Thursday, 21 October 2021

1,193 THE SKIDS, Gloucester Guildhall Arts Centre, Saturday 16th October 2021

 


The last time I saw The Skids, ironically at this very venue 2 ½ years ago (gig 1,124), it felt as if the relentless touring schedule that this veteran Scottish anthemic original punk band had adopted since their 40th Anniversary reunion in 2017 was winding down, that a less hectic approach would be adopted going forward, that being exemplified by a splendid acoustic set from lead vocalist Richard Jobson and the Watson boys later that year (September 2019, gig 1,151). Then of course Covid hit, and the world was put on pause, providing an unwelcome yet natural break which actually seemed to serve as a rest and reset for The Skids! Not much of a surprise then, that as soon as the venues opened after a near 18-month absence, The Skids announced an Autumn full-on electric band tour. Even less of a surprise was that me and my gig buddy Logan were up for seeing them again!

 Gloucester on a Saturday night was the best choice, so we headed off about 7ish, hitting the venue and opting to grab a drink in the ornate wood-panelled bar over catching support Borrowed Time, whom I’ve seen enough to realise they’re not my cup of homogenous UK82 street punk snakebite. Ran into my Gloucester friend Simon (who’s not only a BT fan but a mate of the vocalist!) and his charming wife Sarah after their set for a long-overdue catch-up, before we took a wander into the half-full old school hall venue, Logan still managing to find a bit of barrier, pretty much front and centre! Whiled away the interval singing along to the 70’s punk PA soundtrack – as I mentioned to a fellow punter, this is our church, and these are our hymns!

 The bubbling synth intro of “Peaceful Times” as ever heralded The Skids onstage, the bomber-jacketed Jobbo last on, yet fully ready to conduct the choir. The regimental drums and riffery of usual opener “Animation” led us in, Bill Simpson’s bass initially sounding a little off, but by the titanic, hard and heavy second number, the brilliant “Of One Skin” it was all sorted.

 


Jobbo was in playful, voluble mood tonight, clearly glad to be back in his natural habitat, i.e. in front of an attentive and enthusiastic audience, and sounded off extensively between songs on subjects such as Bill’s alleged porn career (!), calling out hecklers (at one point offering the whole crowd outside with a, “you think you’re tough enough Gloucester?”), Rod Stewart’s cock (!!), recent “Burning Cities” CD producer – and Killing Joke legend – Youth’s marijuana habits (!!!), and his appearance in Paula Yates’ tacky 90’s book “Rock Stars In Their Underpants” (“a shameful story!”). This, of course, was on top of his fist-pumping, rabble rousing frontman performance, usual shadow boxing “dancing” and stentorian, gut busting vocals, particularly to the fore on a quite brilliant “The Saints Are Coming”.

 The band sounded tight and tough too; clearly the break has done them good, with the Watson father and son guitar duo providing interweaving, snaking riffery of which Stuart Adamson himself would be proud, Bill Simpson pounding out a bass foundation as solid and rock-steady as the springy venue floor wasn’t (!), and – with due deference to usual drummer Mike Baillie – guest drummer, Big Country’s Mark Brzezicki, giving his usual virtuoso masterclass in hard-hitting rock drumming. The staccato opening to “Charade” ceded to a huge choral hook, the excellent “Kings Of The New World Order” showed there’s songwriting life in these old dogs yet, and after a more reflective yet still rousing singalong mid-set double of “Hurry On Boys” and “A Woman In Winter”, it all went a bit old school punk rock, the Boris-baiting terrace chant “Albert Tatlock” segueing into truncated versions of The Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant” and Buzzcocks’ “What Do I Get”, before the inevitable “Into The Valley” and a galloping “Olympian” closed the set out.

 The punk rock wasn’t finished, though, with a rambunctious run-through of The Clash’s “Complete Control” (a stand-out track on their recent “Hymns From A Haunted Ballroom” covers CD) the encore punctuation point on a 1 hour 20 set, proving there’s still life in these old Scottish terriers yet, particularly after the Covid break. A quick catch-up with Simon and Sarah before a false start home due to a road closure still got us back in time to grab a kebab and watch some Red Sox playoff baseball before hitting the hay. A good day, a great boys night out with Logan, and a triumphant and welcome return from The Skids!

1,192 ABSTRACTION ENGINE, Swindon The Victoria, Friday 15th October 2021

 


A local Friday night up the hill… and after finally catching a full set from diverse indie rockers Abstraction Engine at the recent postponed Swindon Shuffle, after promising to do so for so long, here’s another chance! You wait hours for a bus then a couple come trundling along in short order… and after finally (hopefully) putting a couple of odd health issues behind me, I’m now well up for making up for lost time, gig-wise!

 So, despite feeling a bit wiped out after a hospital procedure yesterday (sedation still working its’ way through my system and all), I hauled my sorry ass off the sofa about 8.30 and drove up the hill, jumping into a parking spot in the busy GWR car park opposite just as someone was leaving, and wandering through the suspiciously quiet Vic – is this Swindon Friday night, or what? The back room was totally deserted, but the Abstraction boys were taking a break by the load-in door, so I joined them and caught up with this friendly and affable bunch of gents, generally veterans of various bands in the past (particularly vocalist David Moore, who revealed he used to play in bands around his native Manchester in the 80’s, supporting the likes of Puressence and The Loft!), which gave them a bit of perspective about a prospective quiet turnout tonight. Enjoyed some rock chat to while away the time gap created by the non-appearance of a scheduled support (they just didn’t turn up!!), before the boys decided to go on about 9.45, hoping that attendance would improve when the Vic barflys heard some sounds emanating from the back room. It worked, actually, and a smattering of folks joined me as Abstraction Engine kicked off their set at 10 to 10.

 


The Abstraction Engine sound is definitely rooted in indie guitar rock, but thereafter all bets are off; having played music through various genre trends gives them a Magpie sensibility to their songwriting approach, taking a bit of moody atmospherics from here, a bit more strident riffery from there, making them difficult to pigeonhole overall. A constant feature, however, is the strength of the hooks and choruses, endemic through their material like seaside town names through a stick of rock. Thus buoyant opener “Hollow Heart”, with its’ “C’mon c’mon” repetitive bridge, was an early call to arms, “Crossfire” was an echo-heavy strident anthem with some impressive mid-song drum fills, and after “Placeholder” featured some more considered, almost C86-esque jangle before an unexpected change of pace, a dynamic “Willing Slave” continued the earlier, harder edged approach with a dark, almost snarling dynamism, prompting guitarist Gareth to comment to David, “if you play the next one that fast I’m fucked!”

 A more introspective set mid-section followed, the slower burn, languid post-grunge Promise Ring dynamics of “Forever” a feature, before the proto new wave riffery of “If Looks Could Kill” (purporting to be a love song but featuring a bratty, “what the hell is wrong with you tonight?” hook) led into a well-observed “Victoria” – a cover version of a cover version, as David’s delivery was definitely more Mark Smith than Ray Davies! Then finally, the deliciously meandering “Shiine”, all absorbing and layered, itself led into a superb and lengthy rendition of Stereolab’s 90’s metronomic indie dance classic “French Disko”, which got me recalling those 90’s Level 3 indie days and shaking a leg down the front. A splendid way to conclude another fascinating and varied set from these indie chameleons, this time with extra added dynamism. A shame so few people were there to witness it, the attendance varying between one and two dozen throughout. No matter, I enjoyed it, and so did the band…

 A quick chat with the boys before I turned in after a fine set. I’m glad I made the effort to haul my ass off the sofa, as I’m left with the increasing thought that, following the sad demise of Raze*Rebuild a couple of years ago, I may just have found my new favourite local band…!


Wednesday, 13 October 2021

1,191 RICK ASTLEY and BLOSSOMS play THE SMITHS, London Kentish Town The Forum, Saturday 9th October 2021

 





Just when you thought that this gig year couldn’t get any weirder…!

 Young Stockport indie band Blossoms have (along with the likes of The Courteeners, The 1975 and Catfish And The Bottlemen) somehow attained arena-level gig status whilst registering not even the slightest blip on my musical radar whatsoever, so I initially feigned scant interest on an internet news article indicating they’d dragged 80’s pop holdover Rick Astley onstage at a recent warm-up gig for a covers encore. That is, until I heard it… said encore was a cover of 80’s indie icons The Smiths’ all-time classic “This Charming Man”, and to my surprise, it sounded damn good, actually! The article them went on to mention they were playing a couple of one-off gigs covering all Smiths material, which more than piqued my interest… I loved The Smiths back then, without fully subscribing to the slavish devotion of most fans for charismatic lead singer Morrissey, and saw them 5 times “live”. So, I booked tix for the London leg (the second of two, after the inevitable Manchester opener) for myself and my gig buddy son Logan (after playing him some stuff which he immediately approved of) on the O2 pre-sale, and good thing too, as rumour then had it that the general sale took less than a minute to sell out completely. Wow!

 I was actually champing at the bit to finally get out gigging again, after Covid-related reasons forcing me to miss a few scheduled late September gigs (particularly Inhaler, who I was really looking forward to see; Rachel and Logan still went, and said they were excellent – bugger!) so we headed off on a sunny Autumn Saturday early afternoon, choosing to take the M4 route “oop the Smoke” despite threatened delays. Big mistake. A closure at Junction 14 saw us take 2 hours just to get to Newbury services (!), then another at 4B saw us heading North onto the M1 (!!) to get back down to Kentish Town, eventually dumping the motor in our pre-booked parking spot at 5.15 after a tortuous 4 hour journey. Yikes! Only a quick one-stop hop down to Camden, then, rather than the planned longer shopping excursion, but enough time still to grab some excellent Thai street food and for Logan to both “fall in love with Camden’s charms” (as one of heroes Gaz Brookfield would say) and con me into buying him a new jumper! Back to the venue 15 minutes before doors – we initially had to join the long GA queue, snaking around the side of the venue and down an alley, as the O2 Priority queue was full, until an O2 Priority girl, as good as her word, came and grabbed us from our distant spot to usher us in! Result! Logan grabbed a bit of front row barrier, house left, and we hunkered down for the wait as the place filled up. No support, unless you count the “Club Fromage” DJ onstage, who actually did a fine job getting the crowd in party mood by playing a mix of cheesy 80’s singalong hits and popular indie stuff, and who fully earned her ovation as she left at 9.

 A few onstage tweaks (and time for a couple of rounds of “Sweet Caroline”, sung along lustily by this surprisingly young crowd), before the lights smashed to black, the “Coronation Street” theme tune started up, and Blossoms slinked onstage, almost apologetically, followed by Rick Astley, all brandishing gladioli as per early Smiths gigs (including the couple of times I saw them in February 1984, gigs 11 and 12!). OK, I thought, this isn’t some kind of weird fever dream, this is really happening…



 Astley in the 80’s was pretty much the antithesis of my musical tastes, a manufactured Stock Aitken Waterman plastic soul-pop chart fodder puppet, and scourge of indie cool (The Wonder Stuff even going so far as to pen a “tribute” to him entitled “Astley In The Noose”!); however he’s unexpectedly found a cooler niche of late thanks to the recent “Rickrolling” phenomenon (which if I understand correctly is basically his cheesy chart hit “Never Gonna Give You Up” being superimposed on YouTube videos). The Foo Fighters even brought him onstage at Reading Festival a few years back to “Rickroll” the crowd after initially making them believe they were going to cover “Smells Like Teen Spirit”! Be that as it may, I have to admit he’s always had a great voice; a deep, rich sonorous soul-boy baritone, actually perfect for vast swathes of tonight’s material, particularly the more mournful, introspective numbers such as “Reel Around The Fountain” and “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”. And tonight, bedecked in his usual blazer and sporting a pair of voluminous checked trousers (which he referred to as his, “MC Hammer gone golfing look”!), he was an absolute star from note one of opener “What Difference Does It Make”, immediately getting the crowd onside by totally nailing the tricky falsetto outro. Respect!

 3 numbers in – including an astonishing “Still Ill”, where Astley’s delivery turned from pure Northern snark in the verses, to almost soaringly operatic in the chorus – I turned to the lady next to me and remarked, “I’m still not sure I believe what I’m seeing!”, her beaming reply being, “I know – bonkers, isn’t it!” This was the crux of the night – a “mad dream [which] came true,” according to Blossoms vocalist Tom Ogden (an excellent name for a Northern vocalist – any relation to World Of Twist’s late and lamented Tony?), with self-confessed Smiths uber-fan Astley “getting away with murder,” performing this beloved material amazingly well, balancing reverence with an energetic performance belying his years, and backed up ably by Blossoms who’d clearly done their homework, delivering the undulating indie jangle as authentically as possible. A dark, racey “Hand In Glove”, which followed a round of Jaegers called for by Astley, saw Ogden nail the harmonica riff perfectly to cheers; “The Boy With The Thorn In His Side”’s melancholy meander was overlaid with Astley’s splendid yodel, and segued into a deliciously doleful “Girlfriend In A Coma”; and the “Metal Guru”-esque pounding glam stomp of “Panic” led to a roof-raising “Hang The DJ!” singalong, Astley delivering the line, “the music they constantly play says nothing to me about my life” with oodles of conviction and not a whiff of irony. The phone torches-aloft, stark ballad “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” ended a swift hour-long set (maybe a little brief, but as Astley stated, these boys have had to learn 19 numbers from scratch in short order, so fair enough) which seemed less than half that.



 Of course the most iconic Smiths numbers were left until last; firstly a tremulous, effects-led “How Soon Is Now”, then guitarist Josh Dewhurst took centre stage for the intricate riffery of a superb “This Charming Man”. However the best was saved for last; after a heartfelt tribute to both The Smiths (“I’ve wanted to sing [their songs] since I was 15”) and his Blossoms backing band (“these handsome devils!”), Astley delivered one final soaring performance to the iconic “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out”, the crowd once again raising the roof with a similarly heartfelt and communal singalong. A quite brilliant end to the night, capped by Dewhurst unmooring Astley’s own setlist and handing it over to me. Result! Again!

 Joined the slow egress from the venue, the throng singing, “Never Gonna Give You Up” in tribute to Astley’s excellent shift this evening, then a thankfully swifter journey home via the M40 and Oxford still saw us home the other side of 1 a.m. Yikes! Still, well worth it… this utterly bonkers idea could have turned out brilliant or bowling-shoe ugly, but thankfully was easily the former, with Rick Astley a true star doing more than justice to The Smiths seminal canon of work. And in all honesty, given some of Morrissey’s recent remarks, I’d rather see anyone other than him sing Smiths songs right now!

 


Monday, 13 September 2021

1,190 THE 2021 SWINDON SHUFFLE, Swindon The Hop, The Tuppenny, The Victoria and The Beehive, Thursday 9th to Saturday 11th September 2021

 


After a Covid-induced one year hiatus, and a slight bump from its’ usual slot into early September, “The Swindon Shuffle” – the ‘don’s answer to the “Camden Crawl” and a free, multi-venue, charity fundraising showcase of Swindon’s musical talents – makes a welcome return to my gig itinerary! And this time I’m out for more than just the single “one and done” nights I’d been restricted to in 2019 and 2018, due to a number of intriguing acts being scattered across the breadth of the event. Also, this year the charity beneficiary is, appropriately, The Prospect Hospice, falling in line with the recent “My Dad’s Bigger Than Your Dad” Festival fundraiser in honour of recently lost Swindon musical stalwart Dave Young. So I’ll be throwing some folding into buckets at some point…

 


So, “Shuffle Day 1” Thursday (although event organiser Ed Dyer would argue the Shuffle starts with Wednesday’s quiz night!) saw me “on it” pretty much from the off, parking up in Old Town and hitting the upstairs room of The Hop about 7.30, just as opener JIM BLAIR was finishing off his set with a fuzzed-out cover of stompy old blues staple “Come Together” and his own “Dancing Barefeet”, one of Dave Young’s favourite numbers. Caught up with folks before my real early-bird motivation, ABSTRACTION ENGINE, due on at 8. Since catching an impressive showing from this lot at 2018’s “12 Bands”, I’d been meaning to sample a “live” set of their own material, but events and unfortunate clashes have thus far conspired against us, so I was glad to set that straight tonight, settling in front and centre for their set. For whatever reason, I’d expected a set of post-millennial, intelligently crafted US alt-indie-influenced rock from vocalist David Moore and his charges, and opener “Low” initially underlined this, creeping in low and slow-burn in a pseudo-laze Real Estate-meets-Promise Ring style. However, “What Would You Say” was notably more upbeat, with cascading ringing guitar interplay and some very fine hooky choral harmonies, and by “Dreamer”, next up, the robust drum intro and darker, almost proto-Gothy atmospherics saw them almost channelling “Spiritwalker”-era Cult! A chameleonic lot, this, then, with various rock/indie musical styles and references aplenty thrown into their melting pot; difficult to pigeonhole, but thanks to a welcome penchant for insistent, hooky chorus lines (“Talk In Your Sleep” even recalling a rootsier Big Star chorus!), very easy to enjoy. Final number “Shiine”, which with its absorbing melancholy and largely instrumental intricate meander felt as if it could have walked off 90’s Boston faves Wheat’s “Hope And Adams” album, put the final polish on a splendid set – nearly 3 years in the waiting, but well worth the wait!

 



Had a chat with David – a fellow veteran of the post-punk wars! – and his splendid bandmates in the beer garden, before heading off to The Tuppenny. CANUTE’S PLASTIC ARMY were rounding off their set in front of a full house, with some galloping acoustic guitar and Anish’s as-ever strident, commanding vocals the feature of their version of the old folk staple “Gallows Pole”. I caught up with some folks (again) and took an early watching brief (which, happily for my buggered knee, turned into a sitting brief next to my old Brunel mate Andy) for THE LOST TRADES. Opening with “One Voice”, this collective of 3 acoustic/ folky singer-songwriters again proved the whole is greater than the sum of its’ parts, with an enchanting set of stripped-back, smoothly pastoral numbers overlaid with interwoven 2/3 part harmonies. A lot quieter than I’d normally go for, but I’m a total sucker for choral vocal harmonies (the likes of Gigolo Aunts would attest to that), and this equally honey-throated trio delivered them by the bucketload. Some fun between-song banter as well, Jamie debating the rights and wrongs of wearing the t-shirt of the band you’re going to see (a total no-no in my book!), and Tamsin bubbling over the video for a finger-clicking “Oaks” garnering them a mention in “The Guardian” (!). “Good Old Days” was again my highlight, Phil contributing some comparatively startlingly strident electric bass, and “Groom Of The Stools” (“Horrible Histories in musical form!” quipped Tamsin) was a untypical yet jolly way to end another charming Lost Trades set. And for me, to end Day 1!

 

“Shuffle Day 2” Friday – or “Nappy Night” as some termed it, stealing a reference to those 70’s/ 80’s U18 Brunel Rooms nights – was all about young bands up The Vic! I parked up behind the Roaring Donkey and headed in at 8.30 for openers KOTONIC, or, “the Kotonic two!” according to the vocalist/ guitarist, due to the absence of their drummer for Covid reasons. This impromptu duo played an interesting brand of dark emotive rock, veering towards 90’s post-grunge, 2000’s emo and even contemporary darkwave, without plunging headfirst into any of those styles. Easy to see where the big riffs would be, even in these stripped-back acoustic versions of their material, and clearly the vocalist is used to howling above the noise, evidenced by his strident yet commanding tones and the conviction of his delivery. New single “Roots” and a later “Not Broken” were both slow burns towards big, angst-ridden chorus crescendos, and whilst some of the material seemed a bit overwrought and serious, there was definite promise here.

 


But my main target, and ultimately my highlight of the night, was next up. I’d been meaning to check out CONCORD DRIVE for some time, not only due to some favourable “live” reports indicating a young indie band of burgeoning promise, but also because the guitarist was the son of an old friend – yup, that’s where I am now, I’ve graduated from supporting my mates’ bands, to checking out my mates’ kids bands! I’d caught up with Nathan briefly earlier, so hit the front for their set, the band emerging at 9.15 in front of a packed and unsurprisingly young crowd of their contemporaries. Opener “Stranger Still” immediately underlined that reported promise, being the kind of urgent, insistent indie rock that would have seen me gleefully piling into a mosh in my 90’s heyday, and the repetitive hook and looser, almost funky drummer beat of “LDN News” marked them out as more than one trick ponies. But it was the latest single, “Don’t Wanna Be” that was my highlight; a proper indie banger, this, a thrashing dervish of a song recalling Indoor Pets’ excellent “Teriyaki”, and delivered in a confident, swaggering style by young vocalist Jacob, who with his Justin Young-meets-Jarvis Cocker stage presence, preening and posing and rabble-rousing in equal measure, is either a natural-born frontman or the biggest show-off in town! “Train To Boston”, a Bowie/ T Rex glammy stomper was another highlight of a rapturously received set of urgent, vital and propulsive indie rock from a very promising band: “next year’s headliners?” mentioned Ed Dyer to me… maybe…

 

TRANSFER WINDOW, another youthful lot, followed in short order; they’d apparently recently shed one member so were debuting as a 3-piece, the young guitarist/ vocalist apologising for his, “terrible voice,” in advance of their opener, an upbeat emo-esque beast with an angular, backbeat chorus. This set the tone for another frantic, fast paced indie rock set, with an early “Shallow Tendencies” (“the first song we ever wrote – it’s fucking terrible!”) an embryonic and grungy howl, and other numbers veering between punky amphetamine gallops and emotive thrashes (one later number recalling Jimmy Eat World’s “Sweetness” for me). In similar musical territory to Concord Drive, they might be a bit behind in terms of songcraft and development, although their recent personnel changes probably won’t have helped their forward trajectory. Either way, still another young band worth watching out for…

 


This brought us to 10.45 and headliners STAY LUNAR. Still a bunch of spritely young bucks themselves, they seem almost veterans of my sojourns into the local scene now, as I’d seen them as Shore and Rainy Day Fund as well as their current incarnation. I’d always enjoyed them before without being blown away, but tonight they took a step up with easily the best “live” performance I’d seen them deliver. From the strumalong opener “Thinking About You”, through the upbeat robust jangle of “Not Your Fight” to the smoother (dare I even say radio-friendly) 80’s synth-embellished pop vibe of “Anywhere/ Everywhere” they were notably more practiced and polished than previous outings, whilst retaining their hazy, dreamy 80’s melody. The 80’s in fact are quite the touchstone for Stay Lunar, with many and varied similarities popping into my head (C86, The Smiths, Nick Heyward, even The Lotus Eaters!). New number “Hello Old Friend” a song about mental health, shone with its introspective charm, and closer “Brainshake” was a funkier groove to close out their popular set, before Ed persuaded them back out, somewhat reluctantly it seemed (!), to reprise an earlier “Immediately”. A set-list grab and a chat with Concord Drive’s Jacob (tonight’s Star of the Show for me; sorry Stay Lunar…) rounded off a very successful “Nappy Night”!

 


So “Shuffle Day 3” Saturday was my final action, as other commitments precluded my Sunday attendance; after a busy and emotional day, I was out early as well, parking up behind the cinema and wandering up to The Beehive, scene of tonight’s shenanigans. Met SI AND MATT HALL outside for a chat before taking a spot stage-front alongside Paul and Sophie Carter for their opening set, prompt at 7.15 under the watchful gaze of a photo of esteemed local music reporter Flicky Harrison, also lost earlier this year, the Beehive stage renamed for The Shuffle in her honour. The boys kicked off with oldie “Rhythm And Rhyme”, before “My Remedy”, the first of a smattering of newies, underlined what compere “Dubs” had alluded to in his introduction, feeling a little more alt-Country than Si’s usual tubthumping blue collar rock, Springsteen-meets-Mould style. “Slow Burn”, another newie, lived up to its name with some hushed guitar work underpinning an angsty lyric; then a storming, singalong “Back To The Fall” (“an old Raze*Rebuild number for these guys [Paul and myself]”) was my set highlight, predictably enough. “Reluctant Shut-In” and closer “Audiobook”, racier musically yet coming-of-old-age lyrically, proved Si has had as productive a song-writing lockdown as brother Matt has had a guitar-making one, Matt showing off his new construction this evening!

 


Ran into Rich and entourage before popping outside and chatting with Si, Matt and various other folks; then back in for the first couple of numbers of SPLAT THE RAT’s Irish folk set. I enjoyed their authentic cover of The Waterboys’ fiddly-diddly 80’s classic “Fisherman’s Blues” whilst musing that it felt contrary to the spirit of The Shuffle ethos to play lots of covers (oh shut up, you bloody purist!). But in any case, my busy day and a couple of late nights were catching up with me, so I bailed at 9, grabbing a kebab and heading home. Sorry Flour Babies (headlining The ‘hive tonight)… I will catch one of your sets ere long!

 Thus endeth The Swindon Shuffle for me; once again an excellent opportunity to catch up with old and new friends, as well as a fine showcase of the musical talent Swindon has to offer; plus, tellingly, evidence that the torch is being passed to a younger crowd, both of performers and punters, which can only serve to revitalise and enrich the scene. Whatever, after the Covid cancellation of 2020, it was just great to have it back!

 

Wednesday, 8 September 2021

1,189 HEAVEN 17 Presents “Reproduction” and “Travelogue”, London The Roundhouse, Sunday 5th September 2021

 


This one deserves a bit of context, methinks, involving a deep dive into my musical history. So here goes…

 Hallowe’en 1979 was a proper musical epiphany for me, as I attended The Brunel Rooms nightclub’s Under 18 “Nappy Night” for the first time. As a 14 year old fledgling punkster, albeit with a knowledge of said punk genre gleaned only from “Top Of The Pops” and the equally embryonic “Smash Hits” magazine, I was overwhelmed by the bombardment of brilliant new music that night, hearing the likes of Killing Joke, The Fall, Adam And The Ants, Wire, Spizz Energi and many more for the first time. However, chief amongst my new discoveries was the track that Amphi DJ Bill rather perversely used as his “demarcation line” between different tribal music sessions (punk, mod, metal, then back to punk), which was unlike nothing I’d ever heard; a robotic heartbeat pulse intro leading into a futuristic synth-powered hypnotic rhythm, with an utterly infectious hook about wanting to be, “tall tall tall, as big as a wall wall wall…” This was “Empire State Human” by The Human League, and this and its’ subsequent parent album “Reproduction”, a mix of utterly otherworldly synth sounds, quirky pop-culture loaded lyrics and irresistible earworm tuneage (not to mention a stark, heart-cracking version of 60’s staple “(You’ve Lost That) Loving Feeling”) became a firm favourite of mine. Another followed in “Travelogue”, but before I could avail myself of this music “live”, the band fractured into 2 warring factions, The Human League Mk. 2 and Heaven 17 (via the British Electric Foundation), both ultimately finding huge and enduring commercial success in the New Romantic pop landscape of the 80’s, albeit with considerably less interesting music to my then-Bunnymen infected post-punk ears (Heaven 17’s debut “Penthouse and Pavement” partly notwithstanding). So, no chance I’d ever hear any of that “Reproduction” or “Travelogue” material “live”, then…

 Until… late last year I bumped into Steffen, an old Brunel and Level 3 buddy, who casually mentioned he was looking forward to seeing Heaven 17 doing the first 2 Human League albums! Further investigation revealed he wasn’t just high on sniffing his photo development fluid (!), and that this was an actual thing, a special 40th anniversary celebration of these 2 seminal records. Wow! I pounced straight away, and fellow “old boys” Paul and Ben needed little persuasion to join me!

 So, we headed up to London on a sun-drenched late Summer Sunday, changing parking plans en route due to tube closures, and eventually parking in Hammersmith and tubing to Chalk Farm from there. Time only to get a drink and taking a spot house left, near to one of the pillars circling the interior of this huge ornate former railway turntable shed, before the lights smashed to black and the sirens, alarms and pulsing synth bass of instrumental opener “Introducing…” washed over this expectant crowd. One of only 2 such gigs, this (the other one being the previous night in both bands’ hometown of Sheffield), so anticipation was palpable, as was the cheer that greeted Heaven 17 vocalist Glenn Gregory leading on the 6-piece band. Straight into the slashing synth-punk hook of “Almost Medieval”, and immediately any concerns I had about tonight were stamped down good and proper. It. Sounded. GREAT!

 “This has been a long time coming! Two years [due to Covid postponements] or 40 – take your pick!” announced a clearly buoyed Gregory, before giving us a more detailed heads-up as to the inception and gestation of this project; apparently 10 years in the making, these gigs, and also involving ultimately unsuccessful negotiations to bring original Human League vocalist Phil Oakey on board… actually, another later between-song preamble revealed Gregory himself was due to be the original Human League’s vocalist, Gregory deciding on pursuing an abortive photography career in London instead, and Oakey himself was recruited by Ian Craig Marsh with the recommendation, “I don’t know if he can sing, but he’s got great hair…!” Gregory was, however, the ideal frontman for this project; a total star, stylish, louche and languid, doubtless a late night torch singer in another life with his deep, sonorous baritone more than a match for Oakey’s similar vocal tones, but constantly bigging up the source material, emphasising his pure fandom for the original Human League and deflecting attention and plaudits onto the sole remaining original Human League member on show tonight, Martin Ware, with whom he shared an entertaining, jovial bonhomie, and plenty of quips and humorous asides about the songs, often at Oakey’s expense!



 The “Reproduction” run-through was nothing short of startling; “Circus Of Death”, next up, was uneasy and creepy from the opening funereal synth death march to its’ harrowing horror story lyric; a bouncy “Blind Youth” was accompanied by an excellent youth culture-orientated slideshow on the 4 large screens above the band; and whilst “Empire State Human” lacked a little musical oomph, the sheer joy and chutzpah of the song still saw me leaving my gig buddies for a dancing spot nearer the front. But it was the chilling, elegiac “Morale”, segued into an astonishingly eerie rendition of “(You’ve Lost That) Loving Feeling” which was my highlight; as heartbreakingly naked and gorgeous as the recorded version, this saw Ware join Gregory upfront for a brilliantly observed vocal duet. No screen backdrops here; not needed!



 “Zero As A Limit”’s accelerating hook (“this used to whip you into a frenzy, but you were all punks in those days!” noted Ware) concluded the first album, Gregory announcing, “It’s now time for the meat raffle!” No meat packet on offer here, though, as the sinister synth shapes of “The Black Hit Of Space”, juxtaposed with its’ frankly stupidly hilarious lyric, commenced the “Travelogue” rendition. Another superb album, this for me paled slightly in comparison to “Reproduction”, its’ instrumentals particularly feeling a little like padding (Ware himself acknowledging this, referring to them, slightly tongue-in-cheek, as, “commercial suicide!” whilst admitting, “if it was good enough for David Bowie [to include instrumentals on his album “Low”], then it’s good enough for us!”). However there were still stunning highlights aplenty, with a poignant and uncomfortably still-relevant “Dreams Of Leaving”, accompanied by films of refugees of today, emerging as my “Travelogue” highlight, just pipping a superb, herky-jerky and insanely jolly “Being Boiled” and the roof raising “whoa-oh-oh”’s of a toe-tapping “Only After Dark”.



 “That was the last track off “Travelogue”,” remarked Gregory after the conclusion of the smoothly crooning radio broadcast of “WXJL Tonight”, “the 3rd hour gets really interesting, we’re doing “Dare” next!” Thankfully, this wasn’t the case, but the “Holiday ‘80” EP tracks and a funky “I Don’t Depend On You”, which the original band released under the pseudonym of The Men, got an airing to finish a stunning and breathtakingly swift 2 hours, before Heaven 17 actually played some Heaven 17 numbers as the encore! “(We Don’t Need This) Fascist Groove Thang”, the sadly still-relevant yet insistently catchy call to arms, got a singular seal of approval, particularly when accompanied by the projected faces of those loathsome tory types Johnson, Patel, Gove and Raab with huge black crosses superimposed over them! Then an inevitable and lengthy “Temptation” saw heavily pregnant backing singer Rachel take the spotlight with a searing vocal performance to this, Heaven 17’s biggest 80’s hit. I’d previously always thought of this song as a bit cheesy, but this was actually a splendid rendition, and a fine way to end a superb evening.

 Persistence paid off from a set-list perspective too, projectionist Malcolm Garrett handing me a list on my 3rd time of asking (!), then a slow egress still got us cross-town and back to the car within the hour, and home just after 1. This for me was one of the Greats; it was just amazing to hear these songs “live” for the first time anyway, but even better to have seen them treated with the love, reverence and respect they deserve. Messrs. Gregory and Ware and the rest of Heaven 17; you totally did these songs, and the seminal, ground-breaking group that was the original Human League, full and complete justice tonight. Well done folks!

 

1,188 EXTC, Swindon The Victoria, Thursday 2nd September 2021

 


One of my last gigs before lockdown bit in March 2020 was a properly intriguing one, the debut “warm-up” gig from EXTC, the post-TC&I project from former XTC drummer Terry Chambers, following his return to these shores from “Down Under” a couple of years ago. XTC, of course, were Swindon New Wave legends back in the 70’s, initially playing an itchy, agitated brand of propulsive and hypertensive New Wave, then smoothing the rough edges off and evolving into quirkily melodic and quintessentially English pop storytellers. Long gone now, but Chambers, following his recent brief TC&I liaison with fellow original XTC man Colin Moulding, has clearly rediscovered his love of playing, and has gathered a band together to continue bringing XTC classics to the faithful. As vocalist Steve Tilling actually said during this gig, “we really want to make a go of this,” so no surprise that they announced some immediate post-lockdown shows, one of which was a return to the scene of their last Swindon triumph. So, despite finding out about it only last week, I was still well up for that!

 Trundled up the hill and secured the last parking spot in the car park opposite the Vic, then mooched around and chatted with a few folks before heading in for the first set at 8.30. Quite a crowd for this one in this old pub back room; a venerable one too, I felt quite young! “Had your jabs, have you? All deloused and everything?” joked Tilling as he led the now-4 piece band onstage, bursting into the angular opener “This Is Pop”, eliciting the first of many singalongs this evening. “Good to be out! We’re going to start another plague tonight!” quipped the jovial Tilling before an early languid, meandering “Language In Our Lungs” and deliciously slow, swayalong “Towers Of London” double.

 “Languid” actually seemed the by-word for the early part of this first set, in fact, with slower, more melodic material to the fore, although Tilling, wide-eyed, shoulder-length crinkle-haired and harlequin-trousered, remained a riveting frontman throughout, deftly walking the line between the centre-of-attention frontman and XTC fan, never trying to ape either Moulding’s or Partridge’s vocal styles, just letting the material shine. That said, a couple of (very) deep cuts dragged a little, the very (overly?) proficient band overplaying a little and veering too close to prog overload for my liking…

 However, “No Thugs In Our House” brought us right back, a brilliantly bouncy observational little number and followed by equally excellent first set closers “Ball And Chain” and “Ballad Of Peter Pumpkinhead”, at which point it dawned on me that listening to this material, so parochial and provincial in mood and subject matter, in the Vic on a Thursday night seemed just about the most SWINDON thing it was possible to do!

 Took a breather outside mid-set, chatting with a fellow punter who’d travelled down with his posse from Bromsgrove! Now that’s dedication for you – I pretty much have to take my handbrake off and freewheel down the hill afterwards, and I’m home, me…! Set 2 opened with some punter heckling, “who’s on drums?”, Tilling deadpanning, “oh just some old bloke,” in reply. “Sgt. Rock”, “Earn Enough For Us” and the splendidly groovy “Mayor Of Simpleton” again got this devoted crowd singing along, and the lovely, pastoral “Grass” (“about getting fruity in a field – probably Coate Water!”) diffused the mood before an unexpected but welcome “Respectable Street”. Thankfully, “Generals And Majors” was given the full-on, propulsive bass treatment, along with a Tilling-led crowd singalong false climax, before the band kicked in again for a speeded-up denouement. The off-kilter rhythm of “Making Plans For Nigel” allegedly finished the set, although Tilling announced, “we’re not going to do that going off and coming back on again thing!” and powered into the ticking, quiet-loud (well, louder…) “Senses Working Overtime”. At this point they did go off, inevitably returning for closer and set highlight, the brilliantly herky-jerky coming-of-age tale “Life Begins At The Hop”. It certainly does; the only way to see out a great 2 hours of nostalgia for now.

 Half a list and a handshake from Mr. Tilling later, I let the handbrake off and trundled home (!), bidding safe travels to my Bromsgrove buddy on the way back to the car. And you know what, on this form, I don’t blame him one bit for making that journey to hear Terry, Steve and the boys once again do full justice to XTC’s fine canon of work!

1,187 “MY DAD’S BIGGER THAN YOUR DAD” FESTIVAL, Swindon Town Gardens, Saturday 28th August 2021

 



In June, the Swindon Music Community lost a towering figure, both figuratively and literally, in Dave Young, former owner of the Victoria and 12 Bar gig venues, promoter and impresario extraordinaire, and latterly our “live” favourite Gaz Brookfield’s tour soundman. As a relative newbie to the music scene that for years had been sprouting fertile tendrils right under my unknowing nose, I never really knew Dave apart from on brief nodding terms, but I can still acknowledge the massive impact he’d made to Swindon’s entertainment scene, and to the lives of many of the good folk therein. Following his passing, a number of said folk, led by Ed Dyer of the “Swindon Shuffle” team, came up with the idea of this event, apparently a continuation of events Dave himself used to run (hence the name), as a perfect way not only to celebrate the life of such an important figure in Swindon music lore, but also raise some much-needed cash for the Prospect Hospice, who supported Dave during his final days. That in itself would have been enough to ensure my attendance, but when Gaz decided to break his current gig hiatus to play a full band set in honour of his friend, Logan was up for it too!

 So Logan and I headed up the hill on a sunny Saturday lunchtime, parking up just around the corner from the Town Gardens thanks to a resident’s parking pass from local boy Rich! Wandered through a smattering of stalls to get our wristbands for entry into the grassy Bowl leading up to the arched mainstage, bumping into Rich and Ady and catching up with the Americana stylings of openers BLACK SHEEP APPRENTICE, Richard Skidmore’s vehicle to document his paeans of lost love and despair, as backdrop. Just the kind of stuff for a sunny day, then! I jest, of course, as “Skiddy” and crew were on top form, with “Born To Walk Alone” and eponymous set closer “Black Sheep Apprentice” my highlights of a fine set of his combination of Spanish guitar-inflected psych folk pop and Ennio Morricone-meets-Arthur-Lee baroque dusty Americana, a set concluded by Skiddy raising a glass to his old friend Dave. Fine start!



 Rich headed off to the footy and Logan and I took a wander around the stalls while JIM BLAIR was plying his proto bluesy riffery onstage. A gentleman and a very talented musician, Jim, but honestly (and my loss, I know…) his stuff’s not to my tastes; the same could be said for the subsequent ERIN BARDWELL TRIO, an unusual 3-piece set-up from former Skanxter Erin, who played predominantly piano-led ska material, a couple of early numbers which I recognised as 2-Tone covers. Again, Erin is a lovely bloke, but I’ve never liked ska, so Logan and I caught up with old friends Rich and Helen, before heading out of the Bowl to the Bandstand, operating as the second “acoustic” stage and being overseen by “Sheer Music” impresario Kieran Moore. THE LOST TRADES, a loose collective of 3 local folky musicians including Tamsin Quin (whom I’d seen deliver charming pastoral acoustic sets in the past) and Phil Cooper (who supported Fij and Bickers in Oxford a couple of years back with a quirkily impressive, almost US college pop solo set) kicked off their set with a very Fleetwood Mac-like “One Voice”, an ironically named number as it was immediately evident that it was the combination of their 3 voices, intertwining and producing some lovely harmonies, that would be the feature of their delicate yet intriguing and absorbing folksy set. A jaunty “Ballad Of The Groom Of The Stools” (a true lost trade, apparently, being about the servant who used to wipe the king’s arse!) made Logan chuckle, but it was closer “Wait For My Boat To Come Home”, with its intricate harmonies, that was my favourite of a set from a band I’ll definitely see again – and soon!

 


Another wander around the Bowl, then, bumping into folks and catching up with the likes of Paul Carter, Si and Matt Hall, Steve and his charming wife Caz, a returning Mark Carter back from Aus, then, back out by the bandstand, an arriving Tim and Danny, then Gaz Brookfield! Gaz had rocked up there, as had we, to catch the 5 p.m. set from his touring buddy B-SYDES. “I’m glad to be actually playing to people’s faces!” announced Ben after kicking off his set with a robust and rambunctious solo version of the excellent “Crutches”, a real banger with the full band but still pretty damn fine in this format. The more plaintive and poignant storytelling of “This Was My City Once” followed, and a none-more-appropriate “Good Times” elicited a nip of whisky from Gaz’ hip flask! A great set from Ben, despite his worries that, “I’ve forgotten how to tune and chat in these last 18 months!” which culminated in an angular and discordant “Still In Saigon” and featured an impressive last note hold from Ben. Good work, mate, you certainly earned your subsequent planned “advanced state of refreshment”!

 


A little chat with the man before the subsequent SHUDDERS set, which initially seemed very understated and almost hushed in comparison with Ben’s performance, but then settled into a combination of relaxing and hazy 70’s West Coast Laurel Canyon vibes (the likes of opener “Thought I Saw You” and “Sorry”), and more upbeat earlier “Pirate Folk” stuff (“Words Of A Fool” and the later jig of “Lost And Broke”). By now, Stu had arrived so the Shudders formed an atmospheric backdrop to our catch-up.

 We then headed back into the by-now much busier Bowl (an earlier chat with organiser Ed Dyer revealed over 700 advance tickets were sold – well done Swindon, that’s pretty impressive!) where Dave’s old band THE CHAOS BROTHERS were delivering overt, punchy and hobnail-stompy covers of the likes of “Ever Fallen In Love” and “The Jean Genie” to universal acclaim from an increasing dancefloor (dance-field?). But we were here for our undoubted highlight of the day…

 


After GAZ BROOKFIELD AND THE COMPANY OF THIEVES’ totally understandable withdrawal from our recent Wickham Festival, we’d assumed that this was going to be another blank Brookfield year… so Logan and I were both well up for this set, so much so that I had to persuade Logan not to grab a bit of barrier until the band actually came onstage! However, when Gaz led the band on and implored us to, “gather round!” we didn’t need any further persuasion! Opener “The March Of Progress” demonstrated not only that Gaz and co., despite the forced “live” hiatus and possible lack of face to face rehearsal, really hadn’t missed a beat, but also, judging by Gaz’ impassioned roar of the “What is going… ON!!!!” hook, he was “on it” too, determined to play a blinder for the old friend Dave. “The Tale Of Gunner Haines” got Logan singing along down the front, bringing back memories of that RSD duet (!), and a galloping “World Spins Round” was ragged and racey, Gaz and co whipping through the set at quite a lick, although Gaz admitted, “the lockdown pounds have made this a lot harder work – good cardio though!” Tonight’s stage-time organiser, the esteemed Mr. Dave Franklin, got a shout out as a “piratey type” before an excellent “Land Pirate’s Life”; the inevitable “Be The Bigger Man” featured a toned down lyric of, “I grabbed the scoundrel by the throat,” in deference to the younger audience members (!); and all too soon, final number “Let The East Winds Blow” saw Gaz lead the clapping and singalong echo line, to conclude a superb festival set full of utter bangers. Great to have you back, Gaz!

 Dusk fell on the Bowl as Logan decided he was hungry, so I actually saw the early part of the follow-up set from another of Dave Young’s old bands, BOYS FROM THE COUNTY HELL, from the food queue! They were however completely as advertised, happily; a fiddly-diddly raggle taggle bunch of old Pogues fans playing their heroes’ brand of punked-up Irish folk, with a selection from MacGowan’s mob’s material covered for good measure (including, gladly, their eponymous “Boys From The County Hell” which saw me shouting, “lend me ten pounds and I’ll buy you a drink!” at my son whilst ordering his hot dog!). A lot of Spider Stacey-inspired tin whistle instrumental reels were also a feature, but the sing-and-swayalong covers of “Dirty Old Town” and closer “Jesse James” saw me and the Hall brothers sing along raucously. Good time stuff!

 

A brief break before headliners KOVA ME BADD came onstage, led by what appeared to be the Honey Monster in an old style stripe bathing suit! Their relentless cheesy covers were however a bit much for me, and when Logan asked to call it a (long) day I was fine with that. So that drew our participation in My Dad’s Bigger Than Your Dad Festival to a close; a complete success in my experience, with lots of good times, good friends and great sounds, all brought together to celebrate love, life and music. Just as Dave Young, no doubt looking down on us with a wide bandit grin, would want. Ed and co., this was simply a splendid day, you’ve all done Dave proud. Well done and thanks!