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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

1,450 to 1452 AMERICAN HI-FI “We’re Fucking Back” TOUR

 

1,450 – Supp. BOWLING FOR SOUP, FRANK TURNER AND THE SLEEPING SOULS, Cardiff Castle, Saturday 4^th July 2026, driving with Logan

1,451 – AHF headlining with support DON’T PANIC, Birmingham O2 Institute, Tuesday 7^th July 2026, driving on my own

1.452 – AHF headlining with support DON’T PANIC, London Islington Academy, Thursday 9^th July 2026, driving with Tim Owen

A rare (and last-minute) triple-header but no surprise really, given the hosts…As stated above, “We’re Fucking Back!” was the self-explanatory strapline for the breathtaking news that Boston’s own powerpop ruffians (and hosts of my favourite ever Reading Festy set in their devastating 2001 tent slot, gig 526) American Hi-Fi were breaking a 12 year hiatus and muddying the shores of the UK once again. Initially they were added as openers for the already mega Bowling For Soup/ Frank Turner “Bowl My Bones” double-header Summer open-air tour, which was awkward news – Rach and Logan had booked for the Cardiff Castle leg, but I’d opted out to be on daughter taxi duty that day. However, just as I was exploring the possibility of going to another of the BFS/FT shows, more agreeable news of 3 Hi-Fi solo headlining shows broke, so I quickly jumped on the pre-sales for both Birmingham and London (I know, I know, I’m retired on less money, so I’m trying to go to fewer gigs and no duplicates, but it’s the Hi-Fi, right?). However, two became three on the morning of the Cardiff gig, as Rach, who’d taken Jami to theatre shows in Oxford and Bristol the 2 nights before, decided she was too tired to complete a triple-header of her own, so, supportive husband that I am, I graciously offered to take Logan to Cardiff for a pretty much nailed-on dream line-up for my 19 year old son. And, 3 in 3 for me for the Hi-Fi? You bet!

So, Chapter 1 was said jaunt to Cardiff; noting (alleged) global pop megastar Pitbull was playing Blackweir Fields, North of the Castle (and scene of my birthday Cure gig, gig 1,448), we avoided that area altogether, parking in a pre-booked spot opposite the CIA at 3, South East of the city centre, following a quick run to the ‘diff and crawl to the car park! Met local friend Mel, Swindon FT fan Jo plus other folks at the Queen’s Vault for a sunny pint, chat and pisstake of the Pitbull fans, uniformly dressed in white shirt, black ties and bald skullcaps! Eventually hit the North Entrance, queueing up just before 5 pm doors then grabbing a barrier spot in this North facing enclosed open-air venue (c.10K capacity, so some way short of Blackweir!) passing the time chatting to punters as gig MC Jon Mahon did pop-punk pop quizzes of the front rows!

Eventually our MC did his job and took to the stage, revving up the crowd and inviting American Hi-Fi onstage at 6.30. Observant guitarist and old Boston buddy Jamie Arentzen noticed Logan and myself straight away, and, following the usual, “whats up! We’re American Hi-Fi, we’re a rock’n’roll band from Boston Massachusetts,” intro and lead into the ringing riff of titanic traditional opener “Surround”, so did vocalist Stacy, greeting us midway through the first verse with a, “hey man!” We of course went for it from note one, dancing and singing along to every word (props to Logan here, who’d only initially heard some of the material on the drive down!), and following the buoyant yet dismissive snark of “The Breakup Song”, Stacy commented on our shirts with, “Pixies, Modern Lovers, you guys are representing down there!” 

Needless to say, American Hi-Fi were utterly brilliant, delivering a titanic, rampaging and frankly incendiary half hour of pure escapist anthemic singalong rock’n’roll of the highest order which simply hurtled by, and this despite being only ½ of the usual line-up, with experienced hands in drummer Neal Daniels and former Bosstones man Lawrence Katz filling in seamlessly for Messrs. Nolan and Parsons. “The one slow dance of the night,” the swayalong anthem “Another Perfect Day” drew an exceptional Bowie-esque middle 8 riff from Jamie; the cut-and-paste new wave homage “Art Of Losing” was hurtling and breathtaking, seeing me hold my phone (emblazoned with a vintage AFH “Hello I Am A Loser” sticker) aloft; and, following a turn from BFS drummer Gary Wiseman on “The Geeks Get The Girls”, Stacy recalled their last UK tour (in 2005 with BFS, gig 683), then thanked all and sundry before challenging us to sing along to closer “Flavor Of The Weak”, the band delivering a soaring and quite brilliant version of their classic to close out the set, Jamie unhooking a list for me at its’ close. Result! 

“Right, that’s it, I’m going home now!” was my tongue-in-cheek comment to all and sundry as we headed out, eventually settling halfway back, house left for Frank Turner And The Sleeping Souls’ 7.20 entrance, Logan leaving me for the moshpit at this point. Frank’s opener “I Still Believe” immediately got the faithful singing along, propping up his own slightly strained vocals, before he challenged us to, “get this party moving” with the frantic, furious hoedown of “Try This At Home”, then welcoming us to “show 3,164!” and initiating the first of several circle pits for the amped up, punked up “Girl From The Record Shop”, teasing the faithful with, “they made big ones in Scotland, England… even [last night in] North Wales!”

At this point I noticed the Hi-Fi wandering past on the cobbled walkway so I doorstepped Jamie for a hug, chat and catch-up on our family situation, to a sympathetic response from my old Boston friend. Back in at the end of “No Thank You For The Music”, Frank initiating a “wall of hugs” in the mosh, before a plaintive and rather lovely set highlight “Wessex Boy”. In fact, for all Frank’s usual punk rock shenanigans, requests to park our cool and jump along (“if you bought a ticket for me and BFS, the cool train left the station a long time ago!”) and general messages of inclusiveness and positivity, for me he was most effective tonight with the volume turned down; “Wessex Boy” was followed by an equally lovely solo “Way I Tend To Be” and a superb singalong to “Ballad Of Me And My Friends”, while a later, moody and brooding “Polaroid Picture”, particularly the acapella outro, ran “Wessex Boy” close for my set highlight tonight.

 “I know you’ve come to see… me and only me (!), but I bumped into 3 guys from Dallas [earlier today]…” Frank deadpanned before introducing BFS vocalist Jaret Reddick onstage to sing the final verse of “Prufrock”, Jaret’s reedier tones suffering badly in comparison to Frank’s authoritative roar (even given his strained tones!); then a punk rock double of “Get Better” and “Four Simple Words”, Frank crowdsurfing early doors then leading ballet twirls in the slower mid-section (!), rounded off a ragged yet typically excellent Frank Festy set, my son finally emerging elated from the pit. We then sought a seating spot to rest my barking heel, as dusk wrapped a hazy shroud around the arena (some early rain spots thankfully coming to naught), but then took a spot at the back for Bowling For Soup’s entry at 9.05 to a typically cartoonish film backdrop. “This isn’t the first, but it is the most badass castle we’ve played at!” announced Jaret before leading the now-3 piece Soup into “Almost”, then playing a cheesy yet crowd-pleasing medley before a more upbeat “High School Never Ends” and a splendid early “Ohio” bringing back memories for Logan (see gig 974!), Jaret also gaining favour with the Welsh crowd with a subsequent “oggy oggy oggy” chant. 

Frankly (sic) however, following the pure rock brilliance of The Hi-Fi and Frank, Bowling For Soup were fun but less substantial fayre, the cartoon antics wearing a little thin on me (although delighting much of the young and female contingent in the crowd, particularly the girls behind Logan and myself) and the copious between-song banter feeling a little forced, lacking the previous scatological spontaneity between Jaret and the now-retired and much-missed big Chris Burney. Bringing a dragon onstage during “Punk Rock 101” was a nice touch for the locals, but after a straight cover of “Stacy’s Mom” I suggested to Logan I was ready to go anytime thereafter. He actually felt the same (suggesting BFS were a band he’d loved as a kid but had now grown out of somewhat), so we headed off about 10 to 10, back to the car for 10 and home just after 11.30 after a swift run, late kebab tea in tow. Overall, though, a very successful Chapter 1! 

Chapter 2 was a trip up to Birmingham for the first Hi-Fi UK headlining show since that 100 Club gig in May 2014 (gig 915). I’d booked VIP tickets for this one and a call to the venue suggested that started at 6.15; nonetheless I set off mid-afternoon in case it was earlier. Good thing too, as stationary traffic around the new Birdlip turned me into a screaming stressed mess in the car and added nearly an hour (!) to my journey; nevertheless I parked up in a pre-booked space around the corner at 5.30 and joined the queue on the baking hot pavement outside. The VIP meet was at 6.30, and amazingly it was just 2 of us, myself and a chap named Bruno, who’d flown over from Paris for the gig – respect! There was a third VIP booked, apparently; they just didn’t show! So we got plenty of face time with the band, and I got to catch up again with Stacy and Jamie, meet Lawrence and Neal, show them all vintage pix from our first Hi-Fi gig back in 2000 (gig 446!) and share the story of our previous meeting with Lawrence (before the Bleu Boston gig in 2001, gig 511!). Pix, free teeshirts and guaranteed setlists too -result! Eventually rounded things up with the band and hit the compact and bijou 600 capacity venue, grabbing barrier house right, eventually being joined by our queue friends plus Gary, a Don’t Panic fan from Monmouth and his family, for pre-gig chat.

Don’t Panic came on at 8 so I let Gary’s kids borrow my barrier spot; this Pennsylvania 4-piece kicked into opener “Conscience” which initially gave me Jimmy Eat World “Sweetness” vibes, “Lifetime Away” was jumpier and more trad pop-punk, and the harder-edged, punkier “Long Way” was preceded by vocalist Ted Felicetti giving props to tonight’s headliners with, “I first saw [AHF] in 2002, there was another ban, Rival Schools, playing [as well]!” Overall a slightly generic but upbeat and tuneful guitar-propelled opening set, with the snaking riffery and singalong hook of closer “Fall Of 99” a highlight.

A quick panic loo trip still saw me back at my spot, as time ticked on and the familiar figure of Saturday’s MC Joe Mahon (a Brummie native, apparently), gave a hyped-up intro to the Hi-Fi by challenging the crowd to, “bring that Ozzy energy!”. The boys then bounded onstage, hooking up and Stacy giving the usual welcome, but opener “Surround” however initially sounded a little understated, the bass low in the mix and Stacy’s higher register vocals a little echoey. However the boys attacked the track, particularly the speeded up outro, with their usual gusto and chutzpah, and it all sounded sorted in short order. Hooray! 

Sound hiccup dispensed with, American Hi-Fi proceeded to tear the O2 Institute a new one, delivering a trademark performance replete with kinetic energy, dynamism and verve, feeding off the energy of us front-row devotees who were rocking out from word one, fist-pumping the air to the big hooky choruses, and generally immersing ourselves in one of the best “live” rock’n’roll bands its’ been my pleasure to see. Twelve years away? P’fah! “You guys – holy shit!” Stacy exclaimed after the descending hook of “Scar”, clearly feeling it too, before sipping on his drink with, “I’ve switched from Coors Light to Sancerre!” A rampaging “Bigger Mood” preceded Stacy remarking, “fun fact – that riff was the first thing I wrote for this band!”; the brilliantly slow-burn and anthemic “Another Perfect Day”, probably my set highlight, preceded a surprisingly haunting and affecting “Acetate”, and “Geeks” saw Stacy again thank the crowd for coming back after 25 years; “and we’re planning on coming back next year!” We’ll hold you to that, dude…!

Set closer “Heavy” saw some almost heavy hair metal riffing, Stacy requisitioning one of Neal’s drumsticks for said purpose (!), then a breathless and swift 1 hr 10 performance closed out with encore “Flavor Of The Weak”, Stacy holding his guitar aloft in salute. Bruno and I were given our promised set-lists and I took a quick loo break, emerging to a surprisingly deserted venue! Into the lobby which was tumbleweed quiet as well – honestly I’ve never seen a venue that size clear that fast without a fire alarm activation! So I got some fresh air, found the backstage load-in and decided to wait, persistence being rewarded with a post-gig chat with the boys. Back to the car at 11.20 for a confusing run out of Digbeth and a blast down the M5 listening to World Cup footy, Birdlip happily clearer for a 1 a.m. arrival home!

So to Chapter 3; Tim had car logistics issues so I picked him up at 3.30, parking at Hayes and Harlington for the Lizzie line in. I’d mentioned to Tim that this was the quicker route, so of course TFL proceeded to prove me wrong, power failure on the line adding ½ hour to the journey. Bah! Still, in the O2 priority queue at ¼ to 7 and quickly in, grabbing a barrier spot house left and chatting to fellow early comers, including a bloke who’d flown over from Italy for this gig and had actually flown over to Madrid in 2024 to see The Gigolo Aunts (I did Barcelona of course, gig 1,348!)! Don’t Panic, again on promptly at 8, were again a decent support without being mind-blowingly original; “Long Way” was again a punky early highlight, “It’s Over” more heartfelt and emotive on second listen, and a later “Sound Engineer” gave me heartland emo Menzingers vibes. I’m damning them with faint praise, really… I’ve seen a whole lot worse supports! 

Some splendid PA tracks (Fanclub, Redd Kross – surely the Hi-Fi’s playlist) took us to 9, the sinister tones of Sonic Youth’s “Death Valley 69” welcoming the band onstage. No sound issues this time; it sounded superb straight from the off, “Surround” hard and heavy and “Scar” even better, rambunctious and rocking. “It’s been far too long!” announced Stacy, Fantasy Band Camp perma-grin slapped as ever clear across his features, already promising to return next year with, “more shows and new music!” This led into probably the best performance of the 3, certainly the loudest and most dynamic, much of that honestly thanks to the temporary battery of the rock solid Lawrence and strong-armed, hard hitting Neal, providing the solid base for the Hi-Fi’s irresistibly catchy singalong tuneage. Nary a pause for breath either, as the band whipped through the set with scarily impressive commitment. “Another Perfect Day”’s anthemic ringing guitar riff again shone; similarly virtuoso fretwork from Jamie powered an impressive “I’m A Fool”; and following a heartfelt speech from Stacy about the UK being, “the first place that really “got” us,” “Art Of Losing” probably won the day for me, the deluge of terrace-chant hooks in the chorus ringing around the venue. 

“Happy” rounded off the set again, before encore “Flavor Of The Weak” unsurprisingly saw the biggest singalong of the night, a fitting way to end another incendiary show. Lawrence unhooked a list for me – result! – and we mooched around, also chatting to a watching Tim Wheeler of Ash. Nice! Chats with the Hi Fi boys too after they emerged elated and thankful, ultimately tearing ourselves away with Stacy’s kind “blessings to the family” final words ringing in my ears. An easier exit out of London then saw me home at 1 am after dropping Tim off. Aching for a couple of days afterwards but worth it, for an incredible triple-header in the presence of one of the consistently greatest, most incendiary and immersive “live” bands I’ve ever seen. Top Live Band of 2026? It’s no contest, it’s American Hi-Fi!

1,449 CRYSTAL TIDES, HUNNY BUZZ, Frome The Tree House, Friday 26th June 2026

 

A late call and one I originally turned down, this; I’d thoroughly enjoyed thrusting and enthusiastic new indie lot Crystal Tides at the Thekla in March (gig 1,436), when I took up gig friend Jeremy’s spare ticket to see one of his current faves. However, when he suggested this one, I initially declined, given that I’d just seen them recently and I’m supposed to be being sensible about my gig choices post-retirement, right? Well, that of course was before Bristol’s effervescent female-fronted indie popsters and increasing “live” faves of mine, Hunny Buzz, were added to the bill as support; I’d also seen them recently (on the Coach Party Thekla undercard, gig 1,430) but this now looked increasingly tempting as a double-header. So “maybe, maybe not,” became a, “what time am I picking you up then?” 

Trundled down the M4 to Chippenham then scooped Jeremy up from Bradford on Avon, finding this new pub corner venue on the outskirts of Frome and squeezing into the last parking space! Had a brief chat with Hunny Buzz drummer Ben Laver and vocalist Lydia Read at the bar before some beer garden time, eventually wandering up the stairs to this compact and bijou Cheese and Grain sister venue. An upstairs room of similar size to the Lousiana, this, albeit with a higher ceiling and some very welcome indeed air conditioning! Bumped into local promoter mate Kieran, out on a birthday bender, down the front before Hunny Buzz took the stage at 8. Lydia commented, “let’s get this party started,” before growling, grungy opener “I Want You Back” set the tone for the early exchanges, the band dynamic and committed as ever but Lydia’s understated and coquettish vocals being slightly lost in the mix, particularly during the rockier, noisier choruses. “Wishbone” sounded a little clearer with a brooding slow-burn verse build to a noisy hook; the renamed “Beat 19” (FKA “Kiss You” before they apparently changed the title in the studio!) picked up the pace, a groovy number ceding to a more driving chorus; then Ben (a “local legend” from nearby Melksham, and taking some stick from band and audience on this point…) took centre stage for the “Honey Buzz Teleshopping” segment, parading their merch around! The change of pace “Hey Mary” featured a yearning verse, Lydia then encouraging a singalong to the hook, before the excellent “Car Collision” got me moving down the front, rounding off a raw, ragged and slightly murky sounding (not their fault!) but typically energetic and spritely performance from a band increasingly on the up for me…

Not long to wait as the place filled up towards 9 p.m; the 5-piece Crystal Tides took the stage, looking as if they’d all struggle to fit on (!), busting into an agenda setting opening of “Movies” and “Last Time”, fast-paced and soaringly hooky indie bangers both. “Fucking hot, isn’t it!” queried ball-of-energy vocalist, the white-clad Billy Gregory, then suggesting Joe Knight had  been caning it before the gig! “Just Friends” continued the thrusting momentum, before the edgier, hard hitting and uncharacteristically moody “Down”. 

“Down” aside, however, Crystal Tides again dished up a splendid “live” set of effervescent, soaring and singalong indie pop, played with what appears (on this and that Thekla showing) to be their trademark of raucous energy, wide-eyed enthusiasm, and lengthy in-band banter and piss-taking, just like a gang of mates would… The Waltham-esque stomp of “Homesick” was followed by Billy abandoning the stage to mosh during “Back To You”, returning with the comment of “[I’m] out of breath; like I’ve been in a boxing match!”; a couple of “old, crap ones” in the rarely played “Don’t Wanna Wait” and “Sinner” were fine, but also showed the evolution of their songwriting to their hookier later material; and the rabble-rousing hook of “Sidelines”, Billy leading a call-and-response with the crowd (you can’t just go to a Crystal Tides gig, you have to get involved, you know!) was a late set highlight. The acoustic intro and build to traditional set closer “The Middle” then saw Billy comment, “we’d walk off… but there’s nowhere to walk off to!”, so the band briefly turned their backs on us instead! The rampaging “Honey”, accompanied by some retina-scalding strobe, rounded off another inclusive and fun set from this bunch of Pompey reprobates, who will be increasingly inveigling themselves onto my “Dance Card” with these types of performances!

Grabbed a list and had a chat with Hunny Buzz guitarist Rowan Barfoot, before dropping Jeremy off and heading onward home, back about ¼ to 12. Glad I took up this late call to see both bands at such close quarters, because on the strength of tonight’s performances, I reckon it won’t be long before both bands are treading the boards at Frome’s bigger venue!