseniks from the 80’s turned scuzzy Iggy-esque proto rock’n’roll mavericks, they, like the Bunnymen last year, fitted the “Shiiine On” time-zone but possibly not the vibe, so, as the requisite wall of dry ice enveloped the stage, we wondered how these sleazoid Scottish veterans would go down here… 

Well then, how? For me, it seemed that JAMC were as divisive as the Bunnymen last year, and as previous headliners Teenage Fanclub, as throughout the set, pockets of space seemed to open up from our usual house right spot by the front Skyline tent support pole, for myself and interested party Logan to step into; so much so that by set end, we were front and centre a couple of rows back, in prime spot to grab a ridiculously easy mainstage set-list! But I’m jumping ahead of myself… abrasive, strobe-backlit opener “JAMCOD” was followed by the laconic chug of “April Skies”, a tremendous, absorbing “Happy When It Rains” and a, “how you all doing?” greeting from the usually taciturn vocalist Jim Reid through the smoke. The bleak, soda bar from hell doo wop of “Some Candy Talking” burst into cacophonous noise in the middle 8 for another early highlight, but that aside, the early set was full of unfamiliar newies, slightly alienating the “Shiiine On” massive, particularly “Pure Poor” which was frankly a plodding dirge.

However a superb “Head On” signalled a sea change in the set, and then it was pretty much sleazoid rock bangers all the way, Reid lifting his mic arm up after each number to signal his thanks. Singer Jane Weaver guested on the insouciant makeup/ breakup call and response of “Sometimes Always”, then the widescreen “Just Like Honey” was a delicious set highlight. A plaintive and understated “Darklands” was similarly heart-tugging, before Reid proffered thanks prior to the caustic, dramatic death wish chant of “Reverence”, closing out a polarising set which I nonetheless really enjoyed, particularly after “Head On”… 

That was 10 p.m. and the end of the Skyline bands; we grabbed a bench by the gin bar at the back of the Arena and Logan had a dirty kebab late tea before he and Rach headed off for a rest, intending to come out later for the Lamacq indie disco at 2 a.m. in Reds. I stayed put, being joined by Matt, and running into Simon Williams for another brief chat that turned into a long one! Note to self, if you see him tomorrow, block out the next half-hour…! This however bridged the gap to my next act, namely CUD at ¼ to 12 in a busy Reds. Thankfully I’d earlier plonked myself on the barrier, house left as the ebullient Carl Puttnam led his troops on and burst into the booming indie pop opener “Now Is The Time”. I’d not seen the quirky C86 survivors since their 2017 set here, but time hasn’t changed their off-beat, slightly “Carry On” eccentric charm, or Puttnam’s slightly risque gyrating showmanship. And the man can sing; a rich, resonant and occasionally octave straddling baritone, reaching the high hooks of the stomping “Eau Water” and the later upbeat jangle and regimented rhythm of a surprisingly singalong “Only A Prawn In Whitby” with ease. 

Prior to that, the funky smut of “Strange Kind Of Love” saw Puttman announce, “it took 8 hours to get here and 4 hours to forget I was in a van!”; the likes of “One Giant Love” and “Hey Boots” were bouncy, flouncy and groovy as fuck; and the Higsons-esque 80’s white funk of “Robinson Crusoe” was overlaid with fruity wah wah effects from guitarist William Potter. The chugalong lasciviousness of “I’ve Had It With Blondes” rounded off a slightly offbeat yet entertaining Cud band set, which took us up to ¼ to 1, so I had a sit-down break, and then a bit of a dance to a decent indie disco (Modern English! Dinosaur Jr.!), which took us to 10 past 1, and the arrival of AIRCOOLED after a fiddly set-up. This lot featured Olly from Shoegaze Queen Miki Berenyi’s band, plus former Elastica drummer Justin, and my initial investigations suggested a shoegaze Stereolab type of sound, worth checking out. However, they kicked into a clattering, migraine-inducing techno synth riff then pounded the shit out of it for what seemed like hours but was probably only 5 minutes or so. The second number was exactly the same, albeit at a slightly slower tempo, so I decided this blend of industrial krautrock and trancey synth wasn’t what I wanted to hear after 1 in the morning. So that was it for “Shiiine On” Saturday, and I wandered back to the apartment to find Rach and Logan already tucked up and fast asleep. So no Lamacq indie disco for any of us this year! 

Potential early musical highlights and general lack of interest had again prompted the cancellation of our intended Sunday Carvery, so we again had a lazy morning before I checked the car tyre, wandering into the Skyline Arena from the Studio 36 side and thus running into an arriving David Gedge and Rachael Wood from last year’s revelation The Wedding Present, stopping them for a quick chat and pic. It was then into Centre Stage at 12.15 for another early start; still very quiet but happily not as tumbleweed-deserted as last year, for the 12.30 commencement of BMX BANDITS. Given that the last time that they’d played “Shiiine On” was Saturday afternoon in 2017 (gig 1,062), when I had to miss half their set to escort my rather drunk wife back to our chalet to sleep it off, I was happy to get to see their full set this time! Opening with “Little Hands” (“a golden oldie for you,” according to vocalist Duglas Stewart), this band of C86 jangle pop heroes (and, apparently, favourites of Nirvana’s much-missed Kurt Cobain) delivered an understated yet utterly charming set of hooky, melodic and harmonic Big Star-esque strumalong pop, with Stewart a voluble, witty and entertaining raconteur. “Serious Drugs”, covered by my beloved Gigolo Aunts, was lower-key yet beautifully singalong, and introduced by Stewart as his, “retirement fund”! The subsequent twee yet delightful acapella “Your Class” followed Stewart’s claim that, “we are possibly indie pop’s most romantic band, according to Jakki Brambles’ radio show!”; the bouncy “Disco Girl” was about as rocking as BMX Bandits got; and closer “Spinning Through Time” was a cinematic yet touching and personal ballad dedicated to Stewart’s late wife. Not the best set this weekend, but quite possibly the nicest… 

Matt, Rach and I grabbed a seat for the next act; not a full band performance from 80’s swirling post-punk heroes The Icicle Works as advertised, but a solo performance from IW bandleader IAN MCNABB, apparently due to illness. Unfortunately, the capricious McNabb suggested, “you might be rock’n’rolled out so I’m going to play some acoustic numbers…” thence kicking into a lengthy and heavy-going “Dreams Of Heaven”, a solo number of his. And whilst I liked the more sweeping desert ballad of “Merseybeast”, next up, subsequent numbers delved into introspective and frankly dull Young/ Dylan-esque folk/ alt. country territory. A shame really, as I’ve seen McNabb waaay better than this, and this felt like an opportunity missed; with everyone expecting the band, just play some better-known Icicle Works songs for starters, eh? Read the room, mate… I headed off before I nodded off, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one… 

So, off to a rapidly-filling Reds in advance of the arrival of the DAVID GEDGE DUO, next up at 20 to 3. I still managed to grab my habitual house left barrier spot before it got really busy and whiled away the time with a lively conversation with Rachael, a lady who admired my Smiths shirt! So, come the hour, we were joined onstage by Wedding Present main man Gedge plus another Rachael, the erstwhile Ms. Wood, who for me is a key reason behind The Weddoes’ return to my listening habits and gig itinerary, thanks to her dynamic and powerful axe work. She wielded the electric guitar whilst the snowy-capped Gedge bashed away at a road-weary acoustic with his usual gusto for opener “A Million Miles”, his low stentorian growl a little throatier than usual. “Thank you, good evening, I’m Rod Stewart,” he quipped at its’ conclusion, alluding to a cold which nearly forced him to cancel, his work ethic ultimately prompting him to power through (although apparently when he picked Rachael up en route and said hello, she just laughed at him!). Nonetheless, he and Rachael did power through, the additional dynamism provided by the new guitarist being evident even in this acoustic setting. “Dalliance”’s slow burn moody intro led to a great thrashy strumalong denouement; the groovy 60’s ish “It’s A Gas” was preceded by a story of Gedge getting a letter marked from the House of Commons, believing it to be from apparent WP fan Kier Starmer, but it turning out to be a notice of roadworks (!); and the excellent “You Should Always Keep In Touch With Your Friends” was a delightful inter-twining jangle fest. 

The set was coming nicely to the boil then, with “Brassneck” next up, but I had already tendered my apologies to D&R during our earlier convo that I was going to miss half of their set due to the most upsetting clash of the weekend. I raced back up to Centre Stage then, grabbing a central spot a row behind the barrier this time, for recently reformed Scots combo THE SOUP DRAGONS, taking the stage shortly after my arrival. Rach had seen them at the “Gigantic” Bristol gig last year and returned with a less than favourable opinion, but from the outset they seemed determined to bury that, opener “Whole Wide World” an amphetamine-fast colourful burst of C86 buzzsaw punky pop, and “Crotch Deep Trash”, next up, a splendid sounding sleazy psych wah wah fest. Nothing wrong with either of those! 

The Soup Dragons, for me, were effectively 3 different groups; the Buzzcocks-esque C86-adjacent surf punk lot I saw in 1986 (gig 53!), then the more Stones-influenced trad bluesy psychedelia- tinged first album band I saw in 1987 (gig 69), and finally the baggy dance troupe of late 80’s chart fame, who I didn’t see at all. A lot of moving parts in their sound, then, but for me the set, leaning more towards those first 2 phases until towards its’ end, was well balanced with a great flow to it, delivered with gusto by these Scots veterans. The slightly ramshackle “Hang Ten” was nonetheless irresistibly happy surf punk; “Can’t Take No More” (vocalist “Hi-Fi” Sean Dickson lamenting, “I wrote this with no space to take a breath, so if you see me pass out…”) was an undulating and growling NYC proto punk rocker; and “Soft As Your Face”, apparently based on a riff Dickson wrote at 13 (!), was more melodically redolent of the 80’s Glasgow vibe, with a lovely plaintive guitar riff. “Head Gone Astray” (Dickson remarking, “some people used to call this “Head Gun Ashtray”” – I certainly did!) was a soaring and melodic best-of-set for me, although the barnstorming buzzsaw pop of oldie “I Know Everything” was Dickson’s favourite – so much so, in fact, he played it twice! Finally, the baggy dance of “Mother Universe” and an extended “I’m Free” got the ample crowd singing along, “Free” being preceded by an on-point exploration by Dickson of the concept of freedom. A new, punky protest number “No Music On A Dead Planet” was an apt slogan to end a superb set balancing The Soup’s various styles excellently and ultimately winning my Set Of The Weekend by a very short nose. And even Rach admitted they sounded a completely different band to “Gigantic”! 

Grabbed a list and queued up with Rach and Logan (who’d finally hauled himself out of bed for some Sunday entertainment!), getting it signed and having a fun chat with drummer Ross. Out into the Skyline Arena for some of NORTHSIDE’s baggy stylings, meeting Matt there. They were never my cup of tea back in the day, so I didn’t stay long, instead grabbing a dirty kebab tea (same as Logan’s, yesterday!) and hitting the apartment to watch the England footy game! Back out, however, for SLEEPER in the Arena at 7.20. From the outset, however, they sounded tepid, the guitar sound barely audible, falling very flat even in comparison to the Sleeper-by-numbers first part of their recent Bristol set (gig 1,404). Even that brilliant undulating guitar intro to “Delicious” sounded perfunctory at best, and Louise’s vocals, breathy at the best of times, sounded as if she’d just run a marathon, emerging almost one syllable at a time before a breath!

Yup, sorry, I’m a fan but Sleeper tonight were about as disappointing as I’d seen them since their reunion; the backbeat rhythm of “Lie Detector” was the most dynamic sounding number up to then, but that proved a false dawn until the bubbling synth of “Atomic”, again interspersed with a middle 8 crowd singalong to the “Love Will Tear Us Apart” hook. “She’s A Good Girl” was plodding cabaret at best; “Inbetweener” saw Lou drop her vocals right own to a whisper; and final number “Sale Of The Century”’s Britpop snark was actually the best non-“Atomic” number, albeit powered by an audience singalong. Overall, soporific and disappointingly dull – and I wasn’t the only one with that view, a “Shiiine On Appreciation Society” Facebook member posting “will someone ask Sleeper to play at the right speed?” Ouch! 

And that was about it for me – I’ve seen headliners Cast enough times here to know they’re not my cup of anodyne Britpop indie landfill, so I briefly ran into Gedge and Rachael for another quick chinwag, then hung out and chatted with the crew at the back of the venue before we headed back to the apartment. They all went back to see Space at 10.15 in Centre Stage who by all accounts utterly smashed it (even winning a “SOAS” “Best Band” poll), but they’re again a band who’d never landed with me (Tommy Scott’s vocals are like fingernails down a chalkboard for me – sorry but that’s how I feel!), so I watched some American Footy in the apartment before turning in! A bright Monday dawned, seeing us pack up, bid farewell to crew and various friends then hit the road for a circuitous journey home, reflecting on another lovely weekend away with family, good friends and overall fine music. The Soup Dragons may have won my SOTW but honestly, The Undertones, Ash and/ or JAMC might also have taken that accolade. So, another successful “Shiiine On” in the books – see you next year, Minehead!

 

SHERIFF’S SHIIINE ON SELECTION

Friday Best – ASH

Saturday Best – THE UNDERTONES

Sunday Best – SOUP DRAGONS

 Overall – 1. SOUP DRAGONS, 2 ASH, 3. THE UNDERTONES, 4. THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN, 5. MILES HUNT

 Best New Band – No-one really!

 We Can Be Heroes – MY CREW as ever, including first-timer Logan (despite sleeping almost all day Sunday): RACHEL for sensibly pacing herself again: MILES HUNT for a short but friendly chat: SIMON WILLIAMS for a couple of much longer ones (!): DAVID and RACHAEL for not minding too much that I went off to see The Soup Dragons: ROSS from the Soup Dragons for signing my list as per 1987!





Thursday, 13 November 2025

1,414 DEEP SEA DIVER, Hunny Buzz, Bristol Louisiana, Wednesday 12th November 2025

 

As I mentioned in my review of the Dutch Mustard gig (gig 1,398), it seems that, in another thin “new band” field dominated by hectoring or bored sounding vocalists, or Oasis/ Monkeys rip-off indie landfill, 2025’s brightest new acts seem to come from the distaff side. Primarily female fronted, with myriad musical reference points all within my wheelhouse, and of that ilk, Seattle’s Deep Sea Diver might just be the best of the lot. Flying under the (my?) radar for over a decade now, their 2025, 4th (!) release “Billboard Heart” includes those familiar sonic elements of dreampop, post-punk and thoughtful and cerebral US indie, overlaying a set of intelligently crafted yet eminently listenable and uplifting songs. About time I got on board with them good and proper, so I booked for the Louisiana date on their UK tour before it sold out! 

Unsurprisingly (it’s his wheelhouse too!), Beef had booked separately for this one, so we made plans to travel together. His turn to drive, so I wandered through the alley to his mum’s house at 6.15 before an easy drive, a red-light run (whoops) and a park-up around the corner. A quick drink and a chat filled the time before we popped upstairs to grab a spot a couple of rows back, house right, for the openers at 8. And, happily, said openers were locals and short-notice replacements Hunny Buzz, who’d impressed as support to Wings Of Desire some 18 months ago (gig 1,315). Well, however notable that set was, they took it up a few notches tonight with a considerably edgier, more acerbic and dynamic set of all-new numbers, whilst retaining their upbeat, buoyant indie-pop core. Opener “Wish Bone”’s slow burn intro ceded to a spikier repetitive hook of “seen a lot of boys like you” from striking and authoritative vocalist Lydia Read; “Car Collision” was a stop-start undulating and tempo changing old school indie banger with Lydia’s vocal yelp again a feature; and a new number, “Hey Mary” showed a more understated contemplative side to their indie oeuvre. Final number “Joyride” eased in gently, gaining momentum along its’ absorbing, tempo changing, crescendo-laden length to close out a welcome late-shout set from a young band going places – very soon!

We nudged a little bit forward in this now-packed and sold-out room, ending up with my head practically in the speaker stack by the side of the stage! Deep Sea Diver, led by frontperson and main inspiration Jessica Dobson, took the stage to applause, immediately followed by a reverential hushed silence! Appropriate really, as opener “Billboard Heart” eased in with a similar hushed thoughtful intro before building into its’ more Death Cab For Cutie-esque rhythmic alt-rock melancholic mood, Jessica’s almost angelic soaring vocal a feature. “Emergency”, next up and my favourite number, immediately changed this pastoral mood into a growling, tense and taut NYC 70’s New Wave vibe, Jessica switching vocal tack and coming across strident and almost Patti Smith-like for this definite early set highlight. “Thanks for selling out the show!”, Jessica announced at its’ conclusion; “it’s going to be one of those sweaty gigs – none of you will be spared!” 

As per their excellent current “Billboard Heart” album, Deep Sea Diver “live” are a glory-box collision of various styles within the overall umbrella of alternative/ indie guitar rock, said mashups often taking place within the same number, thus leading the listener in a myriad of challenging and thrilling directions. F’rinstance, the coruscating synth pattern and sheet metal guitar work of “What Do I Know” blended into an almost dreampop choral hook; “Wide Awake” featured a lengthy, almost Bob Mould-esque strafing riff intro leading into a dark, dramatic core; and the crepuscular vibe of “Tiny Threads” was augmented by a War On Drugs-esque widescreen synth pattern, the band making ample usage of their 2 banks of keyboards. An odd Q&A session, mainly concerning the band’s breakfast choices (!) preceded Jessica’s solo yet bolshy “Be Sweet”; then “Shovel”, Jessica again initially channelling her brooding, “Because The Night”-era Patti Smith voice before the song broke out into more angular 80’s synth pop, was another late highlight. Closer “Eyes Are Red”, absorbing and expansive, saw Jessica venture into the crowd during the guitar riff outro, rounding off an excellent set from a band difficult to pigeonhole but very easy to listen to and thoroughly enjoy.

Keyboardist Elliott handed me his list through the side curtain (!) and I got the band (including a besieged, merch stand-bound Jessica) to sign it. Yay! Also chatted to the Hunny Buzz folks, discussing their obvious clear kindred spirits Coach Party (unsurprisingly, they love them and would love a joint tour – hey, me too!), before hitting the road for a quick blast home, following an excellent if unexpected double-header. Maybe 2025 isn’t such a bad year for new bands after all, if Hunny Buzz and Deep Sea Diver are examples to go by!

Wednesday, 5 November 2025

1,413 ADAM ANT, Toyah, London Camden The Roundhouse, Sunday 2nd November 2025

 

Another of my teenhood faves to follow The Psychedelic Furs, last time out… this time in the shape of original 70’s art school sex-punk turned ubiquitous 80’s crossover pop megastar turned new millennial Comeback King Adam Ant! And again, like last time out with the Great Man (gig 1,241, bumped from 2021 to 2022), this was a rescheduled gig… Logan and I had originally booked for a “Boys Day Out” in London for a Saturday last November, until Adam once again came down with a touch of Covid, but at least we were happy that the rescheduled date still fell on a weekend. And, to top it off, our friend Mitchell Tennant announced a matinee show for his excellent Adam tribute band, Ant Trouble, at the Camden Dublin Castle, as an Amuse Bouché for the main course. So, a double dose of Antmusic? You bet! 

Swindon punk queen Debby had hung onto her ticket from 2024 as well, so we picked her up at 11 a.m. for the intended Osterley-then-tube journey. However, we discovered en route that our Piccadilly branch line was closed today, forcing a parking rethink on the fly. Tried first at Hammersmith, only to find a suggested residential area had recently added weekend parking restrictions, and an NCP we’d used before required over £42 for our intended length of stay: fuck that for a game of soldiers! Last resort then, to book our Kentish Town bolt hole, which was free and actually cheaper than expected, so we drove straight in! I dropped Logan and Debs off at the DC on the way, dumped the motor in Kentish, then rejoined them at 2.15 for some chat with other punters Deb had befriended. Enjoyed 2 fine sets from Mitchell’s splendid Ant Trouble in the scuzzy old back room, the first a proper punk delve and the second a broader selection, Ant Trouble skilfully avoiding much of Adam’s own set selections. Logan and I then took a walk through an inky Camden for some Chinese street nosh, then queueing up half hour before doors (our intended sneak into the Roundhouse bar – which had worked for our most recent visits – being unavailable tonight. Bah!). Eventually we got in and grabbed a spot house left, a few rows back in this huge old circular and domed engine shed venue.

Deb and her new-found Seattle friends joined us just before opener Toyah at 7.45. Ms. Willcox had ploughed a similar furrow to her headliner and long-time friend (part of the original punk scene, then a more pop-oriented 80’s chart career before branching out into acting), although I’d paid far less attention to her works (apart from early single “Ieya”), finding them a bit cheesy pop, slightly twiddly and even proggy, so I confess I wasn’t expecting much tonight. From the outset, however, she set out to prove me wrong with a dynamic set drawing from the breadth of her canon, delivered with expressive energy, self-effacing humour, chutzpah and an impressively powerful voice which ran through the octaves from rock to almost operatic tones. “Hello, you beautiful people,” she announced as introduction to a hard rocking and soaringly anthemic “Thunder In The Mountains”, “this is from 1980 when none of you were alive – you were all sperms!” 

The early, moody piano-led “Neon Womb” saw her referencing her punk days; the cheesy yet fun “It’s A Mystery” saw her quip, “only a singer with a lisp could sing this!”; and the epic, widescreen and tempo-changing (if a little lyrically pompous) “Ieya” was actually tremendous, topped with an impressive and lengthily held final note. Throughout it all, Toyah looked like she was having a ball up there, face-cracking smiles and effusive thanks after each number, and commenting before the sheet synth opening and tumbling Eurovision drumbeat of stupidly catchy closer “I Wanna Be Free”, “you’ve made an old pension age punk rocker very happy!” Right back at’cha, girl; a surprisingly fun set from a born performer and entertainer!

And as night follows day, one follows another… the tarps came off the dual drumkits, imposingly placed on a high drum riser at the back of the stage, then the lights smashed to black as the theme from old Western “The Magnificent Seven” welcomed the band of black-clad desperados onstage. The dual drummers immediately fired up the drumbeat deluge of opener “Dog Eat Dog”, then Adam joined us, slim and striking, hussar jacket and tricorn hat firmly in place, to a rapturous reception, delivering a slightly low-key vocal. “Vive Le Rock” followed, more robust and dynamic, before Adam enquired, “I don’t suppose you fancy a bit of Antmusic, do ya?”, before the upbeat singalong to this eponymous track. That’s what we’re here for, pal!

The man looked good, svelte and snake-hipped as ever (particularly given his years – 71 tomorrow!), commanding attention by his mere presence, teasing and enticing the crowd into rapt devotion. Having said that, the onstage movement wasn’t as fluent and kinetic as previous tours, and the trademark strident yelp was deployed more sparingly than usual. Still suffering a bit from the Covid, or simply the years catching up? Whatever, it was still a consummate, if understated performance, ably backed up by a faultless band, drawing equally from all eras of his recorded output. So, I enjoyed the early double of “Cartrouble” and the staccato guitar work on the descending, propulsive “Zerox” as well as the bullish “Carry On” smutty cheek of “Lady” which segued in via the “ooh ooh ooh”’s into a rowdy and rousing if truncated “Fall In”; and whilst the mid-late set, heavy on his solo “pop” hits, dragged a little for me, there was always the zig-zagging Burundi beats of the defining “Kings Of The Wild Frontier” and the turbo-charged build of a breathless set highlight “Beat My Guest” to keep this old punker happy. 

The eerie sleazoid oldie double of a deadpan “Never Trust A Man (With Egg On His Face)” and the growling, sinister “Red Scab” preceded another diamond in the rough, the oft-overlooked yet haunting and stripped-back “Killer In The Home” (for me the highlight of that “KOTWF” run-through back in 2016, gig 990). A lengthy encore of the inevitable “Stand And Deliver”, Adam conducting an ebullient mass singalong, rounded off another great Adam Ant set. List, then a walk back to the car and thankfully much easier drive home, Deb and I reminiscing and singing along to some 70’s/80s Brunel Classics on the way, getting us back for 1 a.m. I have to confess that this kind of felt like one of the last opportunities to see Adam, his performance suggesting possibly an imminent retirement from the grind of “live” shows. If so, I’m glad I’ve made the most of it, tonight being my 11th time of asking since his 2011 revival. Every time a great time too, so thank you Adam Ant!

Thursday, 30 October 2025

1,412 PSYCHEDELIC FURS, Anja Huwe, Bristol O2 Academy, Tuesday 28th October 2025

 


After last Friday’s gig/ catch up with an old friend, here’s another one! This time the band in question are long-standing “live” faves in sleazoid post-punk auteurs and Bowie acolytes the Psychedelic Furs, announcing an Autumn go-around of the UK to follow up their “Forever Now” June Festival performance. So of course, I’m going to have my old mate Doug standing next to me for this one: the man accompanied me for my first ever “live” Furs experience, at Hammersmith Odeon waaay back in July 1984 (gig no. 15!) and 3 of the 9 other occasions since then, so I was happy to make it 5 from 11 with him!

I picked him up about 6 for a swift drive down the M4, unfortunately hitting slow traffic at the end of the M32 and taking over 20 minutes to get to Trenchard from there, so we had to make do with a house right spot about 3 rows back. Already filling up nicely, this one, and notably busier than the Furs here in 2022 (gig 1,220), when the balcony – already fully lined with punters tonight – stayed shut all evening! Maybe tonight’s support, former X-Mal Deutschland vocalist Anja Huwe, had a hand in this; German language Goth/ darkwave innovators X-Mal featured in my early “live” experiences, with gigs in 1983 and 1985 (gigs 8 and 39), and clearly those of others tonight too, given the smattering of X-Mal tees around us. Taking the stage last after her predictably black-clad band had already started up a suitably eerie intro, then kicked into the doomy dissonant build of opener “Boomerang”, it was immediately evident that Anja was in pretty good shape after 40 (!) years; facially older, sure (hey, aren’t we all?), but moving with grace and style, and delivering the song’s descending vocal hook with the atonal yet strident and authoritative tones of old. 

I’d been led to expect a roughly half and half split between Anja’s recent harsh, sandblasted synth-fuelled album “Codes” and her former charges’ material; however of the 11 tracks in tonight’s excellent 45 minute opening set, we had 8 X-Mal tracks! So her own early double of the pulsing and militaristic drum-powered “Pariah” and the clattering darkwave and Killing Joke-esque heavy yet textural guitar of “Rabenschwarz” was followed by the sinister, foreboding X-Mal debut album oldie “Young Man”, and a thrilling, resonant post-punk “Polarlicht”. An eerie “Mondlicht” featured Anja going full on banshee wail on us, over doomy, tumbling drums, and “Incubus Succubus”’ strident, repetitive hook took me right back to those early 80’s Brunel Amphi nights. However, an unexpected “Qual” topped that, discordant, metronomic and mesmeric, with a squalling Bob Mould-like white noise middle 8 a feature. Great stuff, the old girl’s still got it…

Follow that, Furs! By now our front spot was seriously busy, and, after I’d squeezed back after a quick loo run, I felt as squished as that fabled Biffy Clyro post-Covid crush in 2021 (gig 1,197). Also, there were lots of youngish (20-something) girls around us… has Furs vocalist Richard Butler latterly become a Gen Z sex symbol or what?? Anyhoops, the band took the stage nonchalantly at 9.15, the older Butler last, briefly joining his younger sibling and bassist Tim centre stage to greet the adulation, before breaking into the glorious descending hook of opener “Heaven”. The tense drama of “President Gas” followed before an early highlight, a tremendously sweeping and morose “Wrong Train”, with the energetic Butler, already fulsome and expressive of gesture, pleading to the heavens in his elastic-taut, nasal tones. Great start! 

Follow that? I’ll bloody well say they did… The Furs were quite superb tonight, as good as I’ve seen them in years. The band, tough, together and road-tested, exploited a fine Academy sound balance and delivered a proper performance, focussing on the music over gimmicks and chat (Butler only taking the mic to sing and say “thanks” after each number – no intros as usual!). And the set, happily, veered off the beaten track with a couple of later, rarely played tracks from their oft-overlooked 6th album “World Outside” in the smooth powerpop of “In My Head” and the expansive melancholy of an excellent “Until She Comes”. Before that, the soaring, yearning hook of “My Time” was an early highlight; the toy Xylophone riff of a singalong “Love My Way” was particularly popular with the girls behind us (!): and the bullish, racey “Run And Run”’s outro vocal refrain was simply joyous… “I’ve been waiting all night for someone like you, but… you’ll have to do…” indeed!

“Pretty In Pink”, the quintessential 80’s crossover pop song for me, was followed by another oft-ignored classic in the brooding verse and big anthemic hook of “Heartbreak Beat”, to round off a 1 hour 10 set which frankly flew by. Encores of the discordant herky-jerky “It Goes On” and the slow burn intro to the punk rock hellride of “India”, which featured Butler literally shaking his touring guitarist Peter DiStefano during his outro riff, rounded off a quite marvellous set. A list as well (which hasn’t been a given for recent Furs gigs!) then a relatively easy exit saw me bumping into Chloe and James from Wings Of Desire (and ex-In Heaven, of course) plus Chloe’s mum on the walk up the hill to the car park; Chloe’s mum had been at the Furs 1987 Colston Hall gig (my gig 68!). We then bumped into old punk mate Dirk in the car park lift – he’d been to the Stranglers at the rebadged Colston Hall (now Beacon) tonight – before an easier drive home got us back before midnight. As I said, just marvellous stuff from The Furs tonight, continuing to grow old (dis) gracefully, and delivering a brilliant performance for what will likely be one of my favourites of the year. Nicely done guys!

Sunday, 26 October 2025

1,411 BOO RADLEYS, Quartermain, Witney Studio Se7en, Friday 24th October 2025

 

A short notice one, this, and a chance to catch up with an old friend after a long while… recently ¾ reformed 90’s pre-Britpop indie/ psych prestidigateurs The Boo Radleys booked in to a studio in Witney for rehearsals for a forthcoming European tour, and, noticing the onsite venue, also announced a warm-up gig there! I’d never been to Witney for a gig before, but a bit of research not only revealed it was the right (i.e. the ‘don) side of Oxford, but also very close to Eynsham, where my 90’s Level 3 buddy Rich Craven lays his hat. Our paths hadn’t crossed since a couple of Oxford gigs in 2018 (Fij & Bickers, gig 1,068, and ChameleonsVox, gig 1,118) but arrangements were happily made to rectify this sorry state of affairs.

Drove off at 4 into the windswept and storm-battered wilds of Oxfordshire, eventually finding Rich’s pad amongst a maze of farm outhouses! Caught up at his place over a cuppa, chatting so much that we barely noticed the clock ticking up to gig time! Headed over to Witney, parking up in the sodden industrial estate venue location and getting in early doors. A compact and bijou little community centre venue, this, albeit off the beaten track and on the outskirts of town, and under new management too, tonight being the launch event. I met Rich’s friends “Deadly” Dan and new proprietor Becky, and we continued our catch-up until local openers Quartermain, on at 8. Their opener, “Time” was bouncy and melodic in a Summery Britpop vein, but subsequent numbers veered into understated 80’s wallpaper pop territory, the vocalist’s oft-used falsetto a bit annoying as well, so we went back to our conversation! Their later numbers sounded a bit powerpoppier, e.g. the Redd Kross-ish “Like A Meteor”, but they were generally forgettable, and at 45 minutes, overlong… 

Hit the loo then took a ridiculously easy spot down the front, house left, while new Boos guitarist Lewis soundchecked the front line. Nowhere near full tonight, and quite an odd clientele too; a few old school indie and Boos fans (including a father and son from Tring, chatting with me down the front) but outnumbered by curious Friday night couples and disco divas on girly nights out! Which beggars the question; why are the Boos labouring away in such tiny spots, whilst considerably inferior 90’s contemporaries pack out bigger halls, O2 Academies, and even stadia? As Bob would say, makes no sense at all… Anyhoops, the Boos took the stage just after 9.15 to the atmospheric “Giant Steps” opening backing track, easing into an understated but clear “I Hang Suspended”, the languid rhythm at least getting me moving down the front. Sice then introduced the subsequent rasping growl of “C’mon Kids” with, “this is a different gig for us – we’re off to France so this is an early taste [of the Euro tour set] – you get to hear the new songs and the fuck-ups!”

Self-effacing as ever, but for me, whilst the Boos took their time to really bed in the sound (early numbers such as a nonetheless fine-sounding double “Barney And Me” and “Find The Answer Within” feeling a little low-key as they eased in), fuck-ups were happily absent, and by the ubiquitous “Wake Up Boo!”, stylishly inserted in early-mid set, they’d really found their mojo with a dynamic, bouncy version of their best-known number. And Sice was in fine buoyant form throughout, chatty and effusive between numbers in his Scouse tones (“I sound more Scouse when I’m onstage!” he lamented), introducing the set material drawn variously from the entirety of their surprisingly deep 90’s canon, “because the French like that [material]!” The early “Barney” had gotten me rocking good and proper, and I carried my bat throughout, being joined occasionally by a smattering of dancing ladies to the more familiar stuff: so whilst “Wake Up!” was really busy down the front, the subsequent mellow melancholy of “Reaching Out From Here” saw me back dancing on my own! 

The brooding “Man Who Sold The World”-esque riff of “Ride The Tiger” (“a single, weirdly enough,” according to Sice) led into its’ loose-limbed, dubby outro; a rare outing for “From The Bench At Belvedere” evoked a hazy, late Summer evening vibe with its’ mellow melody; oldie “The Finest Kiss” gave a reverential nod to their droney shoegaze origins; and after the late period Beatles-esque “King Size”, the tremendous “Lazy Day”’s juxtaposition between discordant backbeat verse and melodic undulating instrumental hook was the set highlight. Well, until… “Thanks for coming, it’s been an absolute blast!” Sice effused, before introducing set closer, a tremendous, tremulous and widescreen “Lazarus” its’ stately and epic scope a fitting conclusion to a fine set. A set list from Sice, then a chat with the man himself before we headed off. Dropped Rich off for last orders at his local, then an inky but happily dry run back through the Cotswolds and a stop for late kebab tea got me home just after midnight. Excellent company both on and offstage… and hopefully it won’t be too long before I catch up with Rich – or the Boos! – again!