1,442 THOMAS DOLBY “Iconic 80’s”, Martin McAloon, Bristol O2 Academy, Sunday 17th May 2026

 

A surprisingly quick return to “live” UK work for US based quirky 80’s synth-pop boffin, technological entrepreneur and Renaissance Man, and world’s finest wig wearer, Mr. Thomas Dolby! Having admired him since the 80’s, I finally broke my “live” Dolby duck in August 2024 (gig 1,342), being mainly attracted by the chance to see one of my favourite synthpop tracks, the mighty “Europa And The Pirate Twins”, delivered “live”. Brilliant though it was, it was but one of several highlights from that evening, so I was up for more Dolby “live” shenanigans. This, however, promised something completely different; a smattering of his 80’s works, sure, but interspersed with what appeared to be (on “setlist.fm”, at least), 3 “Symphony” medley pieces featuring random selections of various non-Dolby 80’s hits, under the strapline of “Iconic 80’s – My Personal Recollections”. So what awaits tonight; a warped genius move, or a Jive Bunny medley car crash? Mr. Dolby, I’m trusting in you tonight… 

A relaxing day after a late one last night, seeing punk author and similar cultural Renaissance man John Robb deliver an entertaining book talk in Corsham with Logan, saw me setting off solo down the M4, getting to the Academy 15 minutes after doors and settling a row back, slightly house left, next to Keith, a veteran Dolby fan from Hereford. Some entertaining music chat saw us up to support Martin McAloon at 10 to 8; to say I wasn’t looking forward to McAloon, erstwhile 80’s cerebral pop auteurs Prefab Sprout’s bassist, was quite the understatement, as he was utterly terrible as Dolby’s wingman last time out. However from the off there was a considerable improvement; introducing himself with the wry, laconic quip of, “40 years ago I used to be in a band called Deacon  Blue…” he then kicked into the acoustic gallop of purposeful opener “Faron Young” which was a million times better than before. “Looking For Atlantis” (“in the style of Elvis in a swamp” according to the man) was equally groovy, and the later “Appetite” and “Cars And Girls” were really good actually, showcasing da Sprout’s soulful ear for a hooky tune. OK, there were still a few bum notes, both guitar and vocal, and the rambling McAloon still came across somewhere between Catweazle and the “vow of silence” guy in the pit in Monty Python’s “Life Of Brian”, but overall this was an entertaining acoustic interlude, only slightly spoiled by a messy closing run-through of “King Of Rock’n’Roll”, with McAloon trying to sing 3 different songs in the chorus!

 More chat with Keith, and a brief greeting with old friend Martin, on duty in the photo pit tonight, saw us up to 9.10, the single synth note intro greeting Dolby onstage in front of a sadly half full Academy (balcony closed tonight too), then morphing into an initially stripped back “Blue Monday”, the song bursting into life at its denouement. The synth pitter patter of a dramatic “One Of Our Submarines” followed a lengthy preamble about Thomas being contacted by the Navy to correct the premise of the song, then by a salvage team looking to recover his uncle’s sub (the subject of the song)! Then it was “Symphony” time… 

Dolby gave a lengthier exposition as to the premise of this idea; currently teaching film music in a Baltimore University, he’d been prompted by his students questioning about the 80’s to write a symphony reflecting his personal journey through that era (“[turns out] I was always a frustrated symphonic composer”), weaving together personally meaningful songs by other artists with visual interpretations of key events. Introducing a 3-piece band “onstage” (including Ana Pshokina, a Ukranian bassist projected onto the screen via TikTok, as she’s been denied a UK visa), he then asked for social media discretion on the set-list and no filming for this still work-in-progress project (which I observed at the time and like to think I'm still observing now, as any particular songs I mention below from these pieces have already been mentioned online, on setlist.fm at least...) then we were off…

So, genius or car crash? Well, the truth is usually somewhere in between, but I have to say I enjoyed the “Symphony” pieces more often than not; at best they were seamless multimedia “experiences”, with the musical accompaniment (certain songs only briefly “referenced” with a couplet or riff rather than actually played, recalling old 80’s Level 3 DJ Dave Bumford’s “mix-in, mix-out” antics!), and projected films augmenting each other well. The segue between “White Wedding” and “Love Will Tear Us Apart” was particularly notable, with Princess Diana’s Wedding then older, more haunted face projected on screen, as was the “Billie Jean” rhythm underpinning a monologue from Dolby about a visit he made to Michael Jackson’s LA Mansion. I also enjoyed the “New Year’s Day”/ “Killing Moon” segues and the move from an eerie electronic “How Soon Is Now”, through “Shout” to Peter Gabriel’s “Don’t Give Up”, this section sung beautifully by Pshokina and dedicated, poignantly, to her home country, with haunting war images as accompaniment. 

“Don’t Dream It’s Over” rounded off what, for me, was an uneven but brave and unusual attempt at an 80’s musical and visual personal retrospective, which never felt like a gratuitous “cover medley” popularity grab, and seemed well received overall by tonight’s audience. But then we were back to Dolby’s own material; a reggae-tinged “My Brain Is Like A Sieve”, featuring “virtual” guest vocalist Jason Mraz, preceded my highlight, a brilliant, undulating if slightly understated “Europa And The Pirate Twins”, then the quirky funk of set closer “She Blinded Me With Science”, Dolby taking a lengthy bow at its conclusion.

Encores of an acerbic and yelping sonic melting pot of “Hyperactive” and a smoother, eerie and almost elegiac “Airwaves” closed a 1 hour 50 performance, by which time I’d bade farewell to Keith and was at the back for a quick getaway (no set-lists, no point hanging at the front!). An amazing all-green light run out of Bristol (for once!) got me home for 11.45, listening to Aaron Rai’s USPGA win on the radio and reflecting on the night. “Europa” and the subsequent numbers were great as ever, and the “Symphonies” were much better than feared. Would I have preferred a full Dolby set? Probably… Was I glad that I wasn’t put off going altogether? Definitely! Trust the boffin; the mad musical synthpop scientist Mr. Thomas Dolby!

1,441 MAISIE PETERS, Bristol The Trinity, Thursday 14th May 2026

 

Another of my slightly rarer forays into “live” music with the daughter of the house, this; having seen “pop” ingenue and Swiftie understudy Maisie Peters in a small (for her, anyway) venue in October last year (gig 1,409), Jami and I figured that the next time we’d be off for some more “live” May-May would be on her (presumably arena-level) tour following the impending release of her 3^rd studio album “Florescence”. However, Jami picked up news on the Maisie group chat of some more “intimate” low-key acoustic flavoured shows in advance of said release, with one being scheduled for Bristol’s well-appointed and entirely suitable Trinity venue, so we jumped on and got tix before they sold out in predictably short order – so quickly in fact, that they added a matinee and tix for that flew out too!

This was a Rough Trade event as well, with CD copies of the new album included in the price, so fine with that! Jami had a singing lesson in the afternoon, so we set off in short order thereafter, stopping at Leigh Delamere for food so we could park up for free after 6.30 on Market Street near the Exchange, then wandering over to this old church venue, joining a 30-or so deep queue 1½ hours before scheduled doors. Let it not be said that the Maisie massive are not loyal… Chatted with some queuing fans (including a fellow actor for J to compare notes with) as the matinee performance chucked out at 7, then huddled under a big tree as some light drizzle dampened bodies but not spirits; good thing we brought raincoats! Happily the stewards threw us soggy lot a bone, opening back up at 7.30, so we got a spot a few rows back, house right and near the barrier-ed off disabled area, chucking our coats over said barriers next to Evie, a girl who was flying solo and probably only a couple of years older than Jami. As the front got more crowded, however, she started showing signs of agitation, so I asked if she was ok; a firm “no” was the answer, as she was seemingly descending into a full-on panic attack, so (at her request), I got her out to the back of the venue, where she showed me a phone message that was prepared for such eventualities. So I grabbed her some water (one of the solution hints) then got the venue manager, who was trained to deal with this situation, then after a short pause left her in his capable hands. Happily she regained her composure, as just before showtime a steward brought her round into the disabled area and sorted her a seat near the side door. 

So after this, I got my spot back with Jami, and chatted and took pics to while away the time. With little fanfare, the tiny Maisie and her 4-piece band then took the stage at 8.30 to rapturous acclaim. “You guys seem pretty loose!” observed the ebullient Maisie, “are you excited for the show?” “You You You” (“a serious song – so no laughing!” scolded the singer, tongue in cheek) eased in with a melancholy vibe; the folksy ballad of “Say My Name” followed with a preamble from Maisie about her co-writer Marcus Mumford, building to a typical hooky and singalong chorus, and after the countrified pedal steel-embellished “Audrey Hepburn” (“a love song to my boyfriend, rather than a mean song about 3 men in rotation!”), the low-key acoustic oldie “Body Better” still got the loudest singalong of the night.

 As I mentioned last May-May time out (last October, gig 1,409), this isn’t usually my thing, but I’m warming to Peters’ pleasant and listenable Swiftie-esque countrified material, and of course have to give her props for her often-lengthy between-song banter and upbeat bonhomie, reinforcing the sense of inclusiveness and strong connection with her young, overwhelmingly female (or at least AFAB) audience. A Q&A session mid-set, conducted by her keyboardist, underlined this, before her “surprise” song (a clear reference to Tay-Tay’s similar Eras tour segment), the mellow, moody and rather splendid actually oldie “Hollow”. Oldie “History Of Man” (announced with, “[I’m] so happy that I feel that the song that defines [me] is also some of [my] best work!”) ran it close for set highlight for me, a brooding acoustic build that recalled some of Taylor’s work with The National’s Aaron Dessner. 

The hushed, spooky “My Regards” brought the 50 minutes performance to a close; I’d moved to the back of the packed venue at Jami’s request to try for the mixing desk list but they weren’t handing it out, but luckily I squeezed back to the front post-set, a short wait being rewarded with a stage list for my overjoyed daughter. A much easier than last time drive home got us back around 10.30, both pleased after another successful daddy-daughter Maisie experience. And yes, I now fully expect that the next time our paths cross with this talented young pop artist will be the main “Florescence” tour!

1,440 THE WONDER STUFF, Ian Prowse, Stroud The Sub Rooms, Friday 8th May 2026

 

The Stuffies again? Well, as it’s local, why the hell not? Ebullient 80’s/90’s indie rock long-stayers and recent “live” favourites The Wonder Stuff were announced as co-headliners for this year’s “Gigantic”, Bristol’s one dayer indie Festival, an event my missus traditionally goes to but I normally give a miss due to both Saturday daughter taxi duty and the usual proliferation of duller Britpop indie landfill on the card. With The Stuffies and Peter Hook headlining this year, however, I was sorely tempted, but graciously stepped aside (ha!) so Rach could go; my magnanimous gesture was then rewarded in part by Milo’s lot announcing a warm-up date (the second of two) just up the road in Stroud the night before. I’ll do that one then! 

This sold out quickly, so I anticipated this one being busy early doors and set off in unexpected drizzle just  before 6, parking in the free Parliament Street car park and wandering down 15 minutes before doors to find only half a dozen or so hardy early comers milling around. More by (the 10 minutes late!) doors, but I still secured an easy front row spot, house right, in this well-appointed upstairs room, leaning on the stage itself (no barriers) and chatting with Steve, a local who was psyched that 2 of his faves were playing 5 minutes’ walk from his house! So the first was on just before 8, announced as ever by faithful roadie Morgo (he of the “I’ve fallen” antics at “Shiiine On” last year!); Scouse socialist street poet Ian Prowse, accompanied by Nico (apparently the original “Fiddle of Fire”), and kicking off with an acapella and impassioned anti-war paean, then lightening the mood with a couple of jolly fiddle-powered Pele numbers in “Taking On The World” and “Fair Blows The Wind For France” – “songs from the 90’s, when I was 4!” according to the man himself! In fine fooling as ever, Prowsey challenged us to be his “Stroud horn section” for the off-kilter “I Did It For Love”, and shared a weird dream involving Eddie “The Eagle” Edwards during “Name And Number”. The usual closer, “Does This Train Stop On Merseyside”, was my poignant set highlight, Prowsey then departing for, “a flight to the Isle Of Man at 10 a.m. [tomorrow] – oh, the glamour!”

Kept my spot, chatting with Steve plus a father/ son duo behind me, and also briefly greeted Russ, back in his old role as Stuffies tech! in seemingly short order, the lights dimmed for 9 and cartoon soundbites heralded The Wonder Stuff onstage, powering into the usual blistering opening double of a tense yet singalong “Red Berry Joy Town” and the huge choral burst of “On The Ropes”. Time for a brief, “how the fuck are ya!” from Miles, before the huge circular fiddle build of “Here Comes Everyone”, thanks to the scarlet-clad Erica Nockalls, led to its’ roof-raising hook. Tremendous; too early for Song Of The Night, surely? Or maybe not! 

“We’ve been going for 40 years and this is our first time in Stroud; so maybe the whole thing has been leading up to this!” announced Miles, tongue firmly in cheek; well, this might be the opening salvo of a 40 year anniversary run, but tonight the Wonder Stuff played with a vim and vigour of a band considerably younger. “Cartoon Boyfriend” again showcased Erica’s virtuoso fiddle work, dovetailing in well with some equally dextrous fretwork from veteran guitarist Malc Treece; the swirling “A Wish Away” was preceded by a Stuffies songwriting history lesson from Miles, involving the late “Bass Thing” and a hamster (!); and “Caught In My Shadow” was a heartfelt mid-set highlight dedicated to any expat Brummies in the crowd. Thereafter the mid-set lulled a little for me, perhaps necessarily so with Miles commenting, “there’s not enough defibrillators in Stroud so we’ve built in some quiet moments; I’m talking about [for] me…” Nonetheless, a rare outing for the touching, slow-burn “Sing The Absurd” was welcome, and “Don’t Anyone Dare Give A Damn” was brooding and yearning in equal measure, before the usual “to Cow or not to Cow” debate led to a rather excellent, inclusive singalong of the Stuffies’ “millstone” number.

 “We’re on the home run now!” declared Miles before an electrifying double of “Unbearable” and “Give Give Give Me More More More” closed the set, Miles conducting the latter’s hook singalong, then admitting when they returned for the encore, “it took me until 2 years ago to realise we could do that with [that song]! Always on the ball, the Wonder Stuff…” Encores were totally on the ball, though, with a brilliant trio of a cascading “Can’t Shape Up”, the enormously enjoyable “Radio Ass Kiss” and a thunderous “Ten Trenches Deep” rounding out proceedings. Russ kindly sorted me a list, and I grabbed a signature and 2 quick chats with guitarist Malc before sweatily hitting the road, home for 11.30. Rach (who I phoned before setting off for home) has a treat awaiting her tomorrow at “Gigantic”… as for me, The Stuffies on this form are sure to be in the conversation for another “Shiiine On” Best Band award this November. And I for one can’t wait!

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!