1,446 HOME COUNTIES, Fuzz Council, Birmingham Hare and Hounds, Thursday 18th June 2026

A dual purpose gig, this; I was due to meet up with my esteemed gig buddy Howard, whom I met and became fast friends with on the momentous occasion of my 60^th Birthday Gang Of Four Forum gig (gig 1,393), to catch splendid R.E.M tribute band Stipe last month in his native Leamington. Unfortunately family commitments on his part precluded against that, but the man suggested a few other forthcoming gigs he was heading to, this one included, so I checked out the band in question and ultimately booked for this. So I get to check out an intriguing new lot in Bristol’s Home Counties, who on repeated listens to their sophomore 2025 album “Humdrum” overlay a melting pot of post-punk angular art rock and loose limbed, 80’s New Order-esque proto indie dance with lyrics reflecting the mundanity of directionless young adulthood in this fucked up world, and I also get to meet up with my friend. Sounds like a win-win…!

So I hit the road mid-afternoon for a sunny drive up the M40, picking Howard up then driving on to Kings Heath, street parking a short walk from the venue itself. Had a catch up with the man over an absolutely splendid Chicken Tikka Ceylon in Nauka 42, before we wandered around to this evocative and rambling old corner ale house venue, meeting up on the street benches outside with Howard’s nephew Jason, who works as a performance coach for the British American Football Association! Much chat about American sports subsequently ensued, before we wandered in and upstairs to the venue at 8 p.m., just as openers Fuzz Council were kicking into their set. Initially plying an echoey and hard-hitting mix of stomping glam and 60’s psych rock, they then upped the tempo with some mid-set ragged garage indie/punk, including a fine hooky “Subscribe”. A later “Genocide Smile” was my set highlight, recalling Bauhaus’ version of “Third Uncle” with its’ dark, pounding metronomics, and the thrashy punk closer “Talk It Out” even reminded these old ears of The Dickies! Overall, a decent if embryonic opening set…

Took a wander forward in this dark, dingy and evocative upstairs room (which for me resembled Bristol Louisiana’s upstairs hotbox in size, orientation and temperature!), pitching up a couple of rows back from the front, house right, as the young 6-piece Home Counties took the stage to an echoey backing track. Ebullient co-vocalist Will Harrison immediately led the charge into new album opener “Take You Back”, its’ clattering dance beat overlaid by dual call-and-response vocals from Harrison and fellow co-singer Lois Kelly. Oldie “Bethnal Green” followed, a more upbeat and angular post-punk track, featuring some toy organ embellishment and an impassioned vocal from the wide-eyed Harrison, detailing the humdrum (sic) nature of a night out in Bethnal, and fellow first album track “Exactly How It Seems” kept up a ferocious initial pace with an itchy, insistent 80’s funk vibe recalling the likes of Hue and Cry for me! 

This was a splendid performance from this young and promising band, showcasing all aspects of their musical oeuvre, from the herky jerky esoteric Gang Of Four new wave-isms of earlier tracks such as “Dad Bod”, to the much looser-limbed and dancey new material such as an early title track “Humdrum”, the squashy synth intro subsumed by a frantic cowbell dance beat and a memorable combative choral hook from Kelly. And the enthusiasm with which this set was delivered was simply infectious, the dual vocalists regularly jumping in time with the front row dancers, and even getting this old cynic to move along with the rhythm! “Meet Me In The Flat Roof”, a critique on gentrification, was a funky mid-set fave with a staccato one-note synth riff; “You Break It, You Bought It” was a tinny and wiry chant-along; and an acerbic and propulsive oldie in “Back To the 70s” rounded off a hectic and fun set, the band briefly diving offstage before returning with a taut yet bubbling, New FADS/ Paris Angels-esque encore of “Uptight”.

Lois kindly sorted me with a list before chats with the merch-stand bound band, particularly a lengthy chat about influences, the West Country and curry (!) with gregarious bassist/ keyboardist Bill. Farewell to Jason before Howard and I hit the road, then I dropped the man off before an inky but unencumbered Fosse Way dash got me home just after midnight, way earlier than feared. So, a great catch up with a good friend in Howard, a splendid gent whom I’ve only met twice but already feel like I’ve known for years. And a feisty, frantic and fun gig from a very promising lot in Home Counties; I’m not normally a big “indie dance” person but I couldn’t help but be converted by their tunes, hooks and enthusiasm. Great work folks! 

1,445 OVERPASS, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Tuesday 9th June 2026

 

It’s taken until halfway through the year for my first gig at my reigning “most visited in 2025” venue, namely Bristol Rough Trade’s scuzzy back room venue, for one of their new album release show/ meet and greet events… Truth to tell, I’ve not caught up with much new music so far in 2026, the increasing morass of anodyne indie landfill generally leaving me cold. However, I was up for this one, celebrating the debut release from an interesting new lot in Brummies Overpass. I’d picked up on them via their 5 tracker EP “Dependent” last year, enjoying the Editors-esque post-punk and “October”-era U2 atmospherics, and whilst that occasionally strayed close to that yawing indie landfill pit (at least one track recalling Stereophonics, albeit when they were good), there was more than enough decent soaring tuneage to pull them comfortably away from the edge (viz. leadoff track “Be Good To Yourself”, a comfortable entry on my “Best of 2025” CD). So, which direction will their de facto debut album “Elsewhere, Always” (the subject of tonight’s release show) take them in? Intrigued to find out, I booked up for this…

I did actually give it a late call though, as I developed a bit of a headache in the afternoon, but, Anadin-ed up, I went for it anyway, leaving just after 6 for a sunny drive down and parking in Rupert Street. First thing to note was that, since my last visit to RT, they’d clearly spent a fuckton of cash on renovating the space behind the venue room, with a new entrance, swanky bar and a wall partitioning off the venue from the record shop itself, giving it a more self-contained “gig venue” feel. The room itself was already quite full for this sold-out event, and, like contemporaries Inhaler, Overpass seem to attract quite a young crowd… anyway, I found fellow “veteran” gig-goer friend Jeremy down the front, house right, and we caught up. Overpass then joined us onstage at the appointed hour to quite the enthusiastic welcome from their young massive, and proceeded to play us the whole of the new album, start to finish… 

So then, Overpass and the new album material… rousing and soaring atmospheric indie guitar anthems, or trad-hokum “indie-by-numbers” blah? Well, the truth is often somewhere in between, and I definitely felt that in the early stages of their performance, although I’m happy to admit my views might have been coloured by the low-key, understated nature of the performance (I’m always happier when bands really crank it up and go for it), and also by my headache… “Union Station” was a fine starter, hazy and melancholy, and the early “Is This Real?” featured a pacy backbeat from drummer Jake Bishop on his pared-back kit, but the subsequent couple of numbers, despite being lustily sung back to the band by the front rows, passed me by a little, I’m afraid, and I was waiting for a real “banger” to arrive…

And happily, one did, in “Forever You”, an absorbing and building slow burn verse leading to a massive soaring choral hook delivered with conviction by vocalist Max Newbold, and recalling U2’s “resurrection” track “Beautiful Day” to these old ears. Great stuff! The subsequent “Spinning” was also a goodie, a deliciously brooding and morose beast recalling “The Bends”-era Radiohead (i.e. when they were still good and before they disappeared up their own arses), preceded by the otherwise taciturn Newbold sincerely thanking the crowd for getting the album to number 3 in the midweek charts. Then closer “Heaven” topped even “Spinning” for sweeping melancholy, its’ metronomic build and widescreen chorus resembling windswept Celtic masters Idlewild, ensuring a strong finish to a slightly uneven but overall still very promising performance from this still-young and developing band.

By then I’d bade farewell to Jeremy and was at the back, in prime position for a good spot in the signing queue; first, actually! A few words with a polite band about their forthcoming Bristol Electric show in November (already booked for that) before I hit the still-light M4 for a return home to the ‘don at an early 9.15! So, parking the understated delivery and my muzzy head, this was still a very promising and potential-laden showing. Like Crystal Tides and Bono’s lad’s lot Inhaler, Overpass have oven-ready stadium tuneage aplenty in their metaphorical song larder, with even the numbers which drifted by for me being subject to rousing singalongs tonight. So let’s see how this material sounds at the Electric in November, when they (hopefully) really crank it up and go for it…!

1,444 SUGAR, J Robbins, London Kentish Town Forum, Saturday 23rd May 2026

 

“I want to see if people are still interested…” This, according to a “Rolling Stone” interview with the man himself, was the typically understated reason behind US alternative rock innovator and icon Bob Mould’s scarcely believable but extraordinarily welcome decision last October to reunite his short-lived but seminal 90’s post-grunge power trio Sugar for a select few gigs. Honestly, whatever the reason, don’t care, I’m there! An initial slew of US/UK gigs were announced, including a double-header at Kentish Town Forum, where (in its’ former Town And Country Club guise) I’d had my ears blown off for the first time by this lot back in September 1992 (gig 221), so I booked a couple of tix for the first, Saturday, date, for me and interested party son Logan the second they hit the O2 pre-sale. Having sold both dates out in predictably short order, Sugar later announced a second tranche of shows, one at the much nearer Bristol Electric, but by then we were in a headspace for a day up the Smoke, so stuck with the original plan!

Some extra tix became available late on, and after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing, we were joined for Logan’s long-time friend Chloe for the day out, and for her first gig – ever! Hoo boy, talk about a baptism of fire…! We headed off just after midday down a sun-baked M4, parking up in the usual Kentish Town pre-booked parking spot, and tubing down to a packed and boiling Camden. Old friend Thom was up from Bristol, so we met up and chatted in the shade of Camden Boxpark whilst the youngsters shopped, ostensibly for shorts for Logan (my errant son going against parental advice and wearing heavy jeans out, then realising his error in the heat!). Street food in a Camden Market pod, then back to the motor to dump purchases and on to the Bull And Gate for much-needed pre-gig refreshments. Spotted a familiar face there, in the ‘don’s veteran punk band Charred Hearts’ estimable mainman Dermot, the man joining us for a chat outside which, when old friend Keith showed up, turned into a Swindon old school punk rock summit meeting! 

Eventually hit the queue and, after a false start, got in on the O2 Priority and bagged barrier spots, house right for a change – it’s Bob’s side, so there! A slow fill took us to just before 8, when we were joined by solo support J Robbins, former vocalist of 90’s post-hardcore grunge-adjacent US lot Jawbox. A band I didn’t know back then, I enjoyed J’s intricate, almost baroque guitar picking on yearning opener “Anodyne”, likening it to Massachusetts folk rabble Cordelia’s Dad, and giving the man props for good use of the word “supine”! A surprisingly tuneful “Exquisite Corpse”, recalling late period Posies, was juxtaposed with the goth horror of the lyric, and whilst some numbers seemed too intricate for their own good (viz. “Outside The Aviary”), J’s self-effacing charm generally won out. “Dear Leader”, a vitriolic anti-Trump protest song (“I found out I share a birthday with Trump – I very much do not love it!”) was well-received, and the off-kilter Primus rhythm of Jawbox’ hit “Savory” was preceded by recollections of that 90’s post-grunge record industry feeding frenzy. A strident paean to his adopted Baltimore closed out an engaging set from a likeable 90’s survivor simply glad to still be playing in such venues, a closing remark being, “if you told me back then I’d be playing on this show, I’d have shit a brick!”

Passed the interval, as the place properly filled up, with some lively rock chat with Kurt, who’d flown in from his native Alberta, Canada for the gig as he refused to fly South! Good on you, fella! The lights dimmed and, accompanied by The Beatles’ “She Said, She Said” as jaunty intro music, Bob and the boys wandered nonchalantly onstage, plugged in and positively tore into the rock-solid opening riff and rhythm to a brilliantly strident “The Act We Act”, the years falling away. “Act” was, as expected, followed by the creepy “Debaser” bass intro to an equally awesome “A Good Idea”, the “Copper Blue” opening triad being completed with the four-alarm fire ringing opening of a quite magnificent “Changes”. What. A. Start!

“We had to pick the hottest weekend of the Summer to do this, right?” quipped an unusually voluble Bob, before his pocket dynamo buddy, bassist Dave Barbe, lent his vocals to a more languid “Company Book”, the pace and intensity inevitably dropping after that breathless opening (although that was admittedly due to the sheer incandescent magnificence of the opening 3, rather than any shortcomings from the subsequent material). “We’re from the god-forsaken USA,” admitted Bob to pantomime boos before the anthemic “Hoover Dam”, realigning the crowd with, “we’re here to rock, we’re here to have fun!” The descending riff of a ragged “Where Diamonds Are Halos” was again overlaid by Dave’s vocals, nasal and much lighter in comparison to his bandleader’s guttural and stentorian roar; “Your Favorite Thing” was discordant yet insanely groovy and singalong; and the hurtling instrumental “Clownmaster” almost turned into the outro of “Debaser”! Throughout all of this Bob, as ever, prowled the stage like a caged bear and fired riff after riff into the hot and frenzied auditorium like a sub-machine gun, a beatific grin never far from his snowy beard-embellished features. And then it got better… oh boy, did it… 

“We’ve got a couple more numbers for you,” Bob deadpanned before the gyroscopic centrifuge of a savage “Tilted”, powered by some dynamic drum fills from strongarmed veteran sticksman Malcolm Travis; then set closer “JC Auto” topped even that, a fist-pumping, undulating, orgiastic and cacophonous set highlight, Bob delivering one final thunderous vocal roar then pausing to deliver a HHH-style water spray before joining his comrades offstage, leaving his beleaguered guitar squealing feedback in his wake. Woah.

As if deliberately planned to clear the air after that visceral set-closing double, the encores then showcased arguably Sugar’s “poppiest” moments; the delicious descending bassline of “Helpless”, an irresistibly infectious “Gee Angel” and an utterly joyous “If I Can’t Change Your Mind”, rounding off a quite superb showing, Bob and Dave then taking deserved bows. By then we’d been joined at the front by Andrew, vocalist of the excellent Stayawakes, although a combination of my fruitlessly trying for a list (being used tomorrow, fair enough…) and his early train conspired against a lengthier catch up. So we met the balcony-bound Keith in the foyer, bade farewell to Thom and achily wandered back to the car (no mosh tonight, but my dancing and singing along in situ was enough!), reflecting on the gig during a happily swift exit from the Capital and drive home for 1 a.m. A quite superb day out and a triumphant return from Sugar, all agreed, with the opening 3 and final 5 numbers particularly memorable. Either way, one thing is crystal clear… yes Bob, we most definitely ARE still interested!

1,443 GIRL SCOUT, My First Time, Bristol Thekla, Thursday 21st May 2026

 

About time I get to see this lot in their own right; after a false start last year (I had tickets for their Southampton Heartbreakers gig last February, but a combination of Rachel being in hospital and too much else going on precluded my attendance), Stockholm’s fledgling indie-popsters Girl Scout finally get a headlining gig on my Dance Card, following 3 impressive support slots with Coach Party and Alvvays. This one is part of a UK jaunt promoting debut album “Brink”, which on initial listens (on Spotify; I bought one tonight, honest!) is bursting with the characteristics which permeated their 3 “live” shows so far; loud, crunchy and driving guitars, mood/tempo changes without losing that inherent tuneful indie-pop core, and hooks aplenty delivered with aplomb by vocalist Emma Jansson and her charges. An album where, as soon as I’ve decided which is my favourite track, the next one comes along and makes me rethink it (I’m sure I said something similar about Alvvays one time…), so this promises to be a banging gig… 

A last-minute text to old gig buddy Andy “Beef” prompted him to get a ticket, so we headed down a sun-kissed M4, getting in a surprisingly quiet venue about 20 minutes after doors and grabbing a stage spot house right, under the ceiling-suspended speakers. I’d actually (for once!) done a bit of due diligence on the support band, so was anticipating their arrival prompt at 7.30. Bristol 5-piece My First Time (or MFT, it wasn’t entirely clear which) were said band, bursting into life with opener “Brand New”, the urgent alarm bell opening subsequently submerged by a fuzzed-out riff and angsty, dynamic barked vocals from “singer” Isaac Stroud-Allen, setting the tone for their set. Subsequent numbers, e.g. funky mid-set highlight “The Kids Are”, featured a thick bass-heavy rhythm underpinned by the impressive fretwork of the bouncy Naia Jones, and whilst I’m not usually a fan of the more overt rap-adjacent vocal delivery style, I must admit Stroud-Allen’s rabble-rousing vocals suited the dynamic, confrontational material and terrace chant hooks. The penultimate growl of “Picture Of Health” was my highlight of a hard-hitting indie dance set which was rapturously received by the hometown crowd (the singer often abandoning the stage to join in with a full-on mosh) and recalled for me the indie/dance collision of recent faves Home Counties, and even old 80’s lot Age Of Chance! Good stuff, hopefully my first time with My First Time won’t be my last time!

The place got appreciably quieter after MFT as Girl Scout set up, but was happily well populated for the Stockholm indie-popsters’ unheralded entrance at 8.30. They eased into the apt “Intro”, initially weaving a pastoral strumalong vibe until the huge grungy riffs kicked in, then the strident Pixies-ish riff of “Un Huh” led into a brilliantly taut, bright yet hard-edged “ Same Kids” and a similarly galloping “Song 1”, underpinned by an undulating synth riff building to a soaring chorus and middle 8. Great start! 

“Brink” itself largely falls between the dynamic indie bounce of Aussies The Beths and the textural, layered dreampop of Canadians Alvvays, which has pretty much been the area occupied by Girl Scout on previous “live” outings. This time, however, there was much more of the seething power and punkish delivery of erstwhile tourmates Coach Party in their performance, with most numbers sounding notably heavier, grungier and harder-edged than on record (although I confess our position, with my head practically in the speakers, may have had an influence here…). And the double denim-clad munchkin Emma was a revelation, her oft girlish and airy vocals regularly usurped by a red-faced, primal and lengthy howl, underlining the more in-your-face show. The mid-set “Dead Dog”, preceded by Emma exhorting Bristol to dance, was a thrilling indie banger; outlier “Ugly Things” (“about my morning commute!”) diffused the mood with some Alvvays-like wispier dreampop; and the herky-jerky “stop start beep beep” rhythm of an almost jaunty “Operator” was followed by set highlight, a brilliant, widescreen and anthemic “Crumbs”. 

The metronomic punk of closer “I Just Needed” gave us a breather before the encore of punchy oldie “Do You Remember Sally Moore?” rounded up a surprisingly powerful performance from a band really coming into their own. Grabbed a list then met Bristol gig buddy Louise queueing up for signatures and pics from a breathless, sweaty but ebullient band. Got out of the car park before getting towed (its closing after midnight, I think we were ok for time really!) and home for ¼ to 11. After this performance, I think “Brink” is going to be a feature in the “Best Of 2026” reckoning, and Girl Scout have well and truly joined their former tourmates Coach Party and Alvvays as “live” must-sees in their own right!

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!