1,410 IDLEWILD, Humour, Bristol O2 Academy, Wednesday 15th October 2025

 

October 2005; Rachel and I got married on the 1^st, then embarked on a 2-centre honeymoon in California. We’d already noticed that windswept and epic Scots indie lot Idlewild – whom we’d recently latched onto, thanks to their defining classic 2002 “The Remote Part” album and 2005’s follow-up, “Warnings/ Promises”, and had already seen “live” 3 times that year – were playing in San Francisco when we were in town, and had booked tix for that one (gig 677). However, we were also gratified to note, on subsequent arrival into Los Angeles, that they’d taken the same Big Sur route South, and were in town as well! So, a couple more Idlewild gigs in LA (an in-store Long Beach set, gig 679, and a drunken punk rock rampage, gig 681) made them our official “Honeymoon Soundtrack”! 20 years on virtually to the day (well, 3 days difference…) from that final LA gig, and it’s only fitting that Rachel and I are back again for more, this time more locally, as part of a tour for their new, 10^th, eponymous and likely best-since “W/P” release!

We sorted the kids out then headed off down a dusky M4, parking up in Trenchard and hitting a surprisingly quiet venue at 7.15, in plenty of time then to grab the usual house-right bit of barrier to lean on. The time wildly idled by until openers Humour took the stage at 8. Their opener eased in with some eerie and taut one-note post-punk/ gothy noise, before they brought the noise for the chorus. This set the tone for a dark, dramatic and caustic yet bludgeoning set of grungy noise, smothering some decent and apparently well-constructed material. A harder-rocking, My Vitriol-esque squalling number was introduced as ““Learning Greek”, and it’s about learning Greek…”; the older “Pure Misery” was a slower death march with the babbling vocalist (whom I wasn’t absolutely sure of throughout) speaking/ singing in tongues; and “Dirty Bread” was a more robust and, dare I say, tuneful cavalry charge. Overall, I’m glad I took some Anadin for a burgeoning headache before departure, as a lot of this felt like a pummelling with dirty noise, but there was enough resonant post-punk touches to suggest that under the murk, something is shining…

Chatted with a guy down the front (well, Rach did, mostly!), before Idlewild filed on, dead on 9, to cheers from the now busy Academy. The unmistakeable angular drumbeat of a deadpan understated “Roseability” kicked off proceedings, a softly spoken Roddy then welcoming us at its conclusion, giving a plug for the new album before a harder-edged, slightly pacier “Like I Had Before” became the first of a smattering of the new album material. The moody, slightly morose intro to oldie “Actually It’s Darkness” then ceded to its big yearning guitar-led choral hook, with both guitarists flanking Roddy’s centre stage position and jumping about like junior Zebedee’s (particularly Rod, far left, already hopping on and off monitors with gusto!), the vocalist already regularly wandering to the stage side to give them visual prominence.

“I think we’ve played here [in this venue] once before…” mused Roddy, some wag down the front (OK, me…!) replying with, “2005!” Roddy affirming with, “yes, 2005, “Warnings/ Promises” tour…” (yes indeed, gig 655!). “Little Discourage”’s dissonant opening hook and fist-pimping chorus was an early highlight; “Live In A Hiding Place”, a track I often overlook, was plaintive and really rather lovely, with shades of “Murmur”-era R.E.M., immediately juxtaposed by the more determined rock riffery of a strident “Ghost In The Arcade”; and the undulating and elegiac “Let Me Sleep” (“a hopeful song we wrote in our 20s!” according to Roddy) received a rare airing. “You’re a lovely bunch, [all] smiling back at me…” noted Roddy before a singalong and pretty bloody epic “American English”, then a blistering “I Am What I Am Not” (“our existential crisis anthem,” according to Roddy) blew the doors off and pre-empted the encore a little… Prior to which, a slightly cluttered “When I Argue I See Shapes” led into the slow burn intro of set closer “The Remote Part”, the climactic build topped off with the usual radio transmissions to close.

A great set, but the encore was pure punk rock, Roddy stating, “we’re going to play some fast ones!” before a brilliant, breathless set highlight “You Held The World In Your Arms” saw a slew of beach ball globes bounced around in the mosh! An unplanned, rampant and gabbling “Everyone Thinks That You’re So Fragile” preceded the savage slashing riffery of “Modern Way Of Letting Go”, then the discordant 4-alarm blare of “Film For The Future” rounded off another great Idlewild set which built up steam throughout, effervescently popping like a cork for the punk rock encore. A quick list, a quick exit and home by 11.30. 20 years on, we’re still going strong, and happily so are Idlewild, giving us a perfect Anniversary present!

1,409 MAISIE PETERS, Nell Mescal, London Hackney EartH Theatre, Thursday 9th October 2025

 

Well, here’s something outside of my musical wheelhouse, as often is the case with the daughter of the house… One of Jami’s favourite “pop” vocalists Maisie Peters (whom J had seen supporting Taylor Swift on the Eras tour last year, and who had sold out Wembley Arena in her own right on her last tour) announced a couple of short notice, “intimate” gigs over at Hackney’s EartH venue, to premiere some new material in front of a small but devoted audience, and Jami wanted “in” on them. Tix went on pre-sale on Monday so I jumped on them toot sweet, waiting in a small queue but snagging a couple quickly. Good thing too, as apparently the general sale 2 days later all sold out in a minute! Yikes!

We went for day 1 Thursday as it was better for Jami’s college schedule; so, the excited offspring and I set off about 2.45, parking in Osterley before an easier-than-feared underground/ overground trek to Hackney, joining the queue at 5.30, 2 hours before doors (!). Jami chatted with Becca, a fellow fan who’d flown down from her home near Loch Ness (!) and whom Jami had been chatting with on the online MP “Discord Chat Community. Because that’s apparently how kids these days do that; me, I just go up to someone at the front and say, “cool t-shirt, mate…!” EartH itself is a 2-room venue, with May-May in the 680-capacity Theatre and twee indie bunch Allo Darlin’, surprisingly, in the larger Hall tonight (my mate Stu being at that one!). As I was rocking a Wedding Present tshirt and my Smiths shirt, I clearly looked out of place queueing for Maisie, as at least 3 blokes asked me if our queue was for Allo Darlin, or was I in the wrong queue altogether!

Eventually we headed in at 7.30, getting our stamps for entry into the Theatre itself, then Jami going back for a merch run in the lobby. My mission was therefore to hold a space down the front of this wooden tiered amphitheatre style venue, the “floor” itself being only about 3 or 4 rows wide! Jami got back in good time for support Nell Mescal, on at 8.15. Flanked by 2 acoustic guitarists, she warbled her way through a clutch of understated pastoral numbers with a slight alt-country feel, mainly on the subject of convoluted relationships. A couple of later numbers had an almost Celtic, atmospheric Clannad vibe to them and were pretty decent actually, but the set felt overlong and ran over May-May’s scheduled 8.45 start…

So, a quick turnaround was called for; luckily the roadies just had to unplug the guitars, take the cover off the keyboards and bring on a small side table with a vase of flowers on it! So the lights dimmed promptly at 5 past 9 to screams from the young and overwhelmingly female (or AFAB at least) massive, with the very tiny Maisie buoyantly following her 4-piece band on stage after a “Before The Bloom” spoken word intro. Pastoral country opener “Love Him I Don’t” immediately saw a mass singalong break out, Maisie encouraging this off-mic, then the jolly snarky diss pop of “Lost The Breakup” was followed by Maisie gushingly thanking her devotees, “for selling this place out in under a minute!” 

Totally not my thing, this, of course, but I can obviously appreciate the connection Maisie engenders with her young fans, speaking to them in their language about coming of age, feeling isolated, issues they’re all facing, during oft-lengthy between-song expositions. Also, like her clear role model Tay-Tay, May-May writes her own stuff; mainstream pop, sure, but often thoughtful and well-constructed. An early “Place We Were Made” was a wistful and contemplative hymn to home; the new “You You You” was a proper old melancholy wallow; and oldie “History Of Man” was an understated and brooding treatise on relationships through the ages. Good old misery stuff, sure, but all received with joyful and lengthy acclaim.

The bouncier and upbeat “There It Goes” rounded off a brief vignette of a set, not quite breaking the hour mark, the set brevity and plethora of new numbers meaning my favourite “The Band And I” didn’t get an airing. Yeah, I’ve got a favourite Maisie Peters song – get over it! We hung around afterwards for setlists, but apparently (and understandably) they were being reused for night 2! So, a quick wander back to the Dalston overground saw us jump on a tube at Highbury and Islington just as it was departing – or so we thought… a “customer incident” delayed its’ departure, so it was utterly sardine rammed when we left, a lady thankfully giving up a seat for my visibly agitated daughter. Then, when it got going, the lights cut out for 2 stops! Yikes! We changed at Green Park, hoping that was the end of our adventures, only to be forced to change again as our apparently Heathrow-bound train inexplicably turned into the Uxbridge train en route! Then, after hitting the M4 for a swift drive home (we hoped), J12-J13 motorway closures saw us tramping along winding Berkshire country lanes for ages, finally getting home at a red-eyed 1.10. Double yikes! No surprise then that Jami didn’t emerge the next morning until nearly 1 p.m., but the verdict was, it was worth all the hassle. So, hooray for that, and overall a very successful Maisie Peters daddy-daughter night out… I’m guessing we might be back for the new album tour next year…

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!

1,404 SLEEPER, RIALTO, Bristol Electric, Friday 26th September 2025

 

Seems like I’ve been here before… Gig 368, waaaay back in 1998 in fact, when an upcoming bunch of widescreen cinematic urban popsters supported a knockabout indie-Britpop combo clearly on their down-and-outs, and destined to split up barely weeks afterwards. Yup, t’was indeed Rialto and Sleeper, and in my own backyard at Swindon’s Oasis! 27 years on, both bands have scratched that reunion itch, Sleeper rediscovering the ebullient pop fizz of their early days with a couple of inconsistent if fun “Shiiine On” sets, and Rialto returning likewise with a splendid “Shiiine On” showing, followed by a stylish, stylistically scattergun yet intelligently crafted new album in this year’s “Neon And Ghost Signs”. So, when Sleeper decided to invite their erstwhile 90’s support band along on this tour, celebrating the 30^th anniversary of their career-defining Britpop hit “Inbetweener”, this went from “hmmm” to “yup” quite quickly for me, and I grabbed tix accordingly.

Not just a “yup” for me, either, as Stuart and Matt both fancied it too, Matt breaking off a works event in Farnborough to pop across for the gig. He came to ours, then we picked Stu up for the usual trip down to Brizzle, diverting to Nelson Street car park as Rupert Street’s entry scanners were playing up, so getting in to the recently rebadged SWX upstairs room just before 7. Rialto were scheduled for an unusually early 7.15, so we quickly got spots a couple of rows back, house right, as Louis led the boys onstage. Opening with a couple of deep cuts from their splendid eponymous 1998 debut in the languid, Beatles-psych harmonies of “Dream Another Dream” and a more upbeat yet plaintive “Hard Candy”, they were then quickly in their stride, Louis announcing, “if anyone knows us, you know this one..” by way of introduction for a stately, sweeping and chorally skyscraping early “Untouchable”. Great start! 

Plucking equally from that debut and this year’s newie, this was again a stylish, urbane and effortlessly cool set from one of the more left-field yet worthwhile comeback kings of late. A beautiful “Summer’s Over” evoked hazy Summer twilights; “Put You On Hold”, my favourite new one, was a Pulp-esque sweeping yet moody piece; and the dramatic storytelling of “Monday Morning 5.19” was tonight’s overall highlight. “I hate audience participation!” Louis announced, tongue in cheek, before calling for a “la la la” backing singalong to the kitsch, Kylie-esque closer “No-One Leaves This Discotheque Alive”, rounding off another elegant set, delivered with style and class from an increasing “live” staple for me… 3^rd time this year!

Bassist Julian handed me his list; then I popped for a loo break and grabbed a quick chat with Julian and his singer on the merch stand, before squeezing back to my suddenly busy front spot. Sleeper duly came on prompt at 9.30, vocalist Louise taking the stage last, then plunging into the breathy and energetic circular riff of bouncy indiepop opener “Bedhead”. Sadly for me the subsequent numbers didn’t keep that momentum, despite Louise’s kinetic and effervescent presence, and even my favourite “Delicious” (introduced by Lou as, “for the women in the room – it’s always been your song!”) felt a little flat following that irresistible opening riff. This gig, so far as I was concerned, needed a bit of a jolt… 

Happily, one arrived, with “Pyrotechnician” a fine slab of fizzy, gnarly indie, with Lou’s slower introductory vocal building anticipation, kicking off the set proper for me. “What Do I Do Now”, shortly thereafter, was a rousing singalong and the best-received of the set thus far; the excellent “Lie Detector” railed against female stereotyping; and a darker, brooding divorce revenge song, “More Than I Do” was the best of the variable post-reunion material by some distance. And throughout Louise was a consummate performer, knowing her audience and engaging and involving them, far from her snarky and slightly haughty 90’s persona.

The undulating disco pulse of Blondie’s “Atomic”, again with the “Love Will Tear Us Apart” mid-number singalong, was splendid; then a stripped back late-night torch song version of “Vegas” precipitated a 3-song encore including lively singalongs for the Britpop anthems “Inbetweener” and “Sale Of The Century”. A ridiculously easy Sleeper list, then I ran into Gloucester friend Simon and wife Sarah, before a quick dash home for Matt to get back to his work event. Logan and his mate Ethan were still working on Logan’s bike, so chatted before turning in. Good stuff from Sleeper, better than I’d feared after a couple of ponderous openers, and they stacked up better against Rialto than that 1998 Oasis gig! One to catch at “Shiiine On” this year, then… Overall, although Rialto shaded it for me, this was a fun night out and a fine indie-Britpop double bill!

1,403 THE BETHS, Dateline, Bristol O2 Academy, Wednesday 24th September 2025

 

Given that they’d followed a remarkably similar gig trajectory on my previous Dance Cards – intriguing support slot discovery, small venue headliner, upgrading to the Fleece and then SWX – it was only a matter of time that New Zealand’s The Beths and/or Vancouver’s Alvvays would graduate to Bristol Academy headliner. Question was, which one first? Well, it turned out to be Elizabeth Stokes’ spritely bunch of Antipodean helium punky-popsters, announcing their biggest UK tour yet in support of 4^th album “Straight Line Was A Lie”. More introspective and less immediate than the upbeat and Summery jangle-pop harmonies of their previous releases, this one’s been taking time to land with me; however repeated listens have started to reveal some well-crafted, intelligent and mature (yes the dreaded “m” word!) songwriting, and some particular heartstring-tuggers. Just maybe need a “live” showing to really hammer it home for me, as they’ve never disappointed in that environment thus far. Oh, wait…!

So, I hit the road for that familiar M4 jaunt to Brizzle, getting there about 20 minutes after doors. Managed to get a spot one row back, house left, in this very quiet, early doors venue. Ropes up across the balcony steps as well got me a bit concerned; has this step up to the bigger venue happened too soon? Anyhoops, on at 8 were the support, fellow Zealanders Dateline; a two boy, two girl outfit who opened their set with a couple of pacey slabs of jangly indie-pop, all well and good but sailing a bit too close to their headliners for me. However, after some nervous banter from the vocalist about raiding Bristol’s vintage shops and developing a whisky habit to get through the shows (!), a few harder edged and noisier numbers provided some separation; the obligatory Pixies-ish death march number was followed by a hectic, hard-hitting “Wishing” and a darker, squally reverb drenched “Little Charmer” which was best-of-set for me. A decent if slightly generic set ended with one final pounding pop number, before the singer departed to call her 4-year-old daughter! Ahhhh…

Took a look around and noted that the place had considerably filled up during the support, and the balcony was open too! Debated this point and had a nice chat about music and neuro-diversity with a lovely lady down the front whose name I didn’t catch (sorry!), before the Beths emerged at 9 pm. Kicking into their stride early with the title track of their current album, opener “Straight Line Was A Lie” was a slice of plangent pop, building up a head of steam throughout, with the darker, more monotone “No Joy” following in short order, guitarist Jonathan Pearce and bassist Ben Sinclair embellishing this number’s middle 8 with toy plastic recorders! Oldie “Future Me Hates Me”, powered by that old “Buck Rogers” riff into its joyfully undulating singalong chorus was an early highlight, vocalist Elizabeth Stokes incredulously remarking at its conclusion, “look how many of you there are! We played this room in 2019 with Death Cab For Cutie (yes they did and I was there – gig 1,120!) and thought, these boys have made it!” 

Any concerns that The Beths weren’t ready for this step up were quickly dispelled, the band delivering a warm-hearted, varied and well-paced career-spanning set, albeit firmly focussing on the new material, which as hoped, was largely excellent “live”. Also, some relaxed and entertaining between-song banter enlivened matters throughout, from a lengthy band intro focussing on “data points”, to a recurring theme of the boys encountering a squirrel on their day out in Bristol! As for the music… “Metal”’s understated melodic jangle ceded to a stark and lovely Death Cab-esque alt-pop “Till My Heart Stops”, an early highlight; Elizabeths subsequent solo heartbreaking “Mother Pray For Me” elicited possibly the longest applause of the night; and a pacey and undulating “Happy/ Unhappy” saw the mood bounce back strongly thereafter. However, my highlight was a late-set duo of the amphetamine-fast “Little Death” and punchy punk powerpop of “I’m Not Getting Excited”, both delivered with speeded-up Animal drumrolls from sticksman Tristan Deck”, and nineteen-to-the-dozen stream of consciousness vocals from Elizabeth. Breathless and brilliant!

“Get your last heckles in!” announced Elizabeth, before the smooth melody and excellent band harmonies (a feature throughout) of “Expert In A Dying Field” rounded off a splendid 1 ½ hour+ set, the band returning for a slightly discordant outlier in “Take”. No joy on the list tonight; nobody came onstage to start unpacking before I (and the other final stragglers) was ushered out! Bah! Still, some days you get the bear etc. etc… Didn’t distract from a fine night which proved The Beths were ready for that graduation to the big stage. Well done folks; in your own words, you boys (and girl) have made it! Alvvays for the step-up next then…

1,402 PENFRIEND, Carol Hodge, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Thursday 18th September 2025

 

After the Swindon Shuffle last weekend, it’s back to the distaff run… this time the return of an old friend to my Dance Card, albeit under a new guise! I’d seen and enjoyed She Makes War, the then-vehicle for the grunge/ dreampop/ college rock stylings of DIY musician Laura Kidd, a trio of occasions in that immediate pre-Covid period, including on very apposite support slots with Desperate Journalist and Juliana Hatfield (that Jools support, gig 1,138 in May 2019 being the last time our paths had crossed). Since then, Laura’s activity had included a move to a slightly more thoughtful, introspective musical output and a name change to Penfriend reflecting this, a personal move from Bristol to Nottingham, but absolutely zip by way of “live” performances, this seemingly being a deliberate move on Laura’s part to detox herself from the utter faff of touring as an independent artist. Fair enough, I guess. Until…

Announcing a sophomore Penfriend album, the understated yet splendidly hooky and chorally harmonic “House Of Stories”, Laura arranged a one-off date in her now-native Notts, followed by a quartet of September dates, one in her previous Bristol stomping grounds. Noise from the artist herself suggested this mini tour might also be a one-off, never to be repeated, so I booked for a potentially final opportunity to see one of the most fiercely uncompromising artists of recent times, a true punk rocker in attitude if not in musical style. Thusly, I set off about 6.30 into the low setting sun down the M4, parking up and joining the clutch of friends and fans (many sporting She Makes War tees) in the RT back room for opener Carol Hodge at 7.45. A striking tousled brunette in billowing black dress, she announced herself as, “from Huddersfield, I’m Pisces, and I only have 7 fingers… so of course I play piano for a living!” This wry and self-deprecating attitude extended into her very listenable set, the upbeat opener “Moan Of 1,000 Years” a hooky, vaguely 70’s tinged new wavey table-setter, followed by “You Can’t Dream Enough”, a more plaintive paean to her time living out of her car, and an equally introspective “Queen Of Settling In”, documenting her recent neuro-divergency discovery and subsequent self-awareness journey. Shot through with a similar DIY punk attitude to the headliner (no surprise, given Ms. Hodge lends keys to Crass’ Steve Ignorant as her side hustle!), and featuring a big, strident and dynamic voice that could strip rust off the inside of a drainpipe (!), this was a fine and thought-provoking opening set highlighted with a fine “Silhouette”, a brooding social commentary piece recalling Scott Walker’s Jacques Brel material. Nicely done! 

“This is the first Penfriend gig in Bristol! Sorry it took so long – I didn’t want to do it!” confessed Laura on taking the stage for her headlining set, a quick 15-minute turnaround later. The eerie pastoral tones of old SMW number “Scared To Capsize” eased the set in, Laura swapping between guitar and ukulele and two-handing this set with Carol on keyboard embellishments, so subsequently making occasional use of tape loops to flesh the sound out. I’m not normally a fan of these, but I must admit they added extra harmonic depth to the performance and were well received by this supportive and loyal crowd. Laura appreciated their/ our response too, commenting, “since my last gig I’ve learned to accept applause as thanks!”

With this more relaxed approach, Laura delivered an engaging and inclusive performance, with lots of stop-start, stream-of-consciousness, off-the-cuff banter, bonhomie and audience interaction with the devotees (including one fan who’d seen her “live” 73 times!). And, in between subjects as diverse as Gloucester Services, ripped dresses necessitating a late switch to trousers, and feeling giant whilst playing the uke (!) the music was pretty cool too; “Emotional Tourist”, shorn of the swathes of electronica on record, took on a darker, gothier tone with a tinge of Taylor Swift’s revenge break-up material; “Seashaken” required 2 takes but was lovely, with “Automatic”-era R.E.M-esque keys from Carol; and a looped acapella “Delete” was baroque and almost madrigal-like, earning the biggest and longest cheer of the night. 

A couple of rockier moments from Laura’s recent Obey Robots project with Rat from Ned’s Atomic Dustbin were late highlights; then a charming, dreamy and relaxed 1½ hours ended with Laura switching on the disco lights, announcing “I’m Laura and I’ve just bared my soul to you!” and closing matters with a twinkling “Disco Loadout”. Brief chats afterwards with both performers (chatting about Crass with Carol, and Laura referring to me as a very patient man!) before I hit the road, home at 11.30. Great to see Laura treading the boards after so long; let’s hope she makes good on a late-set promise to return next year…!

1,401 THE 2025 SWINDON SHUFFLE, Swindon The Hop, The Victoria and The Beehive, Thursday 11th to Sunday 14th September 2025

It’s Swindon Shuffle time again! This multi-venue, multi-night charity-focussed local event, conceived by my old mate Rich Craven as Swindon’s answer to the Camden Crawl and shining a light on the musical talent available in the ‘don, had been shamefully absent from my Dance Card for 3 years for a variety of reasons, but mainly due to the demise of my local faves Raze*Rebuild. With nothing else local really grabbing me by the ‘nads and depositing me on the dancefloor like Si’s blue-collar popcore rockers did, I allowed myself to drift a bit from the goings-on within my very own town. However, with a smattering of intriguing local acts that I’d been meaning to check out, plus a couple of old faves and one surprising Big Name (well, at least for The Shuffle!) on this year’s bill, it felt time to end my self-imposed absence…

Starting with the (musical) opening night on Thursday, and a run of checkable-outable acts on at the upstairs room of The Hop. I drove up the hill early doors and parked in Britannia Place behind the venue, greeting Linda, manning the merch, and popping upstairs to join the early comers for openers AQABA, on at 7.15. A veteran Bath unit, this lot, I have to confess I didn’t hear too many of the supposed Death Cab/ National US alt-rock influences in their sound, but what I did hear was intriguing; some taut, brooding rhythms on opener “Girls On Glass”, then some more upbeat keyboard embellished jangly 70’s new wave and more understated melancholic pop on subsequent tracks. A couple of bum notes too, but to be expected from this evening’s opening act, which I cut short as I needed to return a call from my brother. 

Stepped back in via a chat with old mate Andy, for SEBASTIAN AND ME, next up. This was immediately much more the ticket, and right in my 90’s alt-rock wheelhouse; “Keep On Running” was an anthemic slice of Dinosaur/ Superchunk laze alt-rock, and “Love Conquers All” featured some nice choral harmonies from this Devizes lot, along with some more sweeping and widescreen middle 8 guitar work. “I Wanted You To Know”, apparently a recent release, recalled early Teenage Fanclub in its chunky ascending guitar pattern and mid-song harmony break, and overall this was a heartfelt emotive rock set played with attention, purpose and no shortage of talent, culminating in the band exhorting a mate to add the “la la la”s on closer “Typical Boy”. Good stuff from a band whose overall sonic template would have seen them fitting right in with TFC, Posies and even my faves Gigolo Aunts in that 90’s post-grunge era… 

Took a break in the pub downstairs, running into old Posse mate Rog, in town for the Shuffle! Popped back upstairs for the more popular SOBER SUNDAYS; a younger band (clearly with plenty of mates in the crowd!), I liked the slow-burn, heartfelt number about the singer’s older brother, which ultimately proved an outlier to their usual oeuvre of bouncy, taut, tempo-changing almost funk based pop with occasional pastoral interludes and brief nods to knockabout Britpop indie, over which the chunky, kinetic vocalist largely rapped his delivery. As I said, a popular set and clearly good at what they do, but not my cup of eclecticism.

Another downstairs break, another old friend; this time my fellow R*R fan Paul, whom I’d not seen for a few years! Catch-up time then, and a quick chat with the Sebastian And Me gents (which earned me a free CD. Yay!) before we joined the busiest crowd of the night for the 9.30 arrival of BETTER HEAVEN… this was so busy, in fact, that much of the young BH massive had stepped up onto the front of the Hop’s admittedly wide stage. This however created a two-pronged issue for us folks at the back; not only did this render seeing the band nigh-on impossible, but it also mucked with the sound, the onstage bodies absorbing the speaker volume and bouncing it back onstage. Given that BH’s material was largely wispy female fronted Summery yet understated ethereal dreampop, this gave the impression that their songs might just drift away on the slightest of breezes! So ultimately a frustrating experience overall, with their most memorable number being the closer, a real outlier with an almost scuzzy glam metal base. Bizarre! 

And so to tonight’s headliners WILD ISLES. I’d heard good reports of their billowing and windswept post grunge/ alt-country sound, which made them sound like a toned-down Manchester Orchestra, and the lead singer’s fulsome beard only added to that impression! However, opener “Stand In Silence” was much more upbeat than expected, giving very Therapy? vibes in its rambunctious riff-heavy alt-rock groove. Things became mellower thereafter; “What Would You Say” was a blend of slow-burn QOTSA desert/ stoner rock with strumalong interludes and a big crashing crescendo; a “couple of emo things” were suitably brooding and plaintive; and “Fake Hearts” was a more upbeat Gaslight Anthem-esque heartland blue-collar bluesy rocker. Closer “Still Dreaming” featured a big singalong choral hook and a riff-heavy climax, before Shuffle impresario Ed persuaded the band back out for an impromptu (and moshpit-inducing) encore, rounded off with thanks from the singer, “for staying out way past my bedtime!” Mine too, but chats and catch-ups with Paj and Avril saw me getting home about half 11, after a fine Shuffle Day 1 won out, for me, by Sebastian And Me!

Shuffle Friday, as per last night at The Hop, was a one-venue night, Vic all the way for me; a slightly later drive up the hill meant the usual Vic car park was already full, with cars circulating aimlessly, but luckily, I grabbed the last space in the car park behind the Roaring Donkey. These parking shenanigans however meant that I was a bit late for ANYMINUTENO’s opening set at 7.45. Featuring mate Pete “Monkey” backing up his punk rock scenester brother Jeeves, I was expecting this to be a bit of a buzzsaw UK82-alike hardcore racket. Happily I was proven wrong from the outset; this was strong-armed robust street urchin punk rock, undoubtedly, but with more leanings towards the class-struggle polemics of the likes of Stiff Little Fingers, The Men They Couldn’t Hang, and the ‘No’s most obvious comparison, New Model Army (a bit on the nose, this comp, but hey, if I hear clip-clops, I’m saying “horse”…). Much more coherent and actually melodic than I expected too, particularly when Jeeves hit the frantic strumalong acoustic guitar button, this was a fine opening set, Jeeves announcing at the end, “there’s loads of other bands coming up; [however] I can’t remember them as I’ve got a fish head,” his bandmate retorting with, “and a mouse cock…!” 

Loads of folks already out – Paul, Andy, Dubs, Paj and Avril, and old punk mate Olly (it’s crusty old punk rocker night, of course Olly is out!) – so a bit of rock chat whiled away the time between bands. A particularly fun catch up too with old You Are Here drummer Alan, who I’d shamefully not recognised putting in a shift with Jeeves’ lot, which then pitched us up for Essex folk trio WILSWOOD BUOYS, next up. Taking the noise down a notch, their set was however still shot through with a similar protest punk attitude (viz. the early emotive anti-war protest “Crisis”) alongside their rootsier hoedown material, with an early “This Must Be Love” a bouncy hoedown with a stream-of-consciousness gabbled vocal. “Change”’s speeded-up ending required some intricate picking from guitarist Joe, and “Save The Queen”, referring to a drinking game of the same name, was a punkier closer recalling (again, clip-clops = horse) Frank Turner.

It then got noisier again (and a damn sight busier!), with a double-whammy of younger local punk/ emo types. NOT WARRIORS, on at 9.15, had seemingly brought their families and all their college mates with them, and played it hard and riff-heavy from the outset, with an early “Escape Redefined” taking me right back to those 2000’s Finch/ All American Rejects/ Taking Back Sundays times. A well-observed cover of Modern Baseball’s excellent “Your Graduation” was an early highlight for me (also sounding a bit scuzzy and Midway Still-esque to these old ears!), a punk rock cover of the Scooby Doo theme had me texting my absent son Logan (a headache precluding his planned attendance tonight – lightweight!), and a frantic, noisy yet occasionally quite hooky and anthemic set closed out with a robust fist-pumping “King Of The Playground”. A chat with a passing Pete Monkey, before VIDUALS kept the volume up at 11 and the pace setting to Eiffel Tower High with some hard-hitting emo punk popcore. A bit more haphazard and thrashier than the previous lot, surprisingly, Swindon’s self-confessed “laziest power trio” nonetheless ploughed gamely through their technically beset (the singer repeatedly cussing out his pedal board) yet well-received heavy beat/ power-chord driven set, the hooky chorus of closer “Coming Back To You” the best of a Greatest Hits set from an apparently long if unproductive career… 

This took us to 10.30 and the place surprisingly thinned out a little (past Not Warriors’ college mates’ bedtimes, maybe?!), but I was joined by Beef and his mate Jas for tonight’s headliners, and possibly one of the best-known bands to play The Shuffle. “I’m so fucking excited I might wet myself!” exclaimed Shuffle Head Honcho Ed by way of introduction to PET NEEDS; I’d last seen this Essex rabble delivering an impressive set in support of Frank Turner in Bristol in 2022 (gig 1,248), and since then they’d put together a valid case to be the Mega City Four of current times, packing in their day jobs and embracing a DIY “have van, will travel and gig” ethos which has seen their profile raise accordingly. Quite a coup for The Shuffle, then (I suspect my gig friend Joanne, who’d toured Europe with them as merch person and was standing next to me, front and centre, at this point, had a hand in their inclusion...), and the boys proceeded to justify their status from the outset, tearing the Shuffle a new one with a high-octane, high energy set of rabble rousing yet hooky emo punk/ old school punk noise. “We’ve got a brand-new van – it’s been cleaned inside and out and is the slippiest thing ever!” announced frontman Johnny Marriott, prior to a riotous Buzzcocks-esque “Fingernails”; “Separations” was a super-speedy gabbling punk rock luge ride with Johnny’s in-your-face vocal a feature; and “Tracey Emin’s Bed” an old school proto punk romper stomper. Throughout, Johnny demonstrated he’d learned much at the feet of the archetypal audience mass communicator Frank, calling for singalongs, jumpalongs and general involvement and inclusion from the unusually engaged Swindon crowd. The “ba ba ba” singalong of “Toothpaste” and emotive and anthemic “Get On The Roof” rounded off a breathless and incendiary set from a band I really need to get to see more often… 

Caught my breath, grabbed a list and got it signed by the buoyant band, and bade farewell to all and sundry after a very enjoyable punk rock Shuffle Friday, home after midnight via the kebab van for a (very) late tea. I still got up for my usual Saturday morning gym sesh, however, but the after effects of said workout and the Friday night, plus the Red Sox on TV, persuaded me to give the Saturday Shuffle a miss altogether. Now who’s the lightweight…? Nonetheless, after a family Sunday lunch gathering, I was up for some Sunday afternoon acoustic shenanigans at the Beehive, this time with son Logan and his boyfriend Kristian in tow. We hit the surprisingly quiet ‘hive at 4.30, the Tuppenny apparently having run late so shunting back acts here by 15 minutes. We grabbed a drink and a seat in the side room, then, for a listening brief for Beehive openers TRIAMI at 4.45. A trio of 3 female voices and one lightly strummed acoustic guitar, their stock in trade was warm, wistful and wispy pastoral strumalongs with layered and intertwining choral harmonies, very angelic in expression and delivery, and formed a pleasant backdrop to our quiet chatting (didn’t want to disturb any listeners…). 

Ben Sydes and Evie arrived midway through after apparently travelling 5 ½ hours (!) from Pembrokeshire for his B SYDES set; we offered our services as a backing chorus if he wanted to compete with the opening act but thankfully he declined, announcing to a fuller crowd when he kicked off his set at 5.30, “[those were] lovely vibes from the previous act – and now I’m going to ruin all of that!” After a suitably pacey and impassioned new opening number, “Crutches” was its’ usual rollicking self, Logan and I chanting “knees! Knees!” at the suitable juncture. Another newie, the slow-burn descending chorus of a stark “Full Of Screams” preceded a singalong to “This Was My City Once”, and another newie, the sombre and introspective self-examination of “Character Arc” was followed by the discordant emo of “Self-Sabotage”, before an ebullient Ben rounded off an energetic and intriguing (with some splendid new material on show) half hour with another rousing choral singalong to “The Desperate Dance”. Fine work, young man! 

We took a break outside as this oddly shaped multi-tiered pub got really stupid busy, popping outside into the side alley as Tim and his bandmates arrived, so we stayed out there chatting instead of catching an expanded Canute’s Plastic Army. Sorry! At the appointed hour, we shoe-horned our way back in, past mates Paul and Paul (!), and managed to grab a bar space alongside Paj and Avril and Avril’s sister Ingrid for THE SHUDDERS’ onstage arrival at 10 past 7, now in front of an utterly rammed Beehive (so much so, that Ed suggested as part of his introduction that if anyone needed the loo, they go out of the door at the back and walk round the outside of the pub rather than trying to squirm through!). Tim and the boys were however in no mood to make concessions to the packed and seriously hot venue, delivering a full-on rock set of their indie/ alt-Americana blend, with opener “Get Out Of Here” setting the tone with some rocking and chunky early 90’s Gin Blossoms vibes, and the layered harmonies of “Thought I Saw You” featuring some intricate and melodic picking from guitarist Liam and a fine crescendo build.

 “We’re almost there, and we’re all still alive…” commented vocalist Danny before the Byrds-ian heartland country rock of “Long Way Down”, then the sombre and morose yet widescreen “Mary’s Grace” provided some respite from the rock (“we were going to start with this one but thought we wouldn’t be bastards!” quipped Danny before kicking this one off). Closer “Rolling Sea” however was the highlight, a slow burner which built momentum throughout, a big harmonic pre-middle 8 crescendo particularly notable, and earned a comment of praise from Ed at the conclusion of this slightly truncated but fine, dynamic set from “the Shuffle House Band!” as Ed described them.

 And that was us all Shuffled out, as I needed to take Kristian back home to Malmsbury. Farewells to all and sundry, then, before we hit the road after an excellent weekend of fine music and company. Glad I ended my Shuffle exile this year then; whilst “outsiders” Pet Needs may have been hands down my favourite band of the weekend, an intriguing and entertaining slew of new (well, new to me) local bands, headed by Sebastian And Me, enlivened my first 2 nights, and veteran faves B Sydes and The Shudders delivered fine Sunday sets too. So hopefully after this year, The Swindon Shuffle will stay back on my Dance Card again!