1,459 THE POPGUNS, Oxford Jericho Tavern, Tuesday 19th August 2026

 

I seem to be taking up a number of last-minute opportunities to go along to gigs at the moment, and here’s another one… My regular gig buddy Andy “Beef” had brought this one to my attention some time ago, and I’d ummed and aahed about it; the hosts, Brighton’s buoyant post-C86 indie jangle popsters The Popguns, were a band I liked fine back in the day, a couple of their more dynamic singles particularly landing well with me, whilst acknowledging they never consistently hit my female-fronted band “sweet spot” in the same way as my particular darlings of that era, namely The Parachute Men and the Heart Throbs, did. So this one remained unbooked and a potential doubt on my part, until…

Beef raised it with me again on the way to the Man/ Woman/ Chainsaw gig last Monday (gig 1,457), and it then dawned on me that the gig fell on a night that my wife was staying over in London with the daughter of the house, taking in 3 (!!!) musical shows over 2 days! So, given the choice of shit Tuesday night telly on my own (Logan likely being up in his room as usual) or a gig, the rock won out and I booked up! Felt a bit crappy in the morning, but after a quiet day I was up for it, so wandered through the alley to Beef’s mums, where he and his mate (and our driver tonight) Andy (yup, another one) were waiting. The 3 of us then picked up Dean after a weird google maps diversion, and attacked Oxford from the North, finding a free street parking spot by St. Margarets Church, a 10 minute hike from the venue. Got there at 7.20 and met Andy’s sister Min and husband Mark outside, then repaired to the fabled old Jericho upstairs room, scene of so many noted 80s/ 90s gigs (including 4 by the afore-mentioned Parachute Men, in whose honour I was t-shirted up tonight!) being greeted by a Monty Python homage (“Crucifixion?”) from Popguns guitarist Simon Pickles on the desk, before grabbing a seat and whiling away the wait with some old school gig chat. 

Beef had bumped into Popguns vocalist Wendy Morgan in the corridor, who’d given him the heads-up that they were due on at 8.30, no support. So he and I took a spot down the front of the stage, house left, along with an ample and expectant crowd of veteran indie fans. The 5 piece band took the stage through the crowd at 8.40, Wendy last with a breezy, “good evening!” before the robust guitar jangle of an equally brisk and bright “Because He Wanted To” both kicked off proceedings, and pretty much set the sonic template for the set. “It might have been 1991 when we were last at The Jericho Tavern?” queried Wendy, prompting a debate between the front row locals before an ironically titled “Finished With The Past”, then the undulating melodic chorus of a pacey “Put Me Through It” was an early highlight.

“It’s mine and Simon’s Silver Wedding Anniversary today!” announced Wendy to cheers, the subsequent indiepop groove of “Gasoline” featuring the entirely appropriate hook of, “I’m happy how my life turned out”. Odd that they’d choose to note such an auspicious occasion by playing in front of a few dozen folks in Oxford, but the “happy couple” celebrated fittingly, Wendy’s voice the key feature throughout, grown slightly softer through the years but still capable of strident power, and underpinned by hubby Simon’s intricate and undulating jangly and 80’s influenced fretwork, giving more than a nod to the likes of Johnny Marr. “Who Never Found Love” was a slight outlier for the set (“a bit of a heartbreak song; that’s a surprise coming from The Popguns,” announced Wendy), being a pastoral, slow burn and delicate ballad; “Still A World Away” was a bouncier indiepop number with a yearning vocal hook and a big crescendo outro; and a looser, almost funky “Every Dream” saw Wendy brandish a borrowed tambourine, Wendy mock complaining that it was harder to play then her usual one! 

But they’d saved the best for last; the trio of “Landslide”, “Bye Bye Baby” and my favourite “Waiting For the Winter” were all tough, dynamic and fast-paced soaring indie bangers to round off an hour of very entertaining and well-played upbeat and largely wide-eyed optimistic jangle pop from these scene veterans, much better than I’d anticipated. They even got tempted back onstage by the enthusiastic reception for a 2 song encore culminating in a singalong, swayalong “Someone You Love”. Brief chats with the band and signatures on my set-list afterwards, then a considerably easier walk back to the car (we must have taken an unnecessary dog-leg on the walk there!), home about 11.30. Last minute, yes, but entirely worthwhile in the end… Happy Anniversary to Simon and Wendy, and thanks for a good night’s indie-pop entertainment!

1,458 JIMMY EAT WORLD, Rise Against, Get Up Kids, Jay Som, Cardiff Castle, Saturday 15th August 2026

 

They’re back again in the UK, and this time after an absence of, erm, barely over a year! Our early 2000’s “live” favourites, Arizona’s affable emo/ powerpop crossovers Jimmy Eat World, announced a 25^th Anniversary US tour of their seminal breakthrough album, 2001’s “Bleed American”, which predictably was our jumping-on point for the band along with most everyone else, despite their likely wandering past us at the backstage door of the Seafood gig in Boston the previous year (gig 463, our subsequently blowing out their headlining set to go see Evan Dando instead!). Anyway, they then happily decided to bring this 25^th Anniversary party across the pond, announcing a slew of big outdoor gigs, including one at Cardiff Castle, scene of American Hi-Fi’s recent triumphant return on the Frank/ Soup undercard (gig 1,450). So we booked up for another trip across the Severn Bridge to see the Jimsters before it quickly sold out. Woah…

As the date approached, however, Rach decided this big outdoor day was a bit ambitious for her, and unfortunately we couldn’t find a short-notice replacement. Ticketmaster resale was similarly useless, being allegedly unable to shift the ticket despite it being a sell-out. Bah! So it was Logan and I off down a sun-baked M4 to the ‘diff, parking up by the CIA again and wandering through a busy city centre, entering the castle grounds via the North entrance for 4.30. Already well attended for this early stage, and with the ground baked by the Summer heatwave to a parched and dusty crisp (today being mid to high 20s but feeling hotter), so we sought shade and seating on a grassy (!) knoll by the manor house, listening to opener Jay Som from a distance. The alias of US singer Melina Duterte, she and band played a pleasant but insubstantial and eminently forgettable half hour of drifting US indie folk, which would have been better suited to Lilith Fair or an Alanis support, but here was no more than background noise to mine and Logan’s conversation.

We took a wander in, pitching up halfway back, house right, for US emo veterans Get Up Kids, next up at 6.30. Opener “Satellite” set the tone, a brisk, breathless and fast number with a similar descending verse riff to The Cavedogs’ classic “Tayter Country”, and high register, yearning vocals from stocky bearded vocalist Matt Pryor. “Valentine” was a later outlier, slower, moodier and almost touching, before an earnest, stomping “Red Letter Day” led into the more expansive, Menzingers-like newie “New Colonial”, my favourite of the set by some distance. Decent if generic post-millennial pop punk stuff overall, but a little taciturn for my liking and delivered in somewhat of a hurry, as if Get Up Kids were looking to Get Off quickly… 

We then went looking for some water, finding a water station by the bar, then popped back in for main support Rise Against at a late-feeling 7.45, following a fiddly soundcheck. A fellow punter who’d recognised me from the Frank/ Soup gig (“you’re the guy going mental for American Hi-Fi, and you fucked off straight after their set!” Guilty as charged, m’lud…) had given us the heads-up on RA and particularly vocalist Tim McIlrath, and he was spot on, McIlrath an energetic and all-action focus from the off, hopping on and off a set of 3 plinths at the front of the stage, rabble-rousing and exhorting singalongs to their earnest, sincere nu-millennial Offspring-like politico-punk. A stomping mosh emerged for second number “Satellite” (yup, both RA and Get Up Kids had songs titled “Satellite” early in their sets!), and the emo post-hardcore of “Ready To Fall” saw a call-and response with the crowd. McIlrath was also very talkative, acknowledging his job to get us warmed up and constantly praising the headliners, and also delivering a stark, mid set “Swing Life Away” part-solo. A couple more slam dance-inducing punky blasts including closer “Saviour”, and more thanks from McIlrath to Jimmy (“I first saw them in 1997!”) rounded off an entertaining main support set.

I took a not-so quick loo run (squeezing through folks to get there and back – yup, this was a busy one!), returning to find Logan had squeezed down to about half a dozen rows back from the stage. Good view! Darkness fell with a particularly abrupt thud as Jimmy Eat World took the stage unheralded at 9, lining up abreast in front of a bank of 12 lights. “What’s up everybody! We’re Jimmy Eat World,” greeted affable, black-clad vocalist Jim Adkins, the band then easing in with the militaristic drums of an understated “Clarity”. A more urgent “Blister” picked up the pace and elicited an early singalong after a frankly leaden and throwaway “Your New Aesthetic”, but it still felt the band were playing within themselves at this point, even “Lucky Denver Mint” (which followed Adkins enthusiastically announcing, “We’re celebrating the 25^th Anniversary of our album “Bleed American”!”) pleasantly chugging but lacking oomph. This gig needed a proper jump-start, and boy, was it about to get one… 

At the conclusion of “Mint”, drummer Zach Lind abandoned his stage right kit as 2 sets of roadies untethered the light banks and moved them offstage, Lind then reappearing on a new kit on a drum riser at the back of the now fully-exposed stage. Straight into the pounding drum intro and strident, slashing riffery of a brilliant “Bleed American”, heralding the start of the album run-through… and the place went nuts, a vigorous circle pit emerging next to us and completely subsuming my mosh-bound son in a cloud of dust. The blistering “A Praise Chorus” unbelievably took it up a few notches, this old bugger even braving the dust cloud to join the boisterous yet welcoming pit, Adkins incredulously praising the crowd response with “Thank you so much! When we were working on these songs we were proud of them, but had no idea that anyone would care!”

“Bleed American” is undoubtedly Jimmy Eat World’s finest recorded moment, an absolute no-skip album of the highest quality and deserving of its’ status as not only their breakthrough and defining album, but a classic of the emo punk genre. That said, it is notably front-loaded with the more upbeat numbers, the power chord strum of “The Middle” and rolling backbeat drum-powered “Sweetness” all moshpit catnip early doors, before the later, more contemplative “Side 2” numbers, such as a poignant “Hear You Me”, which saw me finding my son in the pit and stand shoulder to shoulder singing along, for a real proud dad moment. The quiet/ loud dynamics of “Get It Faster” kicked up some more dust, before Adkins revealed, “we were sleeping on floors one minute [before “BA””], then “Top Of The Pops” the next!”, then the ringing chimes of the slow-burn “Cautioners” saw a number of female punters dance and twirl in the pit, one girl being held aloft by myself and a couple of beefy chaps like a ballerina in “Swan Lake”. A lovely moment. 

The hushed, introspective “My Sundown” brought the album to a close, the band taking a  break before a 5-song encore featuring an incendiary “Pain” and the herky jerky rhythm of a fantastic, soaring singalong “Big Casino”, which joined “A Praise Chorus” and “Hear You Me” in my “top 3” favourite numbers of the night. By this time, we’d extracted ourselves from the dust cloud for more water and a watching brief near the back, so at the opening bars of slow-burn set closer “23” we slowly headed off, through a boisterous city centre (lots of footy fans already here for tomorrow’s Community Shield!) to the car, driving home for just after midnight while Logan slept off his moshpit efforts. Feeling battered and coughing up dust all the next day, but well worth it for another brilliant Cardiff show (2 in succession!) from Jimmy Eat World, this time doing absolute justice to a seminal album in “Bleed American”!

1,457 MAN/WOMAN/CHAINSAW, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Monday 10th August 2026

 

For the second Monday in a row, I’m scooting down the M4 for a CD release show at Bristol’s Rough Trade Records, but this one promises to be quite different from last week’s… I  was recommended South London sextet, the curiously named Man/Woman/Chainsaw, by a Spotify algorithm earlier this year, and I’m pleased to say they pegged me right in this instance! Far from the crashing metallic aggressiveness that their name implies, this four girl, two guy bunch offer something more eclectic and beguiling, and much more melodic, initial listens to their material variously recalling the likes of Blondie, Alvvays and even my 90’s faves The Heart Throbs in their spooky harmonic tuneage (hmmm, I have been playing a lot of Heart Throbs stuff on Spotify this year: I wonder if that was behind the recommendation?), and even oldies such as Nick Cave, Leonard Cohen and Patti Smith in their more brooding moments. I did say eclectic, right? Anyhoo, I’d booked for their impending Autumn Thekla show before tix became as scarce as rocking horse poo, but they then added a release show for debut album “Cannonball” in Bristol too. So, two for two, then…

This lot had landed firmly in Beef’s wheelhouse as well (he was a Heart Throbs fan of old too…!), so I wandered round to his mums and he drove us down a sun-kissed M4 (the 2026 heatwave Summer furnace still on full blast). Got to our usual Rupert Street landing spot, however, to discover signage suggesting it had gone over to QPark app payment only! “The Tyranny of Apps” (tm. me!) strikes again, as I then took 20 minutes trying to download, validate via my google, my bank and my email (so much for “making parking simple”) and then totally fail to log our session… however we then found a QPark employee outside who said it hadn’t been fully installed so that was a complete waste of time! Well, at least tonight’s parking was free… However, that delay, plus our queueing up in the wrong queue at the gig (in the bar queue, which stretched outside, as opposed to the entry queue, which didn’t!) meant that we got in the already busy – and hot! – back room at 10 past 7 for this sellout gig, straining for a view from our halfway-back spot. Bah!

Anyway, the 6-piece Man/Woman/Chainsaw crowded onto the small stage at the appointed hour, standing line abreast apart from drummer Lola Cherry, and proceeded to play all of the album in chronological order, with one exception… This meant they led in with their most melodic pure “pop” number, the choral harmony barrage of “Only Girl”, the electric violin touches of the excellently named Clio Starwood already to the fore. In fact, the violin was front and centre for much of the set, offering a real point of distinction to the Man/Woman/Chainsaw sound, particularly giving their slower, broodier numbers such as the subsequent “Canyons” and even the more piano-led late night jazz bar smoocher “Lighter” a haunting, eerie air. 

As I mentioned, Man/Woman/Chainsaw are quite the eclectic bunch, the violin and occasional piano contributing to this, but also material-wise, as they veer from that “Only Girl” pastoral pop, through growling Cohen/Violent Femmes-esque murder ballad territory (an early “Goddamn, Lizard Man!”) and Rialto-like 60’s B Movie menace (“Flick Of The Wrist”) to outright, riff-tastic wig-out grunge (“The Thing”). Also frequently swapping vocal chores between front persons Vera Leppanen and Billy Ward, this gives the band and tonight’s set a varied and oft-schizophrenic air, which is nonetheless snatched from the precipice of deliberate art-wank pretentiousness by the strength of the songwriting, a neat trick for such a young band. And as for that “exception”… A word of thanks from an otherwise taciturn band preceded easily their best number (and a shoe-in for my “Best Of 2026” compo CD), the upbeat synth pitter patter and overlaid dual line choral harmonics of “Nosedive”, the coruscating and hypnotic outro build also recalling Stereolab, and rounding off an inventive and intriguing, if occasionally uncomfortably hot 45 minutes set.

By now, Beef and I were holding a watching brief at the back, so were in a decent spot for the signing sesh with the band in the store afterwards. A quick chat with a friendly bunch, keyboardist Emmie-Mae Avery particularly taken with my red suede creepers and my justification for wearing them – life’s too short to wear crap shoes, indeed! Back home therefore about 9.30 to again catch up on my Monday night TV quiz binge before hitting the hay. So yup, what a difference a week makes… much louder, much busier, yet still a fun evening out, this time with a highly inventive and promising new band in Man/Woman/Chainsaw. The “Dirty Boat” will be rocking for their November gig, no messin’…

1,456 I SEE ORANGE, King Attitude, Misanthropic Vision, Swindon The Victoria, Thursday 6th August 2026

 

I am gratified to note that, for the first time in a while (probably my first viewing of Raze*Rebuild back in 2016, in fact), one of my, if not my overall actual, favourite new band finds this year comes from my home town Swindon! (Well, the ‘don via Mexico, in the cast of vocalist Giselle Medina, but still…). I See Orange impressed greatly at Swinterfest earlier this year (gig 1,426) with some hard and heavy grunge-influenced tuneage and riffery; familiar elements, sure, but delivered with enthusiasm, verve and no little talent, with Giselle’s strident tones a feature. Further listens to their material at the gym inveigled their songs even further into my consciousness and put them firmly on my gig radar, hence my grabbing a ticket for this one-off Thursday Vic showing, in advance of a first full-length album release…

So I trundled up the hill just after 8, parking in the free spot around the corner from the Town Gardens and wandering in just as openers Misanthropic Vision were kicking into their set. Definitely not my cup of heavy nu-metal and screamy emo, I’m afraid, with their numbers also rather jarringly seeming to change tempo mid-song without any proper flow, giving the impression of being Frankensteined together. A shame, as the ebullient female vocalist actually had a decent voice when she put her mind to it, but instead seemed to prefer that tuneless nu-Metal howl. I abandoned their set after 3 numbers, as did Dean, so we sat in the quieter bar and chatted before Beef turned up. Back in for King Attitude, a more veteran band of post-hardcore/ UK82 purveyors splitting their set between originals (a one chord wonder about a visit to the STD clinic typical of their oeuvre) and covers (roughhouse rants through The Stooges “No Fun” and a superfast “White Riot” nonetheless pricking up my old punk rock ears). Again, a bit hard on the ears for me, so back to the bar, chatting with regular gig friend Jo and also old Chiseldon gig buddy Paul!

From the (faintly) ridiculous to the sublime; engrossed in conversation, Paul and I then heard I See Orange’s set kick off, so we quickly repaired to the back room venue, sneaking through an ample but not packed crowd to a spot down the front next to big ISO fan Beef, house right. Said opener, “La Bruja” was a cracking opener, hitting the ground running with a strident Scarce/ Veruca Salt post-grunge powerpop vibe. “Morbid”, next up, slowed the pace slightly with a clapalong dreampop guitar opening, ceding to a roaring chorus and thunderous outro, Giselle taking aim at the crowd with a couple of bubble guns (!), and the quiet/ loud grungy growler “Love Me Too” was preceded by Giselle’s explanation of the premise of the song, as a love song for Kurt Cobain!

In fact, Kurt’s ghost and grunge rock legacy permeated this set like words through a stick of rock, with many of the numbers on show tonight sharing that quiet/ loud grunge dynamic and thrashy power chord base. However, I See Orange are more than simply Nirvana copyists; inspired by that era and attitude, there are other 90’s indie and alt-rock elements and references on show, and as previously mentioned, their hooky choral builds are delivered with energy, dynamism and vitality, with the gregarious Giselle in particular a flexible, kinetic focal point. “Simply” had more of a Pixies-ish creepy bass intro leading to a Dia Del Muertos funereal march; the bass intro of “Fairy”, next up, was a nod in homage to Joy Division’s “Transmission” before its more sleazoid Iggy feel; and following a more mellow and introspective “Bones And Gold” (“a more sentimental type of song,” remarked Giselle, also apparently only its’ second “live” outing), “Wine Boy” was probably my set highlight, a sturdy and upbeat slab of growling 90’s powerpop.

A couple of new numbers (“not even on the album!” according to Giselle, hard-hitting drummer Charlie Hart asking, “how does it go?!”) in the edgy “Upstairs” and the riff-powered gallop of “Cold Blooded” led us up to set closer, Giselle challenging us to “go crazy! Locos!” to the Veruca Salt-esque sleazoid rocker of “Mental Rot”, rounding off an impressive, strident and powerful yet surprisingly proficiently delivered set. A quick chat with old colleague Stella afterwards, before chatting all things Kurt and 90’s rock with post-grunge student Giselle for awhile, then last man out of the venue (!) and home about 11.30. A band to loom large in my gig radar in future, then (probably starting with their Album Release Show at the same venue next month!), I See Orange may not just be the best band in Swindon right now, but one to hopefully break out of the ‘don in future for greater things. I for one will be watching closely…

1,455 JONATHAN MEIBERG, Bristol Rough Trade Records "Listening Bar", Monday 3rd August 2026

 

This one was an impromptu and very last minute happening; in fact I got a text during the morning from my gig buddy Stu, asking if I fancied accompanying him to Bristol that very evening, for an acoustic set and signing session by Jonathan Meiberg? I initially pushed this one back, given that Meiberg’s band, brooding US alt-Americana nature buffs Shearwater, had somewhat dropped off my radar since their nonetheless fine 2016 effort “Jet Plane And Oxbow” and accompanying Fleece gig (no. 975); however further research at the gym at lunchtime (i.e. listening to new album “The New World”, the release of which tonight’s gig showcases) plus re-reading of my gig blog (subsequently finding out I’d enjoyed that 2016 Shearwater gig more than I remembered) persuaded me around. Enough sweeping melancholy on show, building up to crashing crescendos (which I appreciate we wouldn’t get tonight, but still…), to make me fancy a signed copy and an evening out with an old friend, then…

So I picked Stu up on a baking hot late afternoon (32 degrees!) for a happily air-conditioned drive down the M4. Just me and Stu, as wife Lorraine had baulked at the heat, deciding to pass on the gig rather than pass out at the gig! Caught up with the man – surprisingly our first gig together this year! – before parking up in Rupert Street and hitting the small “Listening Bar” at the back, where the gig was to take place (as opposed to the usual 200 capacity “live room”). Took a window seat halfway back as the place filled, some 2 dozen or so punters surprising Meiberg as he emerged around the corner at 7.15. “How quiet can we make it in here, because this [his voice] IS the PA!” he admitted on arrival, and sure enough, this became a rare event in my gig annals (joining Del Amitri at the Riflemans, gig 36, and very few others!); a set without any amplification whatsoever!

Happily, the audience was respectfully pin-drop silent, but this still meant that Meiberg’s soft, nuanced and regularly high-register tones and delicate, intricate strumming was still competing for attention with the sound of buses, seagulls (ironically enough) and general city hubbub coming through the (necessarily) open back door. Nonetheless, we listened as best we could from our halfway-back spot as the man wove his understated slow-burn, wallowing and doleful spell. An early “More And More” was mournful and melancholy, Meiberg’s dark, low and haunting vocal recalling Scott Walker for me; “Daydream Unbeliever”, next up, was similarly stark, but saw Meiberg cut loose a little more for the vocal hook (Meiberg stressing at its’ conclusion that the strings on record are, “absolutely not fucking synthesisers!”); and after a more upbeat oldie “Animal Life”, the undulating verse and backwoods American Gothic folk of “Slugs In The Marigolds” (a cornerstone of the new album) was followed by Meiberg assuring us, “the slug [in the video] was not harmed in any way – I just gave it a day out!” before praising its’ comic timing!

Unfortunately, thereafter the set got a little quieter from our seats, the external hubbub often drowning out Meiberg’s delicate delivery, but as ever we strained our lugholes to the max. A windswept and bleak “Snow Leopard” featured an impressively held high note to end; the audience joined in a later number with the quietest humalong in history; and a slow, smooth and reverential reading of The Velvet Underground’s late night bar room paean “New Age” closed out quite the quietest set of all of my gigging days!

A quick chat about Bowie (Meiberg being a huge fan) and pic with the man afterwards as he signed our CDs, before a run back, home at 9.15 and still in time to catch up on my Monday night TV quiz shows! Despite the hush, this was still an enjoyable evening, a good catch-up with Stu, and a promising new album to bring Shearwater back onto my gigging radar. However, I’d certainly hope next time will be a WHOLE LOT LOUDER!!!

1,454 WILDERNESS STATES, Salvador Scott, Swindon The Castle, Thursday 23rd July 2026

 

Another one close to home, this, which suits my petrol consumption and carbon footprint, I guess! This time it’s for one of local gig impresario Ed Dyer’s “Songs Of Praise” Thursday Night Music Club events at the Old Town’s venerable Castle pub, tonight’s musical hosts being Oxford 5-piece Wilderness States. I’d received enough recommendations from learned gig colleagues (Ed himself, Beef, plus Oxford based mate Rich Craven) to check them out; they initially took a minute to land with me, but a couple more listens (at the gym earlier in the day!) started to unpeel the onion and reveal an alt-rock band of stately grandeur and promise. As ever, however, the acid test is “live”, so let’s see…

Drove up the hill, meeting Beef and mate Jas in the car park, plus Facebook friend Geoffrey, the “Head” of music and a fine gent to whom even my head must bow, in terms of knowledge and enthusiasm for “live” music (one of only 2 folks I’d admit that about, the other one also being called Jeff!)! We hit the Castle, taking seats in the back room and chatting as the band soundchecked. Another plus point for tonight’s gig for me was support Salvador Scott, former vocalist of locals Nostromo (a band I meant to see but the stars never aligned) but more importantly, the son of my old school friend (and occasional member of our curry table, despite living in Reading these days) Michael! Armed with a battered old acoustic, Salvador played a charming solo set veering from pastoral lo-fi indie evoking Scots Big Star acolytes such as The Vaselines, BMX Bandits et al (viz. opener “Fireflies”) to late 60’s post-psychedelia LA Laurel Canyon folk rock, via “Laika Shooting Star” which had an offbeat, quintessentially English 60’s Kinks vibe. A couple of well-chosen covers, particularly The Stone Roses’ “Fools Gold” (which required – and got! – some dextrous and intricate picking) enlivened his set, as did his deadpan and dismissive between song banter (“I hate the opening lines [to “Laika..”] so I’m going to sing them quietly” and “everyone having a good time? And it’s going to get better; but not if I play that…!” being two examples) and general mannerisms, which reminded me so strongly of my similarly offbeat and unique old friend, a point I made to Salvador afterwards… 

Thanks to Ed for this pic of Salvador... I forgot to take one myself!

A quick turnaround saw the headliners take the stage at 9.30 in front of a score or so interested parties, kicking in with the discordant opening of “Mighty Thames” which, like it’s titular subject, meandered through a changing stop-start landscape of melodic melancholy. The subsequent “Piece Of Mine” had a more dramatic build towards a widescreen soaring chorus with strident vocalist Shauna Reed’s impressive pipes a feature, more aptly setting the tone for the set. 

I’d initially baulked on Wilderness States as I thought I heard shades of The Cranberries in their sound (a band I never got on with at all), but happily repeated listens, plus tonight’s performance, proved first impressions can be wide of the mark. The Wilderness States modus operandi is instead more akin to the wallowing bedsit ennui of The National or “Bends”-era Radiohead (i.e. before they got all pretentious and prog on us), with backbeat drum patterns and shimmering, intricate guitar work weaving a hazy, dolorous atmosphere, before more dramatic builds to windswept, epic choral hooks and louder crescendo outros, powered by Shauna’s sonorous tones, which often recall the propulsive yet dispassionate tones of a Siouxsie or a Florence. It’s serious stuff – they’re not likely to cover “Shiny Happy People” any time soon – but the blend of strident atmospheric melancholy gives their sound an epic grace and poise. “Eden”’s brooding, understated verse nevertheless ceded to a trademark big chorus; “The Capture” tested Shauna’s vocals with a lengthy choral note which was held immaculately; and, following Shauna’s remark of, “we’re only halfway through! This is the longest set we’ve ever played!”, a more morose and elegiac “Don’t Try Falling” was my set highlight thus far, the keyboard flourishes leading into a typically dramatic denouement, the band commenting, “that’s as depressing as it gets – it’s uphill from here!”

 The penultimate “Black White Red”, a slight outlier with a more upbeat, pseudo Goth tinge almost recalling 2:54 or Desperate Journalist’s more contemplative moments, probably pipped “Don’t Try Falling” for me, but overall this was an impressively delivered set of well-constructed and atmospheric numbers from a band I’d like to see more often. Quick chats with guitarist Matty (who’d called me out for making notes during the set!) and a lengthier one with Ed, before I scooted down the hill and home. Wilderness States are back in the ‘don for the Autumn Shuffle – I’ll be doing my damndest to make sure I’m there too!

1,453 EXTC, Jim Blair, Mickelson, Swindon Town Gardens Bowl, Saturday 18th July 2026

 

Keeping it close to home after a few long-haul trips chasing American Hi-Fi around the country; this one was a choice between another tiring shlep up to the Smoke in a suspect automobile (amber ABS warning lights which shouldn’t be an issue but, given my total lack of automotive engineering knowledge, any amber dash light is a worry to me) to see a band I’d seen the last 3 years in a row, or a local jaunt up the hill to Swindon’s open-air Old Town Gardens Bowl, to again pay homage to the back catalogue of the ‘don’s greatest musical sons, 70’s punk/ new wave art rockers turned Beatles pop acolytes XTC, via the good offices of original XTC drummer Terry Chambers and his ersatz and ever-changing EXTC line up. Really sorry, Midway Still and Mezzanine, but the 85-miles closer gig won out for me…

The gates to the Bowl actually opened at 2.30 with the opening act shortly thereafter, but I watched the Belgian GP qualifying instead and was given a lift up the hill by my dear lady wife! Hit the venue at ¼ to 5, running into old mate Paul Carter and folks for a chat, before taking a spot on the sunkissed slope, extreme house right, for Mickelson at 5, being joined variously during his set by local music impresario Dave Franklin, and old mate Rich May! San Fran native Scott Mickelson and an all-star pop-up band of expert local players (including Jon Buckett and Chris Webb from Gaz Brookfields band, plus virtuoso local drummer Lee Moulding) played a set of dusty Americana which at best recalled the American Gothic vibes of “Fables”-era R.E.M. or the shimmering textural acoustics of early Grant Lee Buffalo (the man unsurprisingly referencing his Appalachian roots with, “it’s a place in the South – poorly educated…”), but often ventured into more trad-Country for my tastes. A few anti-Trump diatribes also got on the good side of the Saturday afternoon picnickers and sun-worshippers during a pleasant but overlong (1¼ hours) set.

I joined Rich and his charming wife Helen for a proper catch-up during the next act at 6.45, a solo turn from local Jim Blair. I like the man but again, his stomping old school pedal steel blues and tales of whisky-soaked nights (although Jim noted his 10 month sobriety anniversary during his set) aren’t my cup of tea, so his sliding riffs and rasping vocals were the backdrop of my catch-up with friends. I did however like the closing number of his (again overlong) set, a run-through of The Jungle Book’s “Bare Necessities”!

Another wander saw me find friend Paul who was camped with mutual buddy Ben on the periphery of the bowl, house left. Ben had brought a camping chair for me – nice! So I joined them for the arrival of EXTC spot on at 8.30, our seated view immediately becoming obscured by the rush of folks to the front! So, we stood as the now 4-piece EXTC (featuring 2 new guys since my last time out last March, gig 1,374) eased in with bright, poppy keyboard-embellished openers “This Is Pop” and “Statue Of Liberty”, followed by the angular backbeat of “Ball And Chain” and an impromptu crowd rendition of “Happy Birthday” to Mr. Chambers! A bright start, then, but for a while afterwards it all went a little understated, polite, dull even… a plethora of slower album deep cuts drifted by slowly and perfunctorily (and often a little out of key, I’m sorry to admit) and I remarked to Paul, “I’m waiting to be excited…”The plaintive descending bass of a well-delivered “Peter Pumpkinhead” briefly threatened, but the subsequent “Mayor Of Simpleton”, which should have really ignited things, sounded a little bereft of its’ usual bounce. C’mon lads… 

Finally things kicked into gear with the angular snark of “Respectable Street” and brilliant bolshy bounce of set highlight “No Thugs In Our House”. Finally, a gig’s breaking out! “Sgt. Rock” was fulsome and singalong; the segue from “Cuba” into “Generals And Majors” rather excellent; then the “encore” saw main vocalist Terry Lines introduce “special guest – all the way from Swindon”, old XTC guitarist Dave Gregory on, Lines quipping, “two out of four isn’t bad!” A rousing choral singalong to “Senses Working Overtime” was then topped by the languid sway of “Towers Of London” and inevitable gig highlight, the taut backbeat of herky jerky New Wave classic “Life Begins At The Hop” to close things out. 

We set off quickly to Paul’s car so as not to miss much of the England World Cup 3^rd Place game (good thing too, as it was a best-of-tournament 6-4 win!) musing on the performance. Started brightly, then a lull, some inconsistent stuff before a very strong finish – EXTC that is, not England! Great to see Chambers and Gregory on the same stage too, so despite the uneven-ness, I’m glad I kept this close to home!