1,431 KEELEY, Shoun Shoun, Bristol Exchange (Basement), Friday 20th February 2026

 

I’m starting a bit slower with Keeley this year; by this time last year I’d seen them 3 times already! However, my hectic half term week concludes today with a first – the first time I’ve actually seen indie rock scholar Keeley Moss’ eponymous trio of shoegaze-adjacent pop dreamers headline a gig in their own right! Said gig is part of a short headlining tour promoting new, 3^rd album “Girl On The Edge Of The World”, actually being released today and seeing the band continue their lyrical exploration of the life and untimely demise of German backpacker Inga Hauser. Not having heard this album yet, I’m going a little cold into this gig, but Keeley herself has called this their best work yet, and told me directly when we met up at that ill-fated MBV gig last year (gig 1,417) that the band are currently “on fire” “live”. OK girl, big talk… let’s see!

Feeling a bit tired, both physically and mentally after this week’s shenanigans, so I made a late departure down the M4, parking in a part-time loading spot opposite the venue just after 8. Made my way downstairs into the smaller but similarly shaped Exchange basement room, the only difference being the stage was in the corner, around the corner! Keeley and bassist Lukey were in earnest conversation at the merch stand so I didn’t disturb, but took a viewing spot for openers Shoun Shoun at 8.15. I remembered liking them when I first saw them a few years back (gig 1,205) and even buying their CD (which needless to say didn’t escape my recent purge). I must have been in a completely different headspace then, as since then, they’ve made less sense to me each time, I’m afraid. Their opener answered the question as to what a reggae/ grunge fusion band from Morocco and fronted by Grace Jones would sound like (!), and the next number was an odd melange of Stereolab monotone rhythm and Rah Band glam stomp. A couple of goth racket numbers later, I was too tired to take any more of this baffling eclecticism, so headed back to the car for a sit down! Back in for their last knockings, which convinced me I’d made the right choice. Sorry folks, not for me.

I took a spot against the wall, house right, as the band set up, Lukey spotting me for a quick greeting. A slightly later than scheduled 9.20 saw Lukey lead the trio on to a suitably ephemeral synth backing track, opener “Hungry For The Prize”’s staccato one note opening leading into this robustly despatched groovy CBGB’s bluesy punk newie, powered as ever by Keeley’s deep, rich vocal tones. “We’re honoured to spend our new album release day with you!” Lukey announced before the taut, fast-paced and aggressive newie “Crossing Lands” impressed with some punchy, Gang of Four-like (Lukey and I both agreed afterwards!) rhythm and choppy guitar. Two down, both new numbers, both very different, both very impressive! 

This tone continued throughout the set, the first half-dozen being new album choices, and the subsequent 2 being offcuts from the new material, varying stylistically from that punchier opening double, through shimmering and resonant mid-paced bliss-out strumalongs (viz. “Who Wants To See The World”), to stately and pastoral shoegaze (the excellent “Big Brown Eyes”, the “emotional centrepiece” of the new album, according to Lukey), delivered with conviction by a rapidly improving band and as ever shot through with a heavy dose of melancholy, given the subject matter. And, throughout, both Keeley and Lukey were in expansive, gregarious mood, bigging up the new album and guest vocalists Miki Berenyi (our shoegaze queen) and Sice of the Boo Radleys, blasting the disgusting likes of Farage and the political right, and emphasising the redemptive power of music, particularly shared “live” experiences in small venues, with Keeley correctly pointing out, “small venues are where the life changing moments happen”. Damn right!

A tongue in cheek call to “play the hits!” led to a powerful and strident final 3; “the punchy “Inga Hauser” giving Lukey a proper workout; the baggy, Stone Roses-esque beat and thrashier chorus of “Forever Froze”; and finally an absorbing and meandering “Trans Europe 18”, rounding off likely the best set I’ve seen from Keeley and her boys. A quick merch stand chat with the band afterwards saw me eventually head off, signed setlist and new CD in tow, for a ¼ to midnight arrival home. A slow start this year with Keeley for me then, but on this current form I’d be happy to see them again and again. Big talk, maybe, but right now Keeley are also walking the walk!

1,430 COACH PARTY, Lizzie Esau, Hunny Buzz, Bristol Thekla, Thursday 19th February 2026

 

A hectic half-term gigging week (3 in 4 nights!) continues with this one, bringing up double figures for the Isle of Wight’s finest, bratty indie and increasingly punkish combo Coach Party, and a welcome return to the Thekla for them, for the first time since a superb October 2023 set (gig 1,296). We’d booked this one back in June last year (!), but since squeezed in an “outstore” show at the Oxford Jericho last Autumn (gig 1,407) to celebrate the release of sophomore album “Caramel”, the band taking that opportunity to play said new album in its’ entirety. Cranking up the volume, speed and attitude a few notches, “Caramel” sees the band in punkish, confrontational and almost riot-grrrl mood, delivering a set of proper filling-rattling choons with a serious potential to punch a hole in the “Dirty Boat” and sink the motherfucker! 

Peej and I set off early for this 6.30 doors gig, parking up shortly after doors after a happily incident-free run down, grabbing a spot near the front, house left and next to old gig buddy Alfie! Not long to wait for the openers at 7; a major reason for our early arrival was Coach Party’s decision to add a local band to open each date on this tour, happily selecting kindred spirits for this gig in Bristol’s own Hunny Buzz. I’d spoken about Coach Party with da Buzz after their splendid Deep Sea Diver support slot last November (gig 1,414), their verdict being they’d love to play with them. OK, you got your wish folks, now deliver… buoyant indie pop opener “Mine” was followed by “Car Collision”, a tremendous breathless and hooky slice of punkish effervescence, and the slow-fast momentum-building “Joyride” (preceded by an emotional tribute from vocalist Lydia Read to a recently-passed friend), showing a number of strings to their 90’s-influenced indie bow. The stomping grunge of “Sweet Perfume” saw a cameo from Coach Party drummer Guy on guitar (!), “Love Her” had a very 90’s slacker vibe, and a rapid opening set was capped with an excellent “Hey Mary”, a subtle and classy build to an infectious choral hook. Excellent set from a band rapidly fulfilling potential… 

Main support Lizzie Esau and her band were up next; I’d not checked them out beforehand so was coming in cold, and they impressed from the outset. Another female-fronted 90’s referencing grungy indie lot, maybe, but, different to the openers, their general vibe was moodier, with more understated mid-paced material delivering a beguiling mix of melody and malevolence, accentuated by the tiny and striking Lizzie’s yearning and occasionally higher octave and almost operatic tones (esp. during the slo-grunge mid set “Lazy Brain”). Brooding opener “Wait Too Late” was a brooding beast with an environmental message, “Day In The Life” (introduced with, “this is about shit jobs – anyone got one?” – not me, I’m retired from mine!) was a more upbeat clapalong outlier, and closer “Bleak Sublime” was again a slo-burn opening building to a moody, Garbage-esque choral hook, Lizzie admonishing the crowd to sing along. Impressive stuff overall! 

A chat with Peej and Alfie down the rapidly-filling front bumped us up to 8.45, Coach Party taking the stage to an “Eve Of Destruction” (no, not that one…) synth track intro, and straight into the harsh, heavy opener “Do It For Love”, vocalist Jess Eastwood’s off-kilter, discordant and dismissive choral vocals already a feature. Oldie “Can’t Talk, Won’t”, next up, was brilliant, this Sleeper-esque oldie given more oomph and bite tonight with heavier guitars (courtesy of a mysterious 5^th member!) and a thrashy extended outro, before an early outlier of the twinklingly dreamy “Be That Girl” was preceded by Jess welcoming the audience before deadpanning, “there’s always a bigger crowd [here] for the disco afterwards!” 

“BTG” proved a proper outlier for the set, as tonight Coach Party brought the noise, cranking up volume, pace and scarily wide-eyed conviction with the likes of a rampaging, aggressive “Nurse Depression”, the acerbic diss track “All I Wanna Do Is Hate” and a frankly awesome squalling double noise-fest of “Parasite” and “Disco Dream”, Jess often bending double on the floor to deliver her screamed vocals in the manner of Seafood’s David Line. In fact, much of tonight’s performance recalled our millennial “live” faves da’ food; the savage punk rock electric guitars, the kinetic dynamism, that thrilling sense of tumbling chaos and catharsis… “What’s the Point In Life” was comparatively sedate and subdued, before the ante was upped again with “FLAG” and finally “Girls”, Jess inviting the girls from the crowd to join the band onstage before abandoning it herself to deliver her primal scream vocals from the pit, before joining band, girls and the “Caramel” front cover chap onstage for the finale of this full-on punk rock set. Quick chats with the besieged bands at the merch before an easy drive home, back for 11 after a redemptive experience. After a splendid but problematic night out last time, I was looking for an easier gig tonight, and this one delivered threefold!

1,429 SUEDE, Bath The Forum, Tuesday 17th February 2026

 

Well, that didn’t go as I’d planned… but, as ever, let’s begin at the beginning…

Either eager to show that it wasn’t a one-off last hurrah, or, as I suspect, more like not giving a crap what anyone thinks of them right now and just writing and releasing what the hell they feel like, 90’s glam sleaze auteurs and Bowie disciples Suede managed to top their stunning return-to-form 2022 album “Autofiction” with last year’s brilliant “Antidepressants”. Unlike its unlucky predecessor (which lost out by a hair to Editors’ similarly redemptive “EDB”), “Antidepressants” topped my 2025 Album of the Year ballot by some considerable distance, continuing the powerful and strident dynamics of “Autofiction” but merging them with a more brittle, claustrophobic cold war feel, inviting for me comparisons with 70’s post punk greats such as Magazine, Comsat Angels and even Joy Division in the process. A trip to see this material in full force and effect was pretty darn essential, then, so we booked for the Bath date, midway through the early 2026 tour.

Rachel was able to join us this time (having had to give up her ticket last time, gig 1,271), as was old buddy Beef, so we set off in good time to arrive just after 7 p.m. doors and catch a highly promising support in goth-tinged post-punkers Bloodworm. All going well, until we hit a massive pothole 3 miles North of Bath; I initially continued driving, but it quickly felt like I was driving on gravel, so pulled over into the Walcot RFC club entrance off the road, to discover a blown-out front tyre. Bollocks! A 10 minute wait to get connected to Green Flag then turned into a 1½ hour wait for the technician to arrive; to be fair, he was excellent and got us turned around quickly, but it meant we actually got going again at 8.45, exactly the time Suede were due onstage. Bugger! To pour salt onto the wound, I then fucked up our directions, pulling into the side road next to the Forum in the belief that it led to the big open-air car park, only to find it was a cul de sac full of the band’s coach convoy! Wasted a good 5 extra minutes extricating the car from this bollard-lined side road before detouring around the ring road to eventually park up. Double Bugger! 

Thus we made a frantic entry to the gig at 10 past 9, just as Suede were kicking into the 6^th number on the set (our arrival ensuring we’d missed a couple of potential highlights in newie “Dancing With The Europeans” and the evergreen anthem “Trash”). Rach hit the loo and I squirmed my way down the front, pitching up 3 or 4 rows back, house right before the sardine-tight crowd prevented further forward progress. So our first number, the jagged off-kilter hobnail boot-stomper “Personality Disorder” was followed by the stark ballad “Pale Snow”, the band already changing up the mood and tempo of the set between fast and slow, anthemic and introspective, light and shade. And singer and mainman Brett Anderson, as ever, was everywhere; already Sweaty Bretty after barely half an hour, he was running across the stage like a demented puppy, on and off monitors, in and out of the photo pit, in everyone’s faces (literally, for the barrier folks!), constantly demanding more from himself, the audience, and his splendidly proficient if slightly anonymous bandmates. No, Brett was leading the charge, his performance so good I was actually livid that I’d missed so much of the set, conversely being unable to settle into the gig and really enjoy myself. Damn that fucking pothole!

Thankfully, a brilliant, sweeping “It Starts And Ends With You”, the actual mid-point of the set, snapped me back into the room. Brett’s vocals, a little ragged and off-key during an earlier “Outsiders” (legacy of all the physical effort, I guess), were better, powering a roof-raising audience singalong. This heralded an absolutely tremendous set section; a soaring “New Generation”, the hushed build of “June Rain” leading to a bleeding-raw choral crescendo, the careering punk rock double of “She Still Leads Me On” (my overall highlight of the set) and a moodier, pseudo-Goth “Shadow Self”, then a quite beautiful “High Rising”, delivered voice and piano only, Brett’s deep sonorous vocals partly delivered off-mic to a pindrop-hushed audience.

The slashing glam riffery of oldie “Metal Mickey” and another soaring singalong in “Beautiful Ones”, Brett going crowd walkabouts in my corner to kick this one off, rounded off the set, Brett praising the Suedeworld crowd with the comment, “Bath, you have been beautiful!” One encore only in “The Only Way I Can Love You” ended a 1½ hour performance, of which we missed 5 songs and 25 minutes. A quick squirm to the front and a polite shout got me a list, then I ran into friends Jo and Andy Ashley separately for quick chats before meeting Rach and Beef at the merch, briefly apologising to the Bloodworm boys for missing them, before a happily quieter journey home. Suede on great form then, so on reflection I’m glad I got to see what I did!

1,428 SUDS, Soot Sprite, Hamburger, Bristol Louisiana, Friday 6th February 2026

 

Back on it the night after saying farewell to a beloved shoegaze/ dreampop combo in Mew, but this time out to see a band with a broadly similar sonic template, who might just be around on my “Dance Card” for a few years yet…! Logan and I had crossed swords with Norfolk’s Suds just the once before, their impressive set supporting Spanish Love Songs in Southampton in 2024 (gig 1,312) prompting comparisons with early 90’s faves Madder Rose with their blend of pastoral slow-burn ethereal stuff and more frantic, harder-edged pacey numbers, underlined on debut album “The Great Undergrowth”. Last years’ sophomore effort “Tell Me About Your Day Again” was however a more cohesive effort, a more defined shimmery dreampop sound overlaid with some well-constructed and brain-hugging tuneage, thrusting it comfortably into my Top Ten albums of 2025, and prompting me to book for the Bristol stop on their headlining tour.

I couldn’t persuade Logan to join me, however, so it was a solo trip down the M4, parking up opposite and heading in just as openers Hamburger were taking to the tiny upstairs room stage. Their set veered between quiet, slow burn introspection and more upbeat, C86 influenced jangle pop, the band’s set neatly alternating between these 2 styles! I particularly liked “Punk Rock Star”, an early faster number, and their final number, a breezy Razorcuts-esque indie gallop with ringing choral guitar licks and a “woah-oh” hook delivered in the vocalist’s distinctive falsetto. A work in progress, sure, but a pleasantly promising start. 

Took a break outside and had a chat with Suds’ imposing but friendly bass man Harry Mitchell, prompted by my overhearing that the band were staying in Swindon tonight! Back upstairs for 8.30, as main support Soot Sprite were kicking into their driving, upbeat 90’s post-grunge-tinged opener “Surprise Guilty Party”, vocalist Elise Cook already giving it full beans with a strident and powerful vocal. “All My Friends”, next up, ploughed a similar furrow, albeit in a more morose, brooding manner, and so far the set was developing nicely into a power-chord driven 90’s homage. However, “Doomed” stripped back the noise, revealing a splendid yearning and melancholy choon with a soaring chorus, the subsequent “Wield Your Hope Like A Weapon” continuing this mood, again powered  by a slightly atonal yet punchy vocal from Elise. A new guitar band with more than one string to their bow, then, Soot Sprite impressed with both their varied sonic template but also, and more importantly, with some hooky choral tuneage. I’m all about the tunes, me…

Took a step forward from my house right spot, pitching up front and centre (and prompting Soot Sprite bassist Sean Mariner to comment during our later conversation, “I saw you [do that] and thought, this guy’s going to have a good time tonight…!”) for Suds’ arrival at 9.20 in front of a full room. “We’re Suds,” announced diminutive vocalist Mae Carter, “this is our favourite city to play in!”, powering into breathless, driving opener “Paint My Body”. “Until I’m Fine”, a more angular, hazy and pastoral number touching on dreampop, followed, with bassist Harry, already working up a sweat for his art (good man!) subsequently admitting he’d nicked his stage towel from his house, so was glad his mum wasn’t here tonight! 

Veering between their various styles with effortless ease, Suds tonight delivered a splendid and captivating set where you didn’t really know what to expect next, a neat trick for a young band only on their 2nd album. “Made You Grow”’s undulating riff underpinned a dual harmony-powered pacey blast; drummer Jack Ames stepped forward for a lovely hushed duet with Mae for “Holding On”; “Heavy In The Air” was a breathless blast recalling Madder Rose’s “Live Forever”; and after 5^th member Pedro was introduced later in the set, “The Great Undergrowth” was a melodic strumalong rocker.

However, closer “Terrible Thing” was the highlight of the set for me; their “Killing Moon” or “Car Song”, its’ stately and relentless march built to a widescreen octave-straddling brain-hugger of a choral outro. A great way to end a splendid set from a band destined to become a fixture on my Dance Card. A quick (and aforementioned) chat with Soot Sprite drummer Sean saw him write me out a list (chap!), then I chatted briefly with the Suds folk, collecting scribbles on their list in the process. On my way home shortly thereafter, challenging Harry to a race back to Swindon in the process! Back about 11.30. So, fears during the day that tonight’s gig might be a case of “After The Lord Mayor’s Show”, following last night’s stellar Mew gig, were well and truly allayed. A couple of excellent performances from Soot Sprite and the very fine Suds!

1,427 MEW, The Pale White, London Camden Roundhouse, Thursday 5th February 2026

 

After Gang of Four and October Drift last year, here’s another farewell to a beloved band…

For a brief incandescent period in the early noughties, Denmark’s Mew were just about the best there was. Inveigling themselves into our listening fashion with a frankly astonishing single in “Am I Wry? No” and accompanying album “Frengers”, they owned 2003 with an unique and oft-unpigeonhole-able sound, blending elements from shoegaze, dreampop, grunge and even (hush my mouth) prog into a captivating and oft-symphonic mix, topped by vocalist Jonas Bjerre’s clear, high-register choirboy tones. Plenty of incredible gigs and another superb album followed, before they crashed and burned with their frankly awful 2009 “No More Stories” album, their hitherto delicate touch (possibly influenced by the temporary absence of bassist and fellow guiding light Johan Wohlert) instead smothered with swathes of indistinct synth noise. Johan’s return and a couple of subsequent redemptive albums mostly restored our faith, thankfully, but they’d been absent from my Dance Card since a technically-beset 2017 Trinity gig (gig 1,039). When this date was announced as part of a farewell tour, however, I wasn’t about to miss one last chance to hopefully be dazzled by my early noughties fave…

Tim was up for it too, and a couple of old gig friends booked as well, promising good company both on and off stage! Then Jonas lost his voice, prompting a postponement from the original November 2025 date to tonight, making it their actual last date! A real event in prospect then, as we headed off down a sodden M4, parking in Osterley and tubing over to Camden. Met up with old gig friend no. 1, namely Welsh Mel, for a chat and catch-up in the Enterprise pub opposite, before we entered the Roundhouse’s cavernous confines and grabbed a spot a few rows back, house right. Support The Pale White were on at 7.45; like my previous viewing on the Pixies undercard in 2024 (gig 1,318), their set was predominantly soporific and morose slo-grunge, with a couple of more driving and upbeat Foos-esque numbers to throw some sharp relief. Their closer, “Final Exit”, a melodic harmony-overlaid powerpop choon, was their best by a million miles, otherwise their enthusiastic drummer’s Animal-esque antics were once again their strongest suit… 

Took a wander around the rapidly-filling venue and met up with old gig friend no. 2; none other than 80’s friend Lester Noel! I’d seen Lest a bunch of times in the late 80’s with his splendid C86-influenced jangle pop charges North Of Cornwallis, enjoyed a letter correspondence with him (that’s how we did it back then, email kids…) and seen him out and about at a few gigs, but our paths hadn’t actually crossed for 36 years except via facebook. The years fell away as we caught up, and I was introduced to his son Callum. Made my way back over to Tim as the lights dimmed at 8.45 and Mew took the stage to a suitably elegiac opener, before the twinkling opening of “Satellite” ceded to it’s dark, pounding funk verse base and shimmering chorus, Jonas’ wide-eyed angelic tones already a feature. The angular and equally funky stomp of “Special” then segued into the herky-jerky intro to “Zookeeper’s Boy”, the storm clouds as ever parting for its majestic and soaring hook, accompanied as usual by the offbeat backdrop films featuring cracked porcelain dolls, Beatrix Potter animals and slightly macabre superimposed faces. “Tonight is our very last show,” announced Johan at its conclusion, “it’s weird but thank you for sharing it with us!”

“Sharing” seemed quite an apposite phrase; this indeed was a shared experience, the band feeding off the reverential acclaim of this devoted audience and delivering a hard-edged and muscular yet conversely deft, delicate and precise career-spanning performance. Not perfect by any means; a few numbers immediately following “Zookeepers” merged muddily into each other in a slightly unnerving throwback to that poor “No More Stories” gig in 2009 (gig 774), and throughout the gig, Jonas’ voice very occasionally sounded a little husky in the lower register, perhaps a legacy of his recent voice issues… However when Mew hit the heights tonight (which was more often than not) they recalled those dazzling “holy shit!” moments of their 2003-2006 “live” pomp. Newie (?) “Gliding” was elegiac and hymnal, returning to that delicate touch; the harsh sheet-metallic opening of “Snow Brigade” led into a cascading and thrilling tumble of sound; “Symmetry” cleared the air with a haunting and stark vocal duet between Jonas and Becky Jarrett, projected onto the backdrop screen; and whilst “Apocalypso” felt a little crushingly heavy-handed, the loud-quiet dramatics of “She Spider” built to an careering and undulating crescendo, before set closer “Rows” again built from a hushed, slow-burn opening into a soaring and stately outro. 

“[This is] our first single; everyone thought we were crazy!” announced Johan before the urgent, almost punk rock encore “I Should Have Been A Tsin-Tsi For You”, accompanied by lurid dayglo pandas on the backdrop; then the highlight of the night for me, the crashing intro to “Am I Wry? No” heralding a sweeping, stately and utterly magnificent version of Mew’s mood- and tempo-changing high watermark. Thanks and compliments from the band during the slow-burn, brooding intro to closer “Comforting Sounds”, before the song burst into life and built to a lengthy, symphonic instrumental outro, one final crashing and thrilling crescendo of noise rounding off proceedings, the band then taking a lengthy and deserved bow.

Squirmed my way to a barrier spot and was handed Johan’s setlist – a huge 4 pager! Even with the glasses, Johan…? Unsurprisingly, I was stopped multiple times on the way out by fellow punters for a pic of said manuscript, before a smoother than anticipated tube journey and thankfully unimpeded drive home (no moving roadblocks this time!) saw Tim drop me off just after 1. On reflection, and despite a few bumps in the road, this really was a special one, both on and off stage. If this is really farewell to Mew (and indications from the stage were a little contradictory at times) then this was a brilliantly apt and entirely fitting eulogy to a very beloved band. Thank you Mew, we’ll miss you!

1,426 SWINTERFEST 2026, Swindon The Hop and The Victoria, Thursday 29th and Friday 30th January 2026

 

I am resolved this year to get out more locally, take a bit more interest in the Swindon music scene, hopefully with the help of a certain reformed 90’s indie-rock rabble…! Anyway, a pretty decent opportunity to make an early start on this resolution came in the shape of Swinterfest; the brainchild of Swindon Shuffle impresario Ed Dyer, this is effectively the Shuffle’s Winter younger brother, showcasing local musical talent and raising money for the Prospect Hospice in the process. And the debut appearance at this years ‘fest of the aforementioned reformed 90’s rabble ensured a debut appearance from me as well! 

But I skip ahead; my first Swinterfesting came on Thursday evening, as I joined the early comers just after 7.45 in the upstairs room of The Hop, for some lower key acoustic shenanigans to ease myself in. As I arrived, Chippenham native MAC LLOYD was working through some 70’s inflected bluesy folk with some tape loop rhythmic backing. A vibe slightly at odds with his evident youth, he was nonetheless an engaging opener. I then ran into gig friend Jo for a catch up, before she took her floor seated spot and I squirmed forward for my reason for attendance tonight, namely FLO AND THE ESCAPE LANE, on at 8.30. Flo, daughter of course of “live” fave of mine, the excellent Nick Parker, weaved a gossamer-light set of her own compositions around the centrepiece of an excellent cover of Kate Bush’s “This Woman’s Work”, which positively glowed under Flo’s interpretation. Backed ably by her 2-piece band, including Nick’s partner in crime John Hare, this was a delicately delivered yet absorbing half-hour set from the odd-socked Flo, recalling the likes of Cowboy Junkies’ hushed incandescence or Madder Rose’s slower alt-country moments, and made me make a mental note to turn up early for her set supporting her dad here in March. 

Old posse mate Rog turned up so we caught up, before Ed introduced “local legends” MR. LOVE AND JUSTICE to the stage. Mainman Steve Cox, a mate of Rog’s and a veteran local musical presence, introduced, “the superannuated section of the evening; bus pass rock!” but along with his 2 equally accomplished sidekicks, delivered some highly melodic and well-constructed tuneage, variously recalling the smooth mellow 70’s vibe of Stealer’s Wheel, or the more Beatles-influenced and pastoral latter-day XTC. “Welcome To our Garden” was, oddly enough, a Rupert Lowe diss track (!) with a subtle protest undercurrent recalling Ian Prowse’s work, and closer “What If” was the most strident and rocking number of a very entertaining set, delivered with verve and humour by the gregarious Cox. The first time I’d seen this lot “live”, disgracefully, but hopefully not the last… So this took me up to just after 10, and a chat with Dubs and Paul Carter while the headliners set up. But I decided on an early night instead, so bade farewell, bumping into Rog and neighbour Steve on the way out, to end my Swinterfest Day 1!

I had company for Day 2, as Logan and boyfriend Kristian joined me for an early start to the more rock-orientated Friday programme. However we arrived at 7 to find a slight delay in proceedings, so chatted with Tim and Andy before openers SUNKATS. A group of veteran covers band musos, apparently, their stock-in-trade was more 70’s twiddly prog and 80’s proto hair metal, like ZZ Top without the beards as Andy put it! Well played, sure, but not my thing. But then my “thing” was next up… 

Happily, a decent crowd had gathered for MEZZANINE, on at 8, and Logan, Kristian and I had pitched up at the front, house left. Opener “Turn It Up” was a rampaging statement of intent, a sleazoid new wave anthem played with ferocious conviction, volume… and pace! “The Clause” was a psych/ punk collision and both “Staring At The Sun” and a later “Alien” had propulsive push’n’shove rhythmic nods to the likes of Five Thirty and even The Jam. Prior to that, “Satellite” was a swaggering Stones-like strut, and the Stone Roses backbeat of “Down By The Ocean” was excellent, the most polished and hookiest number in their current set, getting Logan and I rocking out and singing along.

“I can’t believe this is our last song already!” exclaimed an incredulous Andy before closer “Like Your Lycra”, recalling the reaction of another singer, after another superb and equally lightning-fast set, namely Stacy Jones at the end of American Hi-Fi’s Reading 2001 turn (gig 526). “Lycra” itself was a brilliant breathless power-chord propelled punk-pop punctuation point to another fine Mezzanine set, the band continuing to pick up virtually seamlessly after a 30-odd year pause from their 101 days! 

Logan and Kristian headed off then, but I was in for the long-haul tonight! Next up was CAREFUL, SPIDER, a 4-piece who came recommended by the esteemed Mr. Geoffrey Head. Their opener “The Line” was a lengthy and metronomic layered backbeat Space/ Krautrock creature, with some interesting shoegaze/ post-punk guitar overlays (I swore I heard a “She’s Lost Control” riff there briefly…!). The subsequent 2 numbers were equally spacious, meandering things, with slow-burn, almost bleak and eerie openings building to noisier crescendos, and set closer “Anomie” gained momentum and speed throughout, again building to a dramatic denouement. Intriguing stuff from a band I’d certainly check out again.

Not sure about the next 2 though; a fiddly set up involving multiple amps and banks of keys delayed the arrival of DREAMWEAPON, who arrived onstage to a stark C&W backing track extolling the virtues of Satan (!). Their oeuvre could best be described as screamo Country, which was painful on the ears for me, so after 1 number Tim and I retreated to the bar. Back in for the subsequent BOSS CLOTH, as Tim grabbed his gear and headed off, but again they weren’t my cup of tea, their heavy pounding riffs and in-your-face half growled, half rapped vocal delivery giving me serious nu-Metal/ Rage Against The Machine flashbacks. Not for me, so again I sought refuge in the bar, chatting to Beef and his mate Jaz, and then catching up with occasional gig buddy Paul from Chiseldon! 

This actually brought us up to 11 p.m. (!) and tonight’s headliners, the hotly-tipped I SEE ORANGE (Ed actually introducing them as his tip for the next band to, “break out from Swindon”!). A 3-piece fronted by Giselle, a tiny yet striking Mexican brunette who apologised for any huskiness in her voice, the legacy of a cold, she led her charges into opener “Allow Me”, an acerbic heavy yet hooky grunge-a-thon overlaid by her distinctive vocal, which veered from an atonal Sioux-alike dismissive drone to a Courtney Love scalded howl. This set the tone for a dynamic, hard-riffing set of robust 90’s post-grunge rockers, variously recalling Love’s band Hole, the smoother insouciance of Veruca Salt, and (inevitably, but as I always say, clip clops = horse) Nirvana. Giselle herself was an engaging frontperson, politely introducing each song with, “we’re going to play [this] for you now,” and explaining the premise behind most numbers. “Di Melo”, sung half-Spanish, half English, was an early highlight; newie “Obsessed” featured a hookier chorus; and whilst a couple of mid-set numbers seemingly merged into each other under all the power chords, closer “Mental Rot” was the set highlight, a sturdy Veruca Salt hooky banger with a more upbeat mood. A little musical variation might be nice, but I’m being picky here; this was a fine set played with power and purpose from a very promising band who I’d happily see again and again, and who may well prove Ed right…

That concluded Saturday’s events, so I bade farewell to all and sundry then hit the road home. Family arrangements precluded my attendance for the remainder of the weekend, but I’d seen what I wanted to, and also added a couple of extra bands to my local viewing list. So, an entirely satisfying Swinterfest for me; resolution well and truly under way!

1,425 THE SKIDS, Au Pairs, Bath Komedia, Friday 23rd January 2026

 

My old school punk rock intro to the 2026 gig year continues, with a return to the boards of my first punk rock loves The Skids! This, the 10^th time of asking but the first for just over a year (December 2024, gig 1,362) sees these veteran Scottish anthemic punkers – now down to the one original member in vocalist, lyricist and “face” of the band, the irrepressible Richard Jobson – go out on tour in celebration of their final “first time round” album, 1980’s “The Absolute Game”. Said album, the third in a shade over 18 months, saw a further progression from their savage yet hooky punk beginnings to a more stylish and expansive Berlin-era Bowie-esque soundscape, infused with a sheen as marbled and epic as its cover, and almost bridging the gap between punk and the imminent 80s New Romantic sound. “Gloss pop,” as Jobbo termed it at the time… Anyway, this tour promised an emphasis on this album and a chance to hear some lesser-played classics (one in particular which I’d been hoping to hear since The Skids returned in 2017), so bring it on… 

An added bonus was the addition to the bill of fellow veteran post punkers Au Pairs, a band who’d passed me by back in the day but whom I’d latterly come to appreciate more, so I was aiming for an early arrival. I set off at 5.45 for a chilly drive and wander along from the Podium car park, arriving just after doors and grabbing a barrier spot, house left, next to a lovely couple in fellow veteran gig-goers Nat and Mark, Nat having apparently seen The Skids first time round! The arrival of the support interrupted our gig chat, however; The Au Pairs – like the headliners tonight – are effectively the original frontperson plus a backing line-up of hired hands, but said frontperson Lesley Woods was a stylish, black clad visual focus, with the passing years imbuing her old barked, atonal vocals with a gravelly gravitas befitting their tense, often eerie and claustrophobic austere cold war post-punk material. Opener “Come Again” was a hectic, robust Gang of Four-esque chant-along, with the follow-up “Love Song” more off-kilter and rhythmic, with a haunting Patti Smith-esque mid-song break. Also, like Lydon last time out (and indeed, Jobson later this evening), Woods has surrounded herself with excellent players for this ersatz Au Pairs line up; the slow burn, sprawling menace of “Diet” and a later creepy “Headache” featured some excellent bass, and my set highlight, the funky yet prescient “Armagh” was propelled by some fine militaristic drum rolls. The urgent alarm blare and still relevant hook of “It’s Obvious” rounded out a fine support set from Woods and co; a welcome return!

A long queue for the gents (the clientele being about 95% male tonight!) before I was back in place for The Skids’ arrival at 8.30, the band plunging into strident, fist pumping opener “Happy To Be With You”, initiating the first of many terrace chant singalongs tonight. “Is this the first time The Skids have played in Bath? It was always a bit posh for us!” announced the gregarious vocalist before maintaining momentum with the slashing and undulating riffery of “Out Of Town”. “ “The Absolute Game” was [fellow Skids founder and original guitarist, the late, lamented Stuart Adamson]’s finest work with the Skids,” reflected Jobbo, spotlighting current guitarist Connor Whyte with a throwaway, “so no pressure on this guy…!” 

Jobbo was as ever his usual effusive self, regaling us with stories from those late 70’s times touring and promoting “TAG”, throwing himself around with his usual shadow-boxing abandon, and quipping, “we seem to be attracting a younger audience; that guy over there is only 57!” But for me tonight young Mr. Whyte was the MVP; the only guitarist in the current 4-piece line-up, and with obvious big boots to fill, he delivered a masterclass in intricate rock riffery, brilliantly embellishing the likes of the siren cry of “One Decree” and the stately singalong “Woman In Winter”. But it was “Goodbye Civilian”, my hoped-for number, that was my highlight, the squashy synth pulse being replaced brilliantly by Whyte’s grandiose and glorious picking.

The epic “Arena” rounded off the “TAG” homage, building to a huge crescendo outro, with Jobbo delivering his best and most commanding vocal of the night. Then a few old faves in “that U2 song!”, namely a savage “The Saints Are Coming”, the inevitable but still welcome “Into The Valley”, an uncomfortably relevant “Working For The Yankee Dollar” (Jobbo commenting “[this] means more today than when we wrote it at 16 years old”) and an unexpected encore of a pacey and ragged “Olympian” (delivered as folk were milling off following the anticipated set closer “Charles”) rounded off another fine Skids set. My promotor friend Kieran (whom I’d bumped into earlier) was roadie-ing tonight and sorted me with Jobbo’s list (hooray!), before I headed off for an early home arrival just before 11, catching up with “The Traitors” final over a late kebab tea. No treachery tonight from Jobbo and his boys, however; powered by a stellar performance from the virtuoso Whyte, they were entirely faithful to the superb “Absolute Game” album material tonight!