1,439 IST IST, The Youth Play, Bristol Thekla, Friday 24th April 2026

 

A fiery and eventful one again! Manchester’s own brooding dark goth-adjacent post-punk types Ist Ist are becoming a fixture on my “Dance Cards” of late, so when the tour for their recently-released 5^th (!) album “Dagger” took in a date on Bristol’s splendid “Dirty Boat”, this was a “must book”! Initial listens of said album reveal a more expansive anthemic feel, with an increased prominence of 80’s sheet synth in the sound. Voluble bassist Andy Keating had indicated the intent was to write a set of songs more suited to the “live” environment, and on initial listens at least they’ve succeeded, but the proof of the pudding is, as ever, on the stage itself (to mix my metaphors somewhat). They’ve not let me down so far “live”, so let’s see… 

An early departure saw me into a sunny and busy Bristol just after 6.30 doors; however the Thekla car park was already rammed with sun-seeking beer garden punters’ motors, so I parked in the nearby Portwall Lane car park, hitting the venue for a loo stop and grabbing a house left spot, a couple of rows back, well in time for The Youth Play’s support set at 7. And glad I was of that; I’d enjoyed their October Drift support set at The Joiners last April (gig 1,379), but tonight was a whole other kettle of fish. From the off they were tremendous; opener “Maybe This Was All For Us” was a breathless cascade of tumbling drums and urgent post-punk guitar, “A Fair Life” followed with a darker, more regimental drum powered vibe, whilst “After A Moment” added an extra dimension to this dynamic post-punk sound, with a more introspective vibe recalling the shimmering soundscapes of Kitchens of Distinction. Vocalist Diego Bracho again impressed with his deep, resonant baritone, low yet expressive, although drummer Finley Bruce just pipped him for MVP honours with a series of propulsive, tumbling and almost tribal drum patterns; no surprise given his Killing Joke t-shirt! “Sunday” (“our next single; about getting drunk on Sunday,” advised Diego) was a brilliant My Vitriol like sparkling dervish hurtle, with the spoken, stream of consciousness vocals of equally frantic closer “If We Just Ever Were” closing out a quite superb set. A band melding various guitar styles (grunge, post-punk, shoegaze) into a dynamically coherent whole; Youth Play are now the real deal…

Follow that, Ist Ist! A chat with Kev, a chap I’d previously met at an October Drift gig here, passed the time until the band joined us at 9 (one minute after the p.a. had started playing “Marquee Moon”! Bah!), the undulating synth pulse of opener “Encouragement” easing us in. “We’re having technical issues; talk amongst yourselves!” announced sonorous vocalist Adam Houghton, before a pacier “Warning Signs” was followed by the more funereal, haunting “Burning” and the “Light A Bigger Fire” double salvo of the abrupt yet careering “Lost My Shadow” and regimented, Interpol-esque “The Kiss”. It all sounded fine, Adam’s voice as eerily clipped and monotone as ever, and bassist Adam Keating, leather and sunglasses firmly in place (calling out sunglass-wearing punters with a dismissive, “you can all fuck off! We should be the only ones wearing them!”) as ever looking like the indie rock star from central casting, brandishing his instrument like a flagpole; however it initially felt a little flat, particularly after Youth Play, and needed something… 

The haunting, early New Order-esque newie “Makes No Difference” promised better, the crowd finally moving along, and “Mary In The Bedroom”’s striped back moody intro build to a pacier climax maintained momentum. However slowie “Love Song” then saw a big drunk bloke barrel forward, shoving punters aside (including myself and a couple of girls in front of me – more on them later) to grab a totally underserved handshake with the singer, before, glassily eyed, barging his way back. What a twat! Ironically, thereafter Ist Ist really kicked into gear, as did (most of) the crowd, rocking along to the set mid-section. Then…

On the intro notes of the echoey, atmospheric oldie “Emily”, another hefty chap and his lady pushed through to stage front and centre, trying to initiate a slam-dance mosh. The lady dancer however piled rather aggressively into the 2 girls who’d previously been unceremoniously shoved aside by the drunk bloke, who this time pushed back; then the bloke got all up in their faces and things looked like kicking off for a sec, but sense prevailed and they moved a couple of rows back to continue dancing.

(A tough one to navigate, this; on the one hand, the dancing couple were super-aggressive in comparison to other dancing punters, plus (according to the photo guy during our post-gig chat) the guy was all, “how many gigs have you been to???” to the girls, displaying gatekeeping entitlement of the worst kind. On the other, the 2 girls never moved a muscle all night, despite folks dancing all around them, plus Adam’s repeated requests for Bristol to get moving. There’s places at gigs to stand stock still and watch, and they ain’t the front…) 

Anyhoo, back to the gig; Adam thanked the by-now much more engaged audience before the dark, savage backbeat of oldie “Nights Arm”; the widescreen and expansive, Talk Talk-esque synth-driven build of “Repercussions” was my overall set highlight; and Andy greeted the punters on the balcony, enquiring, “is there anyone behind the cages [to the sides]? I feel like Johnny Cash in Fulsom Prison…” before the almost jolly, 80’s “Hope To Love” and urgent, metronomic “You’re Mine” rounded off a set which happily had come nicely to the boil. The Kraftwerkian industrial synth sound to “Here Comes The Fear” and growling, punkier closer “Stamp You Out” were encore punctuations; band lists went early but after a little mooch I noticed one still stuck up on the stage side, a roadie unpinning it for me. Result! Extensive chats with the Youth Play boys, particularly drummer Finley about the Joke (my first ever gig, of course!), then preceded a wait outside for the Ist Ist boys to emerge; ultimately, I chatted with the photo guy who then popped backstage for signatures for my list and “Daggers” CD. Result! Again… Drove home reflecting on the gig, home at 10 past 11. Ultimately I’ll overlook the hassle and remember 2 excellent performances, with The Youth Play on fire from the outset, and Ist Ist more of an initial smoulder before the flames really took hold and built to their usual widescreen conflagration. Either way, hot stuff from both bands!

1,438 IDLEWILD, Zoe Graham, Oxford O2 Academy, Tuesday 14th April 2026

 

Lately it seems that whenever Celtic windswept indie survivors Idlewild crop up on my “Dance Card”, it’s usually attached to some event or other, or it’s eventful…! We’d caught them on their initial tour of best-for-ages new album, the eponymous “Idlewild”, last October in Bristol (gig 1,410), the occasion then being Rachel’s and my 20^th Wedding Anniversary (also the 20^th anniversary of our seeing them 3 times during our US West Coast honeymoon!). So when they announced a Spring 2026 10 date second leg of said tour scooping up gigs in hitherto unvisited towns and cities, what would that coincide with? Why, Rachel’s birthday of course! It’s actually tomorrow (15^th), but my dear lady wife tends to make a week of it, so…

An eventful evening started late; returning from the wilds of Oxfordshire after the daughter’s dance lesson and a painful attempt to fuel the car in Sainsburys, we set off late after dropping her off at grandmas, then endured a 20 minute wait to clear 4-way traffic roadworks! Bah! No surprise then that the Cowley Tesco car park was full on our arrival, but we jumped into a side street spot and hit the surprisingly quiet venue at ¼ to 8, being stopped for carrying pens into the venue (!!) but still snagging a near-front spot, house right. Support Zoe Graham was on prompt at 8; a slightly built girl with a make-up smear on the bridge of her nose which made her look vaguely Bajoran (!), she and her band delivered a very 80’s MTV/ FM So-Cal rock radio sounding set which at best had the expansive lazy shimmer of War On Drugs (“Shift This Feeling”), delved into more angular funk based stuff (“Evelin”) but overall was eminently listenable and header-edged than the wispy pop vignettes we’d heard from her previously. Sonically, it felt like she had designs to be a female Sam Fender, but she was an engaging and likeable presence, chatting about her mum playing Fanny Craddock in a video, and offering the initially-recalcitrant Oxford crowd a free personality test before best-of-set closer, the hooky manifesto number “Divine Female Energy”.

The place filled up but was still a couple of hundred below capacity (t’uh, Oxford…), but those present were buoyant and anticipatory, giving Idlewild a rowdy reception on their arrival at 5 past 9 following a crooner intro track. And they responded in kind; immediately into the pacy “You Held The World In Your Arms” and the anthemic blare of excellent newie “Like I Had Before”. Roddy, humble and understated as ever, then greeted the crowd, promising to, “pull up some old songs for you,” proving true to his word with a frantically groovy “When I Argue I See Shapes”, the growling opening of “Interview Music” building to a crescendo for an unexpected early highlight, then the moody build and call-and-response hook of “Roseability”, Roddy taking to the stage wings to allow his guitarists to provide the jumping jack visual focus, Rod Jones and Allan Stewart throwing shapes and hopping on and off the monitors with kinetic enthusiasm. Great start! 

Idlewild fall within the genre of 90’s/ 00s indie/ alt-rock, albeit differentiated from their contemporaries by their windswept, atmospheric sonic approach, evoking mountainous landscape vistas, and Roddy’s studiously oblique, oft-looping, contradictory and almost poetic lyricism (also resulting in some fairly long song titles!). On a good night, what they also are, however, is a magnificently kinetic and dynamic “live” band, much more coherent than the young bucks I first saw in 1998 (gig 369, an era which the NME famously described as sounding, “like a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs”) yet still retaining that thrilling, propulsive edge “live”. This was definitely one of those nights; following this brilliant opening salvo, the circular synth pattern and melancholy build of “Ends With Sunrise” was followed by the elegiac yet anthemic “Love Steals Us From Loneliness”, giving us a welcome breather; Roddy reminisced about their first Oxford gig (“the Point in 1998; it was 120 degrees!”) before the inclusive and soaring “American English”, and the plaintive piano intro to “El Capitan” led into a widescreen and soaring version. Then, however, it all got a bit tricky… 

A couple of blokes who had been shouting at guitarist Allan then decided to continue a loud conversation through “Capitan”, prompting Rachel to turn and shout, “will you SHUT the FUCK UP!!” into their bemused faces. After a second scolding from my incensed wife, I swapped places with her before it escalated, and in all honesty never heard another peep out of them! And the band played on; a thrillingly savage and visceral double of “Modern Way” and “Film For The Future” ended the set proper, then a 3 song encore capped with the tempo changing and sculpted “Remote Part” ended an outstanding performance, the band taking deserved bows. A quick list, then a magical mystery tour journey home which was still ½ hour shorter than the outward trip, daughter collected and home for 11.40. So, an “event”-ful evening, but the brilliant Idlewild performance will be our overarching memory. Another happy (almost) birthday gig for Rachel!

1,437 TINY STILLS, Supp. Cheerbleederz, Top Shortage, Bristol Exchange Basement, Friday 10th April 2026

 

I’ve been waiting for this one for a while, actually… I’d picked up on LA’s Tiny Stills back in 2020, those dark days of Covid lockdown being enlivened by a few choice recommendations from the “Revolt Into Style” facebook new music page… and most notably, the bright, snappy indie-powerpop bounce of Tiny Stills’ effervescent “Craigslist Bed”, which ultimately topped my singles selection for that year and featured prominently on my 2020 “Best of” CD. I’d been keeping track of the band ever since and hoping they’d manage to make it across the pond, so I booked for the Bristol show immediately when they finally did put together a short UK run, dual-headlining with apparent kindred spirits in London’s Cheerbleederz. 

An economy run down a sunny M4 got me parked in my “loading” spot opposite the venue at 7.30; wandered downstairs, avoiding the emo kids who were queueing for the band in the main room, and ran into Bristol gig friend Louise down the front! A catch up with her and Alan, a fellow veteran gig-goer, passed the time until openers Top Shortage at 8. Initially easing in with opener “Toi”, an eerie slow burner building to a more abrasive howling guitar outro and sung in French by imposing trans vocalist Noa Laqueche, they then delved into more combative and tension-filled post-punk jangle, immediately recalling the likes of The Fall and particularly Au Pairs in both sonic template and in-your-face delivery. “Welcome to the angry part of the set; I’ve got a lot of feelings and I’m expressing them onstage!” announced Noa before the confrontational, almost Crass-like anti-transphobe paean of “Mirror”, again dominated by Noa’s impassioned vocal. Indeed, the later, tempo-changing set highlight “Susan Stryker” saw her abandon the stage altogether and properly get in the faces of the assembled. A band with a lot to say, then, and a dynamic and determined but very articulate and listenable way of saying it…

A quick loo break before I grabbed my spot again for Tiny Stills, the trio taking the stage at 8.45, with diminutive yet sparkling vocalist Kailynn West tentatively asking, “shall we rock?” before announcing the band’s first Bristol date with “Schadenfreude”, an ebullient slab of doo-wop inflected pop punk, apparently, “about hating people!” The wide-eyed, if slightly raw and ragged, bounce of “Craigslist Bed” and the Pixies/ grunge-lite Letters To Cleo-esque “Not Dead Yet” followed in short order to an enthusiastic reception (myself already throwing shapes down the front), low-slung bassist Chris Clark announcing at its’ conclusion, “Bristol’s the best city we’ve been to yet!” 

Tiny Stills’ self-professed modus operandi is apparently to deliver “Pop Songs For Sentimental Punks”, and for all their upbeat chiming guitars, C86-esque innocent vocal deliveries and gushing enthusiasm, there’s an darker and more serious lyrical edge to Tiny Stills work. “This song’s about divorce,” was an introduction used on more than one occasion, and the strident shouted hook of “We Really Felt Something” was preceded by a lengthy preamble from Kailynn about finding hope and joy in these dark times. Then, following a grungier “Everything Is Going Great”, during which 2 Cheerbleederz joined on backing vocals, the set took a more introspective turn to finish; Kailynn advised us that Avery, their intended 4^th member, was struggling with food poisoning in London which forced a rethink of their set, with the plaintive strumalong of “Bait And Switch” and a couple of solo Kailynn numbers in the emotionally charged “Space X” and “Delete All Future Events” rounding off a fine set, both of the last numbers again preceded by a lengthy exploration of their difficult and highly personal subject matter, but again flipping the narrative to focus on hope.

I took a break outside afterwards, returning for part of Cheerbleederz set; I liked “Cute As Hell”, a dumb but enjoyable Ramones-esque pop punk romp from this distaff power trio, but could have done without their cover of Cher’s cheesy 80’s hit “Believe”. Perhaps if I caught them on a different day I’d have enjoyed them more (although chances for that may be scarce in the near future, one of the band alluding to their needing to take a “pregnant pause”…!), but after the in-your-face polemic of the openers and the bouncy yet thought-provoking Tiny Stills, they seemed a little, well, insubstantial really… So I grabbed a chat with an enthusiastic Kailynn and got my list signed before making an early exit, home for 11. Well worth the wait for Tiny Stills, then, a band who revealed some hidden lyrical depths tonight to go with the Cleos-esque powerpop. Nice one folks!

1,436 CRYSTAL TIDES, Luna Bay, Chasing Kites, Bristol Thekla, Friday 20th March 2026

 

A Larry Last-Minute one, this; and a freebie too – my favourite gig ticket price! Gig buddy Jeremy was planning to catch one of his current “Hot Tips”, Portsmouth’s Crystal Tides, with his dear lady wife, but she unfortunately cried off poorly, hence my late shout! I’d not paid any attention to this lot before, and in all honesty, if I’d have read their purported influences before listening (the likes of Arctic Monkeys, Wombats and Catfish and the Bottlemen looming large in their online biog) I might have chucked them in with the current slew of indie guitar band landfill. A couple of listens however revealed a band with an ear for a heartfelt and anthemic choral hook within that upbeat indie template, recalling for me the likes of The Menzingers, Inhaler, and even Eli’s dad’s lot U2 (80’s era). I’m all about the tunes, me…

I set off about 5 for an easy economy run, parking up at 1 minute past 6 to avail myself of the Thekla Car Park’s flat rate! Met Jeremy and headed in at 6.30 doors (website said 6 but tix said 6.30!), checking out the merch on the way by and picking up a “special” copy of Crystal Tides’ new CD “Toothpaste” from guitarist Neil Cripps. Grabbed a front spot house right for black-clad local openers Chasing Kites at 7.00; their opener “London Skies” was as bleak and moody as the title, a dark post-punk vibe with some resonant chiming and textural guitar work a la Sargeant or McGeoch, and a rich dolorous vocal from singer Matt Donnelly, setting the tone nicely for their set. “Luna” (“our most successful song!” according to the singer) featured a shoegaze-adjacent (shoeglance?) Kitchens-esque guitar riff and a yearning choral hook; “Falling” was a personal and introspective ballad with some twinkling guitar; and “SYA” was my highlight, its’ upbeat and insistent gallop recalling early Editors. Not the most cheerful of sets, then, but a delicious wallow overall. 

A quick turnaround for 3-piece tour support Luna Bay, next up at 7.45; again, from, the off, their two-guitar attack nailed their colours to the mast somewhat with opener “Thinking About You” a big, anthemic blue-collar number with a distinctly Springsteen/ Gaslight vibe. An early broken string issue didn’t deter their enthusiasm, with “Video Star” a similar fist-pumping audience clapalong, the band taking their warm-up task to heart with some rabble rousing from vocalist Connor O’Mara and angular shape-throwing from gangly lead guitarist Rye Milligan. Closer “Call The Night” was however my highlight, a robust indie banger with an undulating guitar pattern, rounding off another fine set from another promising support.

Kept our spots despite a quick loo trip, as a purple backlit stage and techno beat backing track heralded the 5-piece Crystal Tides onstage at 8.40, bounding on in matching “Toothpaste” jackets and bursting into racey, pacey indie banger opener “Better Weather” with unalloyed enthusiasm and boundless energy, particularly livewire vocalist Billy Gregory. “Last Time” was a more anthemic, fist-pumping roof-raiser, Billy already conducting the enthusiastic audience in the infectious hook singalongs, thereafter commenting, a little breathless, “I think we got a little excited… [but] this is fucking mental!” 

Okay, there’s no reinventing the wheel here from this lot, but what Crystal Tides deliver is optimistic, big-hearted breakneck-fast tunes and infectiously hooky repetitive oven-ready stadium anthem-level choruses aplenty. And then there’s the manner of the delivery; full-on from the off, pouring all their energy into the performance, bantering and piss-taking like a gang of old mates, they’re clearly having a ball up onstage, and the crowd can’t help but be swept along in their wake. “Give It All” featured some call-and-response with the knowledgeable crowd; “Down” (preceded by Billy remarking incredulously, “we were scared of [playing] this venue; we thought it was too big for us!” then comparing his guitarist Harry Knowles to Steven from “Traitors”!) was darker and moodier yet still an upbeat gallop with a well-observed mid-song pregnant pause; and “Back To You” was a backbeat glam romper stomper which saw Billy in the mosh. The singer then thanked us for helping “Toothpaste” to No. 37 in the charts but No. 1 in the downloads, brandishing the download trophy with joyous mischief, before delivering a heartfelt and personal rendition of the title track. 

A later “Courtney Love” contrasted a massive chorus with some intricate U2-like guitar notes, before Billy bolted on an acoustic guitar for a heartfelt closer “The Middle”, the band then returning for a 3-song encore to round off a buoyant and exuberant set of singalong indie rock, Billy leaving us with thanks and the comment, “you’ve blown our minds!”. List then signatures from a besieged band before an inky drive home, back for 11. A great fun late shout from a band clearly destined for much bigger venues. Thanks Jeremy!

1,435 ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN, Mutant Vinyl, Bristol Beacon, Friday 13th March 2026

 

Forty-four years, three months and nine days after my first time with my teenage “home team” (gig 2!), I’m still beholden to fabled Scouse post-punk pioneers Echo and the Bunnymen… These days, however, my faith and loyalty are usually shot through with a dose of realism, based on vocalist Ian McCulloch’s unpredictable nature and propensity for, erm, medicinal distractions... Simply put, we know that the Bunnymen themselves, powered by a solid young rhythmic base and overlaid by Mac’s long-time sidekick Will Sergeant’s virtuoso and intricate fretwork, will be ace…  but what about The Voice? What about Mac? Is this going to be another night of justice being done to their legendary sweeping canon of work, or a bit of a dogs’ (bunny’s?) breakfast? Fingers crossed for the former…

Logan joined me tonight; we actually had tix for their Feb 2022 gig across the road at the O2, but a trapped nerve for me on the morning of the gig precluded our attending. So we were owed this one, and set off in hope that the boys would live up to their billing tonight. Parked up about 10 minutes before doors and eventually joined the shortest of the 2 queues for the main auditorium, happily bagging a barrier spot house left. Yay! Chatted with a Welsh gent before support Mutant Vinyl took the state just before 8. Despite a promising name, they were oddly enough, a young 4-piece jazz band, with a sax lead instrument, and played a dull and head-scratchingly inappropriate blend of elevator muzak and 80’s jazz café fodder for yuppies to ignore whilst sipping their daiquiris. Their cover of Ray Stevens “Misty” was even worse then the original, and I amused myself by texting gig mate Jeremy, up in the balcony tonight, slagging them off! To be fair, they were clearly accomplished players (fretless bass player, f’rinstance) but this seemed quite the oddest choice for a support since Kay Hanley was supported in Boston that time )2001, gig 497) by a baton twirler! 

Chatted with Logan and fellow front rower, expat Glaswegian Sarah from Exeter, as the time ticked on past the scheduled 9 p.m. start. Typical Bunnymen! Eventually at 9.15 the choking dry ice kicked in, the lights smashed to black and the usual Gregorian chanting saw the Bunnymen take the stage, immediately kicking into a fulsome sounding “Going Up”, the psych-rock build ceding to Mac’s strident and commanding vocal. Oh yes, the voice… from the off it was cracked, a little gravelly, switching octaves with frequency and impunity, but actually in fine fettle and waaay better than 2024’s “Shiiine On” showing, last time out for me (gig 1,357). With Will his usual virtuoso self, already coaxing textural sounds and thrillingly jagged riffs from his guitar with authoritative ease, things seemed very promising… 

And happily, this was a promise kept tonight, as the Bunnymen were overall excellent, occasionally imperious and majestic, delivering likely one of the best sets I’ve seen from them in years. Despite an early aborted “All That Jazz” (Mac not, “getting into that – we’ll come back to it later…” – they didn’t), the subsequent breathless, crescendo-packed “Crocodiles” and particularly an early “Cutter”, with a thunderous middle 8 riff and outro, were more than adequate substitutes. “Over The Wall” was an astonishing mid-set highlight, the brooding, spine-tingling opening ceding to a dystopian freefall tumble; a ringing “Rescue” featured a lyric snippet from Bunny deep cut “Broke My Neck”; and the tribal drum-powered “Zimbo” and the stately, widescreen “Nothing Lasts Forever” were a delicious wallowing double. And throughout Mac was in good form; the voice sounding perfectly audible despite his propensity for off-mic work, occasionally mumbling incomprehensibly in his thick Scouse but not sounding too, erm, refreshed, and also attempting to coax singalongs from the frankly reluctant Bristol crowd.

 However, the “health reason” that had forced a postponement of the Manchester gig earlier in the week soon became apparent as a roadie brought a chair on for Mac, the singer announcing, “I hate to do this, but me back…”. Apparently (and ironically) a trapped nerve, but Mac tried to make light of it (“Gerry Byrne played the 1965 FC Cup final [for Liverpool] with a broken shoulder… I’ve [just] got a bad back”) and soldiered on, also occasionally passably impersonating the similarly seated comic Dave Allan with a slightly vaudevillian routine involving some offbeat stories involving Gerry Marsden and a dwarf with no legs (!) and a few snipes at The Beatles, observing “Ringo is an anagram of groin”! A majestic if understated “Killing Moon” happily brought us back from the ridiculous to the sublime, however, then a final “Lips Like Sugar”, featuring a vignette of Bowie’s “Sorrow” closed out a short but sweet set. About 1 ¼ hours… but honestly, this one was definitely a case of quality over quantity… 

The touching, plaintive “Ocean Rain” was the sole punctuation point on the performance, Mac, by now clearly struggling, being helped off by a roadie before the end of the song. I hung on afterwards, patience eventually netting me Will’s list, before a blast home and late kebab tea rounded off a splendid boys night out. Justice very much done tonight, despite Mac’s back issues. Thanks folks; faith and loyalty rewarded!

1,434 JODY AND THE JERMS, Swindon The Tuppenny, Thursday 12th March 2026

 

An impromptu short-notice shout, this, and another box ticked in my loose 2026 “live” music resolution to get out more locally. Andy had been recommending veteran Oxford indie-poppers Jody and the Jerms to me after he’d snagged a CD copy of their most recent (4^th!) album, 2025’s “Love Descends” (one of the last of 20, apparently!), his copy arriving with a handwritten letter informing him of their forthcoming Tuppenny gig. So when local music scribe and Tuppenny impresario Dave Franklin also “invited” me to that selfsame gig on Facebook, it suddenly filled a gap between last night’s Vaccines gig and tomorrow’s Bunnymen excursion, giving me an early year 3 in 3! So much for retirement slowing me down on the gig front, then…!

So I popped up the Tupp through a light drizzle, hitting the venue just before 8 and running into the aforementioned Mr. Franklin for a long-overdue catch up and some rock chat while the 6-piece band sound checked. Andy arrived just before the appointed start time, so we wandered around just as the band were kicking off set one at 8.30. “We’ll start with a slow one,” announced guitarist Niall Jeger, his wife and lead vocalist Jody then cutting him of with, “…and then [we’ll] go hard!” That’s what she said…! 

So opener “Forever Running” was, as promised, a quieter opener with a melancholy minor chord chorus, with “Just For Show”, next up, a little more upbeat with a late 70’s strutting New Wave pop vibe and “Sensation” a backbeat-driven collision between DIY C86 jangle pop and more robust Darling Buds-esque summery late 80’s indie, accentuated by Jody’s breathy, lilting vocal style. The set material followed in a similar vein, all delivered with careful understatement (it’s a small pub venue after all, you don’t want to blow the doors off) and casual charm, Jody commenting after the slinky, keyboard driven “Started Something”, “I asked my daughter to get me a Bacardi, and she got me my cardigan!”

The Jerms continued in a similar breezy, toe-tapping vein, with a groovier, rockier “Divine” my favourite of this first set, before a slightly incongruous, ska inflected “A Different Place”, apparently the only one in this opening salvo drawn from the new album! Closer “I Don’t Wanna” then saw a brief pause to proceedings, with Dave, Andy and myself enjoying a brief conversation with Jody during the break, the singer promising a few more newer selections for set 2.

True to her word as well: after opening with “Never Coming Home”, apparently their first ever song but a number featuring some melancholy yet uplifting guitars and a nice descending bassline, newies such as the bouncier “Hooch and Happiness” and the Phil Spector-esque 60’s girl group vibe of “Some Day” featured in a much better second set. However the earlier “Harder I Try” (which Jody announced as her favourite) stood out for me with some resonant Bunnymen-like textural guitar riffery from the returning Pete Millson, and a later “Counting Dreams” was as Smiths-esque as Jody had warned in her intro, with some undulating Marr-like fretwork. A herky jerky closer in “Not In This World” rounded out an overall understated yet beguilingly melodic performance, an encore cover of an old 80’s folky/ cowpunk number by The Boothill Foot Tappers bringing proceedings to an overall close.

A chat with the band and a lengthier discussion on the idiosyncrasies of musical tastes with Andy, Dave and Richard, an affable Canadian gent who’d commented on my Parachute Men t-shirt (“haven’t seen one of those in 30 years!”), before I headed off down the hill to bring night 2 of 3 to a close. A good late shout then, this; ultimately, no trees were being pulled up here, this was just good old fashioned catchy and melodic indie pop from Jody and the Jerms, delivered with charm and Summery smiles aplenty. And there’s nowt wrong with that!

1,433 THE VACCINES, Brigitte Calls Me Baby, Bristol Prospect Building, Wednesday 11th March 2026

 

What do I expect from The Vaccines? Well, I usually expect some bouncy and singalong if a little derivative stadium indie-pop from this lot of Sarf London pop magpies, and I also usually expect my missus (who was on board with them from the off, mainly due to their occasional 50’s Buddy Holly inflections) to want to see them whenever they tour. Personally, I like them fine, but they’re definitely a “Rachel” band for us, so sometimes I go with her (my most recent time being Ally Pally in 2018, gig 1,081), and sometimes I don’t (pretty sure she’s seen them at least twice without me since then). However two things swayed me to join Rach this time around; firstly, the premise of this Spring 2026 tour being a 15^th Anniversary run-through of their spunky debut album, “What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?”, still my favourite of their releases; and secondly, the inclusion of a very promising young American band on their undercard… 

So we set off for Bristol after sorting the kids out with a takeaway, hitting the venue about 7.15 after parking up in a shonky-looking nearby industrial estate. A new venue for me, this recently opened Prospect Building, just around the corner from the now-closed and frankly unmourned Marble Factory, and like said dump is a repurposed large warehouse, with a forecourt featuring eateries and tented benches next to an outdoor bar, attempting to give it a Festy vibe. Cold inside too, although not as Arctic as the MF! We bumped into Andy and Jas by the merch stand and were joined by Matt, chatting before heading into the cavernous hall, grabbing a spot halfway back (the Vaccines massive already sardine-packed down the front) and trying to avoid the pillars! Support, Chicagoans Brigitte Calls Me Baby, joined us at 8; I’d enjoyed their 2024 debut album, “The Future Is Our Way Out” whilst acknowledging an obvious debt to The Smiths in their 80’s jangle pop sound and vocalist Wes Leavin’s yearning, crooner style vocals. Tonight however they focussed on material from their sophomore (yes Wes, I know what it means!) release “Irreversible”, due out this Friday, with newies “I Can Take The Sun Out Of The Sky”, “The Pit” and “Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction” all impressing with pacey, upbeat and undulating guitar-driven verses and big roof-raising choral hooks, despite a distinct and oft-annoying echo on the vocals and drums. A couple of more melancholy numbers highlighted the sharp-suited and razor-shouldered Leavin’s impressive vocal range (coming across all Elvis-like in oldie “I Wanna Die In The Suburbs”) before set highlight, the tremendous “Slumber Party” which opened all Interpol-esque with a doomy one-note opening, before ceding to a thrilling indie gallop. Their debt to Mozzer and Marr’s lot looms large, yes, but there were inflections of other intelligent 80’s songsmiths such as Prefab Sprout (a point acknowledged and appreciated by Leavins during our post-gig chat) and The Big Dish in their big chorused oeuvre. Overall, impressive stuff from a band on the way up – and quickly! 

We squeezed a little further forward before The Vaccines joined us dead on 9 to the strains of The Ramones “Do You Remember Rock’n’Roll Radio” (a bold choice, Matt and I both thought…), taking to a stage which was set up like a 50’s high school dancehall, with red velvet curtain backdrop, drum and keyboard riser and a big “Vaccines” lightbulb sign. Into openers “Blow Up” and the breathless, punkish “Wrecking Ball” to a rapturous reception, vocalist Justin Young already prowling the stage authoritatively, all sunglasses and expansive gestures. “We’re The Vaccines; this is an “F” chord, and this is “Post Break Up Sex”,” introduced the man for an early knockabout singalong highlight, and a rollicking “Norgaard” was also an early highlight for me, although it was later topped by the predictable “If You Wanna”, a certified rambunctious indie dancefloor-packing banger, and more surprisingly “Family Friend”, a Velvet Underground-like slow build accentuated by Young’s passable Lou Reed drawl, culminating in a speeded-up outro gallop.

That pretty much concluded the “What Do You Expect?” run-through, the band dispensing with all 12 numbers in barely half an hour with a comment of, “that album changed our lives and hopefully soundtracked some of yours”; however the concrete flooring was taking its’ toll on my knees, so I repaired to the large merch/bar back room, grabbing a seat but still hearing the likes of the chugalong “Heartbreak Kid” and impressive late double of the soaring “I Can’t Quit” and the pounding drumbeat of “Teenage Icon” perfectly well. The BCMB boys set up a table next to the merch, so I grabbed a quick chat and pic before the Vaccines set ended, meeting a buoyant Rach (who loved it and invested heavily in a Vaccines hoody to underline it!) before a short-cut out and swift drive home. So, what did I expect? What I got really; some fun knockabout indie pop energetically delivered by The Vaccines in a somewhat unimpressive venue, a promising support already fulfilling considerable potential, but most importantly a happy wife. And that’ll do nicely!