1,408 THE WEDDING PRESENT, Mozart Estate, Bristol O2 Academy, Friday 3rd October 2025

 

Well, veteran choppy Indie guitar abusers The Wedding Present have well and truly re-established themselves on my Dance Card with a vengeance; their revelatory and redemptive performance at “Shiiine On” last year (gig 1,357, a set which nearly earned them Band of the Weekend honours) being followed up by a slightly less focussed but equally impressive set on a rainy March night in Stoke, erm I mean Stroud (gig 1,377). The material (first 3 or 4 albums at least) was always good quality for me – lovelorn lyricism delivered in frontman and founder David Gedge’s trademark throaty growl, overlaid over their trademark punchy, powerful guitar assault – all it needed was some extra added Rachael (their new guitarist) to give it the proper “live” welly it had been sorely lacking for so long. So, I was again up for another Weddoes gig, this one being part of a 40th (!) Anniversary jaunt around these Isles, promising a career-spanning set.

Suffering a bit from the early stages of a cold (or is it the effects of 5 gigs in 9 days, this one making it 6 in 10??), I was happy that it was Stuart’s turn to drive! He collected me a 6 for a drizzly drive down the M4, parking up and hitting a very quiet venue just after doors, easily grabbing a barrier spot, house right. However, this meant we were in place to be subjected to the stylings of support Mozart Estate, on at 10 to 8. Led by Lawrence, apparently an 80’s indie icon due to his tenure with prototypical C86 band Felt (a band that never landed with me personally), they were terrible; the opening number’s combination of repetitive terrace chanted hook and loose baggy dance vibes gave me uncomfortable Happy Mondays flashbacks, and thereafter they veered into twee, throwaway and cheesy vaudevillian cabaret territory, coming across like a poor imitation of Vic Reeves in his 90’s “Mr. Songwriter” mock-club singer days. Lawrence, decked out in orange golf jumper and trucker cap, frankly came off like a poor man’s Mark E Smith at best, and a bit of an entitled pillock at worst, trading off his alleged legend. Nope, nope nope.

The front got a bit busier, but this was generally a quiet one, the balcony remaining closed this evening. However, that didn’t stop this new Wedding Present line-up from taking the stage casually at 5 to 9 and delivering the type of blistering “live” performance I’m happily increasingly seeing from them these days! Following groovy yet slightly understated newie “Two For The Road”, Gedge introduced the band with the tongue-in-cheek epithet, “we’re the semi-legendary Wedding Present, but you knew that already as we’ve started the set with a new song!” thereafter informing us he’d curated the 40^th Anniversary set “in reverse chronological order”. Concerns that my relative unfamiliarity with the more recent material early in the set (and by that, I honestly mean anything past about 1994!) were quickly quashed, however, thanks to the thrilling duelling guitar interplay, particularly during song climaxes and outros, from the original axe thrasher Gedge and his ingenue, the sorcerer’s apprentice Rachael, who (I keep saying, but it’s true) is for me largely responsible for breathing effusive and enthusiastic new life into this veteran outfit. 

So, an early “Rachel” (“[Rachael] likes this one as it makes her sound like Van Halen!” quipped Gedge) sneaked in plaintively before descending into a thrilling thrash noise outro, prompting Gedge to comment, “now we’re rocking!”; “Kansas” had a darker, more mysterious and menacing feel than the usual moody, melancholic material; and a groovy “Click Click”’s layered acapella outro was actually rather lovely. “I’m the worst guitarist in this group!” Gedge remarked, then attempting unsuccessfully to tell the famous Ringo Starr joke, before a brilliant mid-set salvo of “Blue Eyes” and set highlight thus far “Flying Saucer”, its lengthy duelling riff prompting a massive smile from Rachael.

But the latter-set deluge of older, more familiar material won out for me; the stop start change-of-pace “Corduroy” rounded off with a cacophonous, drum led outro; a debate on how “Brassneck” should be pronounced preceded a breathless, mosh-inducing rendition, segueing directly into a bolshy and combative “Kennedy”; then “Everyone Thinks He Looks Daft” saw us pitching up in 1987 and that original ringing descending guitar riffery. An excellent set, this backwards trip through time, ended with thanks, band intros and the proto-DIY indie punk debut “Go Out And Get ‘Em Boy”. Bassist Stuart then handed me his list, which I got signed by the merch stand bound Gedge afterwards, the man also selling me a 40^th Anniversary tee shirt (my first Weddoes shirt!). Also picked up a gift from my photog mate Martin, before we hit a sodden M4 for a splash back home. Another great night out from this rejuvenated Wedding Present!

1,407 COACH PARTY, Oxford Jericho Tavern, Wednesday 1st October 2025

 

The third of 3 gigs in a row for me, and 5^th of 6 in 10 days! Retirement, shmetirement… this was actually a late addition to my Autumn Dance Card, as it happened; we’d already booked tix to see current “live” faves, flippant IOW indie popsters Coach Party, on the “Dirty Boat” next February, as part of their actual tour promoting the release of sophomore album “Caramel”. However, I was keeping an eye out for one of those Record Release tours as well, and this one, when announced, passed through Bristol and Oxford. Yay! Unfortunately the Brizzle Rough Trade date clashed with Sleeper and Rialto at Bristol Electric last week (given the 2 venues are practically opposite each other, I did give some thought to doing both, but even the quickest first-in-the-queue getaway from RT would have meant missing Rialto’s set), so t’was a return to my old 80’s/ early 90’s haunt The Jericho, for a Truck Records outstore performance instead!

Picked Paul up just after 6 for the usual winding route to Oxford, debating the format of tonight’s performance, given that a few recent “outstore” gigs (Inhaler, Lottery Winners earlier this year) had been a bit “extra”, i.e. support bands and all. However, tonight’s format, we discovered on arrival at 7 (after finally working out the parking protocol in the nearby streets) was a CP set at 8 and signing afterwards, so more like the Rough Trade “instores” I attend! Grabbed a drink and a chat, soaking in the atmosphere of this dingy yet evocative old venue, scene of previous 80’s/ 90’s gigs by Pulp, Heart Throbs, A House et al (and of course The Parachute Men, hosts here 4 times), before wandering down for a house left spot by the mixing desk. 

The Coach Party folks themselves squeezed through the crowd to take the stage at 8, opening with new album leadoff track, the punkish building choral hook of “Do It For Love”, kinetic vocalist Jess Eastwood’s deadpan verse snark and scalded cat choral yelp a feature throughout. “Georgina”, next up, was tremendous; a groovy, metronomic indie rhythm again building to an impressive, yearning and octave straddling choral hook, some proper progression and development in their songwriting already evident after this opening double-whammy. Sounding great too, the Jericho sound system precise and crystal clear. “Have you bought the new album?” asked guitarist Steph, repeating that request 3 times as apparently our response was so poor! 

Tonight’s set was therefore a complete run-through of the new album, albeit in slightly rejigged order, presumably to road-test the material for the tour proper. If so, I’d suggest on tonight’s evidence they could throw all this new stuff in the set, and it’d easily stack up with what’s becoming an increasingly impressive canon of work. “Control” was a moodier psych workout with a slashing Hives-like underlying guitar riff; “Fake It” and “I Really Like You” (the latter being, “the only positive song on the record!” according to Jess) referenced the early 90’s with Smashing Pumpkins-esque drum patterns underpinning a distinctly brooding and understated slacker laze rock vibe; and “Disco Dream” (Paul’s favourite!) ramped up the pace a few million mph, its jagged and ragged hurtle culminating in an anthemic, fist-pumping choral chant from Jess, throwing herself about the stage with carefree abandon. 

“Could we be any looser?” inquired Jess, jogging on the spot before a brash, punkish “Medicate”, before the more angular new wave/ Britpop feel of “Do Yourself A Favour” preceded a lengthy shout out for their manager Jonathan, lurking in the bar around the corner. “We could be in the charts! Thank you so much for helping us!” gushed the effusive Steph, before the strident, anthemic in-your-face rant of squally, attitude-loaded closer “Girls” rounded off a brash, breathless 45 minutes. All the lists went early to the front rows, or so I thought… Paul and I took a speculative look down the front, noticing a random bit of paper on Joe’s keyboard which turned out to be his list! Result! This put us at the back of the queue for the meet and greet, however it moved swiftly and we grabbed quick chats, compliments, signed CDs and a pic with an as-ever accommodating bunch. Back in the car swiftly thereafter and home after dropping Paul off at an early 10.15, in plenty of time to watch a bit of the Red Sox baseball playoffs! So, another great Coach Party night; some excellent new material on a potential AOTY candidate in “Caramel”, the band developing and advancing their sound with additional hints of slacker grunge, post-punk and even Britpop, and ready to rock the “Dirty Boat” next February!

1,406 EDWYN COLLINS, The Hanging Stars, Bath Komedia, Tuesday 30th September 2025

 

“A Last Lap Around The UK” was the enticing strapline for this one, a 2025 Testimonial Tour for veteran indie pop icon Edwyn Collins. As a teen emerging from the seismic effects of punk, I’d latched on to his nascent ramshackle DIY post-punk band Orange Juice with their initial clutch of independent singles (the heady rush of “Blue Boy” being my favourite) and saw them “live” a couple of times in the early 80’s (gig no’s 7 and 22!). However, his subsequent solo material, more soulful, crafted and mainstream than that early youthful DIY ebullience, largely left me unmoved, so our paths rarely crossed thereafter. His brush with death in 2005 due to a cerebral haemorrhage was awful news, and I was subsequently gratified (and honestly a little astonished) to see him 9 years later, on Record Store Day 2014 (gig 912), still clearly physically suffering from the after-effects of this episode, yet still able to sing in his wavering, sonorous baritone.

I’d been meaning to catch one of his understandably infrequent tours since then, so when the subject of this seemingly final tour came up over the curry table with a group of long-standing friends, plans were made for an afternoon and evening out in Bath! I picked Paul up at 2.30, thereafter scooping up Colin and Ben, thus amazingly completing the same quartet who’d travelled to Chippenham in 1984 for that Orange Juice gig 22! Met old friend Mike there and caught up over a meal and drinks in The Salamander pub, hitting the venue for just after 7. We’d barely got our bearings in this wonderfully ornate venue (my wandering down onto the floor, leaving the boys debating who was going to buy what colour Postcard cat t-shirt from the merch stand!) before support The Hanging Stars joined us at an early 7.15. Coming across from the outset like a support band from a 70’s “Whisky A Go Go” bill, or the house band at a Laurel Canyon druggy Summer lock-in, their opener “Let Me Dream Of You” had a late-period Velvet Crush hazy countrified vibe; the slower “Radio On” was a proper “Sweetheart Of The Rodeo” Byrds throwback; and given this sonic template, it was no surprise to hear Teenage Fanclub’s Gerard Love had produced their Beatles-esque new single “Sister In The Sun”. I’m usually a sucker for bands like this, but this was nice, harmonic but largely forgettable stuff, a chunkier Diesel Park West-esque rocker “Let It Slide” the best of an okay opening set.

I ran into gig buddy Jeremy and his wife Becky a couple of rows behind me, so had company for the Main Event; an early 10 past 8 saw the lights dim and the band take to the stage, then Edwyn, slowly, leaning on his stick but still with a pronounced limp, being helped to centre stage by a roadie to a welcoming chair. However, whereas the body was still bearing those afore-mentioned after-effects, the mind was still sharp, Edwyn announcing in his slow, halting speaking tones, “let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” the band then starting up the opening build to Orange Juice’s classic proto-DIY indie single, “Falling And Laughing”… 

And I’m pleased – nay, overjoyed – to report The Voice was largely still there too; rich, sonorous and soulful, and more effective in the lower register (Edwyn apologising early on, saying, “I’ve lost my voice so I’m singing low…”), a little shaky on occasion but overall to be expected, and received with hushed devotion. And if the odd line or phrase was mumbled rather than sung, that was also overlooked by this knowledgeable and understanding audience. “FAL” was just great, a thing of joy and wonder; an early “Make Me Feel Again” a fine melancholy 50’s tinged soda bar ballad; and the Summery newie “Knowledge” the best of his solo numbers at this early stage, Edwyn acknowledging the applause with a soft, “thank you,” and a wry, crooked grin. But thereafter, the Orange Juice numbers (comprising exactly half of tonight’s set) held sway… “What Presence”’s squalling intro ceded to its’ ticking rhythm and wry wordplay; the rolling drumbeat of a gauche yet charming “Simply Thrilled Honey” was, simply, thrilling; and the funky Motown-lite “I Can’t Help Myself” led into the squashy synth and wah wah of a languid yet singalong “Rip It Up”. Edwyn then stood for the final 2 set numbers, his best-known solo efforts of the countrified “Don’t Shilly Shally” and the understated soulful menace of “A Girl Like You”, limping off stage to an ovation as the band played on.

A four-song encore saw the breezy verse and driving hook of “Felicity” followed by final number, the off-kilter ramshackle joy of my personal favourite “Blue Boy”, Edwyn again leaving the stage first. A wander back to the car and circuitous drop-offs saw everyone home before midnight, albeit maybe not in the order everyone wanted! But hey ho… A great evening out in fantastic company, on and off stage; if this was indeed the last lap, the man has gone out on his own terms, with style and panache. Good health, Edwyn, we’ll miss you “live” but thank you for leaving us with a proper celebration of both you and your songs!

1,405 BELLY, Bristol Trinity, Monday 29th September 2025

 

I’m really mining a 90’s indie pop seam at the moment; after Britpop roustabouts Sleeper and Rialto last time out, here’s a welcome return to my Dance Card for Boston MA college pop/ dreampop faves Belly! I’d seen them 5 times back in the day, as main inspiration Tanya Donelly split from her half-sister Kristen Hersh’s band Throwing Muses in order to form Belly as a vehicle for her smoother and less jagged, yet still quirky and off-kilter material, and a further 3 times since their mid-20teens reunion, including of course on that stellar ACLU Benefit bill in their adopted hometown back in 2017 (gig 1,028). They’d not crossed the pond since Covid, however, and this tour also represented a 30^th Anniversary Celebration of their sophomore and final first-time-round album, “King”, which introduced a harder-edged, rockier and more dissonant element to their aural candyfloss, courtesy primarily of the rock stylings of Gail Greenwood. I’d seen “GFG”, as the Boston rock illuminati know her, putting in a stellar, typically low-slung shift with the Gang Of Four on my 60^th birthday in June (gig 1,393, probably my favourite gig of the year to date) so I knew she was in good form, so let’s hope Tanya and the Gorman boys are as up for it as well…

Rach joined us for an early trip down the M4; advertised as “An Evening With Belly”, there was no support and a prompt 8 p.m. start for the first of 2 sets, so we parked up in a loading bay on Old Market Street (OK at this time!) and joined a long queue about 7.30. Into this evocative old church venue and the first surprise of the night, with Gang Of Four’s esteemed vocalist Jon King there! Grabbed a pic and a word with the great man, as I was sporting a GO4 tee too! Evening made, and we’re not even properly in the venue! Got a drink for Rach and found a decent viewing spot a few rows back, house left, for Belly’s entrance prompt at 8 under heavy purple lights. Immediately the dichotomy of this band was apparent, with a soft, “hello…” from the demure and understated vocalist Tanya, and GFG immediately taking on the role of rabble rouser with a forceful, “yeah, whassup Bristol!!” Straight into opener “Puberty”, the tumbling drum opening ceding to the dreamy verse and some powerful off-mic choral work from Tanya. “Welcome to “King”’s 30^th Anniversary!” announced Gail at its conclusion, alluding to some health issues with, “it’s like an infirmary up here!”

It became apparent that this wasn’t a throwaway comment; Tanya’s mid-range vocals often sounded a little flat and the sound and overall mix was often a little ragged and muddy, a post-gig chat with Dave (Gail’s friend whom I’d met at the front at that GO4 gig, and who was following the tour around, Bristol being his 6^th (!) tour gig) revealing the band were suffering from colds. Nonetheless, they powered through, delivering a determined and purposeful performance, and Tanya’s high-register vocals were largely spot-on. And the ebullient, kinetic Gail was the visual focus, announcing, “Tanya and I are like rotisserie hot dogs up here [under the lights]!”, giving a shout out to Gang Of Four (“the greatest band in the history of rock’n’roll!”) and challenging the sound guys to give, “a little more love in the monitors!” The first set, a “King” chronological run-through, raced by, with the gallop of “Seal My Fate” and raw, ragged and even punkish “Superconnected” early highlights, the smooth harmonies of a later “Now They’ll Sleep” the best-sounding number to that point, but the closing, eerie slow-burn of “Judas My Heart”, ultimately my first set highlight. 

I’d spotted my Bristol friend Keeley just in front of us during the interval; she came over for a chat and joined us for a better sounding set 2. “I know it’s a douchebag move to open for yourself, but what the fuck, right?” queried Gail before the haunting, red-backlit beetle-crushing stomp of “Low Red Moon”. An early “Gepetto” was a lovely, lush and layered swayalong; the subsequent “Slow Dog” with its’ dramatic descent into the thunderous and strident choral hook, was startling; and the equally venerable “Dusted” (preceded by a seemingly lengthy bass exploration by Gail for the brown note (!)) was a breathless punkish blast. But “Feed The Tree”, inevitably, was the upbeat set high point, this archetype 90’s college alt-pop number turning into a rousing singalong. The loose, almost Madchester baggy vibe of “Shiny One” segued into a moody, darker cover of Hendrix’s “Are You Experienced” to close out the set, the band returning for some well-received vocal gymnastics from Tanya on the off-kilter “Fully Moon, Empty Heart”.

Another ridiculously easy list, a brief chat about the Shiela Divine with drummer Chris Gorman, then farewells to Keeley and a quick drive back, home just after 11. So overall, despite a few medical (and slight sound) issues, Belly delivered a fine, slightly ragged but well-rocking night out for Rach and myself!