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!