This
one took us all by surprise… “Forever Now”, a one day, 80’s post-punk-centric
Festival at Milton Keynes Bowl was announced late last year by the organisers
of the US’ “Cruel World” Festy (the line-ups for which I’d been looking at
longingly for a number of years, hoping the San Andreas Fault would open up and
push California closer to the UK), and it was basically a post-punk fan’s wet
dream, with some massive names from that era featured alongside a couple of
serious curveballs from my musical heritage. I was up for it immediately, the
only issue being that it fell on the 18th birthday of my son and
regular gig buddy Logan. He had a definite idea on how he wanted to spend that
day, involving being in his regular “happy place” of Brixham, rather than in a
Buckinghamshire field. Luckily, though, he was happy for me to dip out, so, after
some family arrangements being made to suit all parties, I booked myself an
early 60th birthday pressy ticket, gathering gig companions along
the way in “Shiiine On” buddy Matt, best mate Rich and, finally, recent gig
buddy Jeremy, who’d grabbed himself a late and much cheaper one!
The other point about this day was that it fell on the 40th Anniversary of my first ever outdoor show, U2’s coronation “Longest Day” event waaaay back in 1985 (gig 29!), affording me a opportunity to repay a debt. R.E.M, later one of my favourite bands, were largely unknown to me at the time of that U2 undercard, when they had the invidious task of not only preceding the headliners, but having to immediately follow The Ramones! That they did so with a seriously dull opener (the dour “Feeling Gravity’s Pull”) put me off realising their brilliance for 2 more years, so, my penance today was to sport a pink “Little America” R.E.M shirt, as the out-of-town boys Matt and Jeremy gathered at mine for an early start. Scooping Rich up on the way, we one-stopped for possible late picnic fixings and hit MK about 11, finding our booked Purple Parking adjacent to the Bowl very easily, albeit seemingly having to drive over a raised pavement to get in! Waited for ½ hour in a small queue for early entry (apart from Jeremy, whose ticket didn’t include that), funnelling into the early booker’s “VIP” area which took up half the front of the main arena stage and finding Jeremy already in situ down the front on the other side of the barrier! So much for our early entry! Sussed out the quiet-early doors scene and location – 2 stages, the other one a shlep to the side and back of the main bowl arena masked by the trees lining the bowl banks. Warm with light cloud cover early doors too, so not the parched heatwave some of us were fearing (not me, I’ll have it as hot as you can give it me!).
A smallish crowd had gathered for mainstage openers UK DECAY at 1 pm. Recently reformed, this raw punk turned macabre proto-goth act were an early discovery for me at 14 years old and featured on a Killing Joke support slot waaay back in 1982 (gig 3 – yes, gig 3!)! Vocalist Steve “Abbo” Abbott quipped, “I think we’re the only local band on!” as they eased into lengthy bass-driven opener “Unexpected Guest”, Abbo’s sonorous vocal tones in the drawn-out verse switching gears to a scalded yelp during the chorus hook. Good – and good sounding! – start, but thereafter the sound (and level of practice?) was a bit variable; whilst the ascending circular hook and sinister plunge of “Stagestruck”, the cold war claustrophobic tension of “Testament” and the militaristic drumbeat menace of a later “Black Cat” impressed, the likes of “Sexual” and “Mayday” were sadly a bit messy and disjointed. However, Abbo’s perma-grin and charisma remained a feature throughout, and the dissonant guitar and tumbling drums of closer “Unwind” rounded off an uneven but entertaining opening set. Good to hear those old songs again after so long, but shame old U18 Brunel floor-packer “Dresden” was omitted from the set…
Nonetheless,
I was happy to grab one of the lists the roadie emerged from the backstage
entrance with, and stay in situ for BERLIN, next up at 5 to 2. My only prior
knowledge of this 80’s lot was their “Top Gun” inspired cheesy power ballad
No.1 “Take My Breath Away”, but they immediately showed there were more bows to
their strings than that, with opener “Masquerade” being a shiny and upbeat slice
of 80’s MTV goth/ synthpop and quite a mood changer from UKDK’s opening set. Thus
followed an energetically delivered set from this band, who seemed to feature
WWE wrestler Goldberg’s twin brother on guitar, and with no-one more energetic
than diminutive black leather clad vocalist Terri Nunn, looking and sounding
astonishingly well-preserved for 65 (!) and impressing particularly with some
operatic vocal lifts. That said, the sound was very tethered (anchored?) to
those MTV video, big-hair, shoulder-pads and leg warmers 80’s times, and put me
in mind to revisit the soundtrack to “Beverley Hills Cop”! I liked the brisk,
synth-propelled Our Daughter’s Wedding clone of “The Metro”, but when “Take My
Breath Away” (preceded by Terri thanking the UK record buyers for giving them
their first number one) kicked in, Matt, Rich and I wandered out, also leaving
them to their cover of AC/DC’s “Highway To Hell”. Timed our exit just right,
then…!
Off for something completely different; a third stage, The Echo Chamber, located around the rear walkway of the Bowl, promised a programme of onstage interviews with luminaries from the 80’s post-punk era. Unfortunately, most clashed with live must-sees, but we were happy to catch some of RICHARD JOBSON, erudite and entertaining Skids mainman, in conversation with 80’s journo, writer and all-round renaissance man John Robb. Some fun stories of London punk rock squat life in those 70s/80s, but having seen Jobbo a multitude of times of late with The Skids, I’d heard most of this before as between-song banter, so after waiting out the tail-end of Berlin’s set, I was back in for the first of my Big Three (in a row) today…
Found Jeremy again in our house (field?) left spot about 10 or so yards back, for “live” favourites of mine, THE CHAMELEONS, slightly late at 5 to 3. “Our friends in Portugal and Spain say hello to you,” announced vocalist Vox by way of introduction, the former Mark Burgess bursting into the fulsome fist-pumping heroic and anthemic soar of “The Fan And The Bellows”. A lower-key, brooding “Perfumed Garden” featured some skittering and resonant guitar work from the splendid Reg Smithies, and the hurtling newie “Saviours Are A Dangerous Thing” featured a subtle but pointed anti-Trump lyric; however the double whammy of a widescreen and sprawling, tumbling drum-dominated “Soul In Isolation” (again featuring lyrical homages to The Doors, Bowie and The Beatles in its’ stretched mid-section, before building to an epic crescendo) and the equally libidinous rhythm yet intricate riffery of a brilliant “Swamp Thing” were my joint highlights. Vox wished us all a great day, before the driving growl of “Don’t Fall”, capped with a “Rebel Rebel” lyrical vignette, rounded off a typically epic if startlingly brief-feeling 6-song set from this oft-overlooked Manc rabble. Only 6 songs, maybe, but I probably reckon “Isolation” and “Swamp Thing” clocked in at the thick end of 20 minutes between ‘em!
A list too, as I squirmed my way to the front and snagged a copy scrunched into a ball by the roadie, unfortunately clocking a woman next to me in the face while I caught it! Profuse apologies later, I met up with the guys; Jeremy elected for some Public Image on the Other Stage at this point, so Rich, Matt and I popped back into the VIP front section, opting for a house right viewing spot for PSYCHEDELIC FURS, next up at close to 4. Old “live” faves of mine of course, this being the 10th time I’d seen them since the first back in 1984 (gig 15!), and they’d often delivered utterly colossal performance down the years. Quite the best-dressed band of the Fest as well, the dapper vocalist Richard Butler sporting a smart bat-wing suit, and his monolithic bass player brother Tim a stately black and red combo. Talking of bass, that underpinning growl was a little discordant during the verse to opener “President Gas”, but the sound was sorted in time for the dramatically tense, moody chorus. “Heaven”, however, sounded tremendous, that delicious descending hook a feature, and “Wrong Train”, next up, was achingly melancholy, Butler’s nasal Bowie vocals soaring and impassioned. “The Ghost In You” needed 2 goes (the first start waaay too fast!) but its chiming keys, courtesy of Andrea Kremer, underpinned quite the most delicate and downright pretty song of the day; “Mr. Jones”’s careering punk rock was a startling change of pace; then, following the inevitable singalong to that quintessential 80’s song “Pretty In Pink”, the extended psych-blues and dramatic layered crescendos of “India” rounded off a marvellous set, delivered with some sashaying style by Butler and co. No “Forever Now”, oddly, and a few numbers missed the strident sax blare of Mars Williams, sadly lost to us 2 years ago, but Psychedelic Furs? Colossal again, all the same…!
I tried for a list, but the stage front was completely rammed with no way through; no surprise, given who was up next… We wandered back to the other side, and I ran into my mate Rog’s wife Kate and goth teen daughter Mattie (Rog himself being in Budapest at the moment!) for a chat, before going back in for JOHNNY MARR. On just after 5 to the coruscating “Fade To Grey”-esque synth refrain opening to “Armatopia”, Marr, stylish in black denim and floppy moptop, was at once both the coolest and most talented bloke in the joint, with a multitude of phones suddenly sprouting up like sunflowers after an intense Summer shower every time Marr launched into one of his typically intricate, undulating and brilliantly mellifluous guitar riffs. Particularly to the Smiths songs in the set…
And oh, those Smiths songs… this was definitely a case of “know your audience” from the boy Johnny this evening, with a higher proliferation of numbers from his former legendary 80’s jangle-indie band than at his own gig at the Bristol O2 last year (gig 1,323), much to the delight of most around me (including a fair few young chaps who nevertheless knew all the words; fair play, boys!). “Panic”’s glam stomp initiated a rousing terrace chant singalong; “This Charming Man” (cheekily introduced by Johnny as, “a new number”) was breathlessly and brilliantly upbeat; and after a hushed, pastoral and reverentially-received “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want”, the quivering and lugubrious “How Soon Is Now” was brilliant, Johnny coaxing ever stranger effects from his guitar pedals and being moved himself to comment, “that was a good one…” at its’ conclusion. But, following a first-pumpingly catchy “Easy Money” and an angular yet merry sway along “Passenger”; the closing “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” (dedicated by Johnny to, “everyone in this field and nobody fucking else!”) was outstanding, as ever heartbreakingly melancholy yet joyous at the same time, eliciting a lengthy and communal singalong outro to the Best Song Of The Day, concluding the Best Set Of The Day for me. The boy Johnny done great!
So, early evening and Jeremy and I took a
wander to the merch stand in the rear walkway for a programme, then took a spot
on the bank for a wider view of BILLY IDOL, next up. I liked his old 70’s
punk-with-a-touch-of-swaggering-glam band Generation X, not so much his solo
material, so vast swathes of his set (especially the slow burn brooding,
pouting MTV 80’s Goth-lite likes of “Flesh For Fantasy” and “Eyes Without A Face”)
were a bit of a slog. However, upbeat, racier newies “77”, “Too Much Fun” and
particularly expansive rocker “Blue Highway” were more impressive, and “Rebel
Yell” was a rousing slice of pure 80’s post-punk cheese, the hook audibly echoed
back by the baying faithful. Idol, clearly having put in an energetic shift,
dispensed his sweaty shirt into the crowd before another jacket change and the
ubiquitous closer “White Wedding”. As I said, a bit cheesy, but fun cheesy
nonetheless…
We then met up with Rich and Matt, wandering over to the Other Stage (first time today for me) whilst commenting on how successful the day had been, what a great vibe, and in particular how smoothly it had seemed to be running. This however proved to be famous last words, as we wandered up the walkway to the house-right side entrance to the Other Stage, noting that THE DAMNED, due off 15 or so minutes earlier at 25 past 7, were still only just kicking into pummelling old punk classic “New Rose”… We arrived to see most of this song; then, the most bizarre sight ensued, as Vanian and Co. seemed to keep playing beyond this number, but with the speakers having been switched off and the onstage monitors therefore the only sound, we couldn’t hear what was being played! It then got weirder, as rap song “99 Problems” then blasted from the speakers, but The Damned just kept playing! Eventually the band seemed to interpret the crowd’s signalling and waving, realised they’d been cut off, and left the stage in a seeming state of confusion.
By this time I’d bumped into Bristol
friend and chanteuse Keeley Moss, introducing her to the boys and
chatting away while roadies soundchecked, re-soundchecked and soundchecked
again, taking an interminable amount of time and at one point causing us to
ponder whether there were insurmountable tech issues, which might force the cancellation
of the final 2 bands due up! Eventually, THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN rather
grumpily took the stage at 8.30, 40 minutes late and 5 minutes before they were
actually due to go off (!). “JAMCOD” was a tough, bristling and frankly
pissed-off sounding opener, followed by the scuzzy chugging rock’n’roll sleaze
of “April Skies” and the slow-burn surf-pop soda-bar undercurrent and cacophonous
choral build of “Some Candy Talking” The hitherto monosyllabic and taciturn vocalist
Jim Reid then addressed the audience with, “if our set is cut short, it’s fuck
all to do with us… we’ve been told to get the fuck off!”
Luckily, said departure wasn’t immediate; a harsh, growling “Venal Joy” preceded a plaintive “Sometimes Always”, Primal Scream’s Simone Butler joining Reid onstage to sing Hope Sandoval’s female line in this duet; then the languid Velvets-like doo-wop of “Just Like Honey” saw me keep my promise to my gig buddy son, and record it as a birthday greeting! A squalling, savage “Never Understand” was a noise-fest punctuation point on a fiery and tempestuous ½ hour set, Jim’s obvious annoyance actually having added extra vim and venom to the performance, as he led the band off indignantly, no doubt to kick some asses…
This then took us to 9 p.m., and as dusk fell and the Other Stage arena partly emptied, I realised the flooring entirely consisted of very dusty and uneven gravel, rather than the main arena grass, and it had started to play havoc with my knees! Furthermore, another half hour passed with no sign of the appearance of Death Cult, next up… Much as I would have liked to stay to listen to Astbury’s lot (I was particularly looking forward to “Spirit Walker”, excellent at Birmingham Institute in November 2023 (gig 1,303)), my knees were barking away at me and clearly needed a rest, so I reconsidered my plan, and decided to take possibly my last opportunity to see one of the most influential and iconic groups ever in music…
Into the darkening and cooling main
arena, then, and I took a spot on the sloping bank at the back, house right,
all the better for the best possible view of headliners, German Krautrock and
synthesiser veterans and innovators KRAFTWERK. As per my one previous sighting,
at the now-Bristol Beacon back in 2017 (gig 1,042), their performance was a
perfect synthesis of sound and vision, utilising both the stage backdrop and
huge side screens to augment their oft-haunting, oft-playful and quirky, but
always challenging and fascinating stripped-back electronica. “Skylab” featured
a huge spaceship emerge from a backdrop-projected Earth; a lengthy “Autobahn”
(not the 22 ½ minute full-length that has become the traditional soundtrack of
mine and Logan’s motorsport event journeys!) wove a languid, hypnotic spell,
with a VW Beetle projected on the backdrop for accompaniment; and “Radio Activity”
was symphonic, prescient and uncomfortably haunting, names of nuclear incident
locations being projected onto the backdrop and adding to the sense of unease.
The lengthy and clattering “Trans-Europe Express” was stark, elemental and hypnotic, the austere black and white train track projection standing out in the now inky blackness, whilst “The Robots” was a heavily vocodered yet melodic hymn to the march of technology. Then, the sparse, rhythmic and slightly cartoonish “Boing Boom Tschak” segued in and overlaid the robotic chant of “Musik Non Stop”, as the 4 members of the band peeled off, one by one, from behind their onstage plinths, sole original member Ralf Hutter leaving the stage last to cheers, after another quite astonishing multimedia performance.
That took us to 20 to 11 and the
end of the Fest! We all convened at the back of the main arena mixing desk for
a slow wander back to the car, taking a wrong turn on the way but getting back
in short order. Egress seemed straight-forward, so we had our intended
post-Festy picnic before setting off just after 11, driving home through some
unpleasant sheets of rain but getting back to the ‘don just after 12.30.
Dropped Rich off and Jeremy collected his car at ours for a shortish drive
home; Matt stayed over as he had further to go, but left straight for work the
next morning.
So, that was the inaugural “Forever Now”; we all agreed it was quite the excellent day out, all bands showing up and delivering as hoped. Yes, there were teething troubles centring around the Other Stage (comments from certain bands on Facebook the next day illustrating this point), and clearly the audience was nowhere near the hoped level – I’d guessed about 20,000, Matt reckoned a whole lot less – giving rise to very cheap tickets being available during the week leading up to the event. But fingers crossed that these issues will be chalked down to teething troubles, and they’ll give this another go, rather than write it off as a “one and done”. Because it offers something different to the general Festy scene, a celebration of a time in rock’n’roll history whose influence still resonates down the years and has massive impact on a whole slew of “new” bands in the current musical climate. Most of all, it was thoroughly enjoyable and fun. So, promoters, take heed, please please please, let us get want we want… let this event stay “Forever Now”!
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