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!





No comments:

Post a Comment