Wake
up folks, it’s time to “Shiiine”! Time to haul my already aching limbs off to
Minehead, to immerse myself in the annual 3-day celebration of 80’s/ 90’s UK
indie rock and dance, with friends and like-minded folks, for the 6th
time in a row (pandemic-hit 2020 notwithstanding). This one was initially a
little tricky to arrange, given that last year’s “Core 4” was reduced to 3 with
Ady’s move to Glasgow, but luckily Matt persuaded his old school chum and
fellow indie buff Martin to join us. I’d met the man at the recent Dean Wareham
gig (gig 1,238) and found a knowledgeable and enthusiastic fellow aficionado,
who would hopefully fit right in with Matt, Rach and myself. So, it’s all
systems go for Shiiine On, Take 6!
Rach
and I hit the road at 9.30 after dealing with some school hiccups with the
daughter of the house beforehand and en route… we thought for one brief
moment that we’d have to turn back, but things got sorted (thanks Grandma and
Grandad!) so we made our increasingly sunny way down, queueing up in roadworks
on the outskirts of Minehead, but meeting Matt for the usual Tesco breakfast
fixings shop and excellent fish and chip seafront lunch. Martin joined us
shortly thereafter to join in the traditional chippy nosh, roadworks having
hampered his journey from Truro, and we then joined the car queue for entry,
eventually being ushered to the far entrance where our welcome packs (plus a
keycard each! Hooray!) were waiting for us at the alphabetised gates. Easily
the best and most efficient booking-in process of all Shiiine On’s so far; well
done Butlins! So, we unpacked and chilled awhile in our second floor (uh, oh,
the knees aren’t going to like that at 2 a.m.!) comfort apartmen,t before
venturing into the main tented “Skyline Arena” (Martin slightly in awe of this huge
main space!) for our festival openers THE K’S, on at 3.45. I’d caught the
arse-end of this young rabble’s Victorious Festival set (gig 1,240), and here
they warmed up the early comers with a Jam-ish set of earnest push’n’shove
mod/Britpop noise. They reminded these old ears of 70’s Mod revivalists Secret
Affair – a band whom, due to my punk allegiances, I utterly loathed at the time
but have since mellowed on – and in the Skids-like opening riff and “Motown
Junk” elongated verse line of “Glass Towns”, and the later, insistent soaring
hook and backbeat verse of “Sarajevo”, had a couple of pretty decent numbers to
hang their collective hats on. Not bad for starters!
Off
to the Inn On The Green, the small pub venue at the back of the main complex,
for a drink outside whilst THE DIRT were making a horrendous fuzzed-up messy
noise onstage. The shouty aggressiveness of Idles meets tuneless Sleaford Mods
drum machine beats. Yuck! Thankfully they abated, and we had some more tuneful
fayre to enjoy, in the shape of 90’s female-fronted indie pop pipistrels SALAD.
Spangly-clad vocalist Marijne’s vocals were initially very quiet and
little-girl-lost-in-the-mix for starters, but improved for the lilting, discordant
“Granite Statue” and a fine, angular “Motorbike To Heaven”. I wasn’t so sure
about Marijne’s slightly inappropriate coquettish act, and the “Your Ma” banter
with the crowd felt a bit embarrassing, but they won out when they concentrated
on the music; “Diminished Clothes” was a creepy grungy beat, and “the one
you’ve been waiting for,” closer “Drink The Elixir” was upbeat and pacey, with
a tough ascending hook, Marijne’s occasionally weak vocals totally hitting the
mark for this one. Fine finish to a better than expected set overall, and nice
afterwards to have a fun and quite revealing chat with one of my 80’s guitar
heroes, Julian Cope’s former wingman and now Salad drummer Donald “Donneye”
Ross Skinner, about the arch-Drude himself!
I
was joined back there by the crew, then Matt, Martin and I headed back in at 10
as the Mondays massive dispersed. To Reds then, the large downstairs room hosting
the rest of this evening’s entertainment for us, kicking off with potentially
intriguing opener ANDY BELL SPACE STATION. Bell, now once again a mainstay of
reformed and rejuvenated 90’s fuzzed-up shoegaze heroes Ride (oh, how I’d love
for them to play here!), was flying solo tonight, delivering largely
instrumental guitar workouts accompanied by backing tapes which varied from
psychedelic backwards Byrdsian space rock to Stereolab metronomic electronica.
Don’t get me wrong, there was some haunting, atmospheric stuff on show,
overlaid by some virtuoso picking from Bell, morphing through various tempo and
mood changes, but (and call me a bluff old traditionalist if you will), I like
some tunes and song structures, and this felt like a freeform workout to
highlight Bell’s undoubted technical brilliance, so I was left in admiration,
but largely emotionally unmoved. Section a few bits off, put in a verse and
singalong hook, and we’ll talk again…! Still, we had some tuneage up next from
KINGMAKER 4AD, who delivered a considerably better set than their workmanlike
Inn On The Green effort on Saturday afternoon in 2018, and ultimately (and
surprisingly) won Band Of The Day honours from me. Sadly shorn of their
charismatic original vocalist Loz Hardy, and with the 2 guitarists/ vocalists
joining the original bass/drums battery admittedly struggling to fill his
considerable boots (particularly the younger, tousle-haired bloke, whose thin,
reedy voice regularly got overpowered in the mix), they nonetheless played a
fine, hooky selection of Kingmaker’s finest poppy, slightly fraggly sub-Wonder
Stuff moments. “Really Scrape The Sky” was a drum-dominated early anthem, “Two
Headed” a languid lurch, and the excellent “When Lucy’s Down” robust, bouncy
and hard-driving (and sung by the right vocalist!). A splendid if taciturn set
closed out with a snarling and disturbingly prescient “10 Years Asleep” which
could have easily been written about the last decade of Tory rule – don’t pretend
to care when you don’t care!
This
bumped us to the other side of midnight and another potential highlight, which
unfortunately didn’t really materialise; THE FRANK AND WALTERS, again dressed
in matching orange shirts, opened up with 40 minutes-worth of unfamiliar
material, a couple of early numbers being darker and harder edged than their
usual jaunty and quirky Irish singalong stuff and nonsense, but the rest just
frankly (sic) dull… Vocalist Paul Linehan actually apologised for playing slow
new songs (“it’s that time of night”) but that didn’t stop them rolling out one
soporific slug after another, the band’s between-song banter being much more
entertaining at this stage! Finally, they threw us tiring punters a bone with a
still low-key “Fashion Crisis Hits New York”, thankfully topped with an
insanely jolly “After All” and a bouncy, ramshackly set highlight “Walter’s
Trip”, before a racey “Michael” rounded off a frustrating set. At this point
(1.30 a.m.!) we were done, so we headed out of Reds, running into the fine
gentlemen from Abstraction Engine (Swindon’s finest band; well, at least since
Raze Rebuild split up… sorry lads!) then took a detour to a packed Centre Stage
to see if Rachel had made it out as planned to see James tribute act LAID.
Unfortunately, we wandered in during a yodelling version of possibly my least
favourite James track ever, the pseudo stadium bluster of “Born Of Frustration”
so didn’t stick around for long, and we headed back to find my dear lady wife
already tucked up, having not made it out at all!
Day
1 in the books then, and Day 2 started with our welcoming Martin to another
Shiiine On Tradition; the “Big Man Big Fry Up Breakfast”, named in honour of
our former Shiiine On companion Rich, who initiated said Saturday tradition at
our first Shiiine On in 2016. Thus fortified, we headed off for some pool party
fun at Splash Waterworld, unfortunately walking in just as the Indie disco
(Smiths, Strokes et al) turned into hi-NRG dance crap! Bah! Didn’t stay too
long, then… back to the apartment to prep for today’s musical festivities,
opting for shorts and my light kneestrap, as my dodgy knee was continuing to
play up. Good thing this whole weekend was dry, mainly sunny and unseasonably
warm! Over to Reds then for the intended CANDY OPERA set at 2, only to find the
place (and Centre Stage) had been evacuated due to a fire alarm! This seemed to
take a puzzlingly long time to sort, so Rach (who’d joined me by now) and I
grabbed deckchairs at the back of the Skyline Arena and waited. Unfortunately,
by the time the venues reopened, the crowd had largely dissipated, so it was an
embarrassingly empty Reds that we made our way back into for Candy Opera’s
late-running set at 2.30. Some wag down the front (OK, me…!) quipped that there
were more people onstage than off (!), and certainly they were likely to have
played to a bigger crowd at their impromptu set at the Hairy Dog on Thursday
night! Nonetheless, they played to the hardy souls there, rather than the
hordes who weren’t, with a clear and classy set of their soulful 80’s tinged
pop. “# Text Delete” was a galloping, Woodentopsy opener, “Tell Me When The
Lights Turn Green” was proper old school 60’s Motown blue-eyed soul, and the
relatively harder-edged and expansive “Start All Over Again” recalled Prefab
Sprout or my 80’s favourites The Big Dish. Lamenting the lack of people
(although more were arriving for the subsequent Spairs), vocalist Paul Malone
quipped, “we’re doing something different for this room – we’re playing our own
songs!” The penultimate “These Days Are Ours” was the anthemic highlight of a
set which oozed songcraft and quality, a shame so few were there to see it.
Rach
had nipped off to see a bit of Space (who by all accounts were excellent; not
my thing, but still) and I hung around outside within earshot of Spairs
subsequent Reds set. This lot, the new project of Neds Atomic Dustbin’s Jonn
Penny, sounded as dull as ditchwater, however, so I headed into the Skyline
Arena and ran into Matt and Martin as DEJA VEGA were starting their
mid-afternoon set. Having served their Shiiine On apprenticeship on the smaller
stages, this band of young bucks were finally on the big one, kicking up an
impressively palpable noise for a 3-piece, their fast and furious metronomic
proto-punky numbers attracting an increasingly large crowd. An early “Mr.
Powder” was a 100mph approximation of The Doors’ “LA Woman” and my set
highlight, and whilst much of the rest of their material was short on actual
hooky tuneage and settled into an urgent droney yet one-dimensional swampy
blast (the vocalist’s “Neu” t-shirt being quite a telling pointer to their
influences here), they at least did it with power, passion and purpose, so fair
play to them, although the last, lengthy and tempo changing number was again a
bit of a self-indulgent trial of endurance.
Therapy? Setlist not mine - photo courtesy of fellow Shiiiner Vicky Bradfield-Mullenger. Thanks Vicky!
Rach
joined us, so we had a much-needed sit down in Hotshots sports bar before
SLEEPER, on at 20 to 5. A 6-piece this time backing up svelte-looking and
iridescently be-skirted vocalist Louise Wener, with the welcome addition of
Desperate Journalist’s excellent “live” guitarist Charley Stone, their strident
flippant Britpop sounded balanced and clear from the outset; an early “What Do
I Do Now” was slightly understated but featured fine keyboard embellishments
underpinning Wener’s breathy vocals, a mid-set “Spooks” was slow-burn and
snarky, and “Vegas” louche and languid. However, things really got going after
Wener announced, “life is shit, so let’s go back to 1995,” a bullish and
buoyant “Inbetweener” getting the crowd bouncing before the coruscating synth
pulse of Blondie’s “Atomic” really took flight, rattling along apace and
including a singalong middle 8 vignette of “Love Will Tear Us Apart”! After
that, the knockabout Britpop of set closer “Sale Of The Century” was a little
anticlimactic, but this was good stuff from Lou and co. And more to follow, as
Shiiine On newbies and Irish grunting rock pigs THERAPY?, next up at 6, cranked
it up a few notches; 3 black-clad desperadoes, wandering onstage to a spaghetti
Western soundtrack as if emerging from a gunfight in the Navajo Desert, they
set their stall out early to, as vocalist Andy Cairns so eloquently put it, “make
some huge fucking noise for you!” with the rambunctious, fist pumping terrace
chant of an early “Stories” an apt agenda setter. The wiry sinuous growling
opening riff of Joy Division’s “Isolation” was an early highlight, and the
titanic choral hook to “Face The Strange” saw me lose my missus to the mosh. Oh
yes. I stayed on the periphery, house right, next to the gimp…! Ah yes, the
gimp… a Shiiiner, dressed head to toe in black lycra with a mask featuring eye-
and mouthholes only, eventually got hoisted onto his mate’s shoulders, wherein
a security chap told him not only to get down, but take the mask off as well.
Boo! Back to your cage in the basement for you, fella…!
There I am - green tshirt, arms raised, just underneath the drummer's armpit!
Before
an absorbing “Diane”, Cairns announced his drummer was staying over tonight,
“so what should he get fucked up on, gin or Buckfast?” To cheers, he announced,
“overwhelming support for Bucky!” “Teethgrinder” was a frantic, acerbic tempo
changing hurtle, then a rollicking “Potato Junkie” saw Cairns lead the crowd in
the “James Joyce is fucking my sister!” hook. But the best was saved for last;
a superb triad of the backbeat riffery of “Die Laughing” (dedicated by Cairns
to the sadly recently lost Taylor Hawkins), a rampaging “Nowhere” (preceded by
an ironic couplet of The Beatles’ “Nowhere Man”), then an even more savage
“Screamager”, rounding off an excellent and well chosen set full of utter
bangers.
We
all needed a break after that, so repaired to the apartment, as the subsequent
Reef held no interest for us! Back in the Arena for headliners ASH, though, on
at 8.45 in front of a hefty crowd. The 17th time of asking for me
for these Downpatrick purveyors of spritely punky indiepop, I was predicting,
as ever, that they’d play my favourite Ash number, “A Life Less Ordinary”, second
number in. However, they threw me a curveball by kicking off with it! So I was in
and up for jumping around to the boys’ set from the outset, yet, despite a
knee-bucklingly bouncy early “Goldfinger”, it took the surf-punk harmonies of a
rampant “Angel Intercepter” for a proper mosh to emerge. And I was in it from
the outset, “carrying my bat” to the end, an enthusiastic, boisterous,
occasionally physical yet inclusive and caring (at one point everybody stopping
to find a mosher’s glasses that had been inadvertently knocked off) body of
folks intent on rocking out and having a great time – and at one point joined
by Ash bassist Mark Hamilton during a manic “Kung Fu”, which I didn’t actually
notice at the time, as I was at the far end of the mosh forming a circle pit!
Following
a surf-tastic “Walking Barefoot” and superb, soaring “Girl From Mars”, vocalist
Tim Wheeler introduced Therapy?’s Andy Cairns onstage with a few words of
tribute to their support during Ash’s early years. Then, the incredible… Cairns
played the unmistakable opening riff to Stiff Little Fingers’ 70’s Irish
protest punk classic “Alternative Ulster” and I just grabbed the bloke nearest
to me in the mosh and screamed, “Yessssss!!!!!” in his face, before launching
myself in for an utterly incendiary, searing version of this iconic number.
Simply one of THE great Shiiine On moments, so much so, in fact, that for me
their subsequent brilliant, soaring run-through of The Undertones equally fabled
“Teenage Kicks” felt a little anticlimactic. Wow. Just… wow. A blistering “Burn
Baby Burn” rounded off The Set Of The Weekend by some considerable distance,
topped with my grabbing a rare mainstage setlist as evidence to what I’d just
witnessed!
Mainstage
festivities over, we repaired to the Centre Stage upstairs room, managing to
grab 4 chairs to plonk our tired butts on. Battered and sweat soaked, I
rehydrated and grabbed much needed breath as SACK played onstage; I was
unfamiliar with their innocuous yet tuneful indie rock, and they were the wrong
band at the wrong time for me to pay them any attention, I’m afraid! I did look
up when the vocalist (who in my dazed state reminded me of “Young Ones”-era
Alexei Sayle, cut-off sta-prest and all) brought on a “Thank You Shiiine On”
banner, but that was it! Still recovering from Ash, I was actually a little
caught out when HOUSE OF LOVE eased into their set at 11.40 with the chiming
guitar hook of a pounding “Road”, but by “Christine” I was back on the
dancefloor, enjoying the impressive building crescendo to this 80’s indie
classic. Like their Roundhouse set in 2018 (gig 1,110), however, the
performance felt understated, unobtrusive even, and, lacking the virtuoso
picking of former guitarist Terry Bickers, this wasn’t a great HOL line-up.
Also, a few too many numbers from their very low-key and frankly a bit rubbish
new album “State Of Grace” inveigled their way into the set, so this felt like
somewhat of a soporific plod, evidenced by a classic heckle from The Bloke
Behind Me; “c’mon Guy, pick it up, we’re all going to sleep!” Thankfully, as if
on cue, a ringing rendition of “Shine On” was excellent and delivered with
hitherto absent conviction, “Destroy The Heart” was a galloping delight, and “I
Don’t Know Why I Love You” urgent, yearning and the set highlight. An eerie,
understated “Love In A Car” which nonetheless built to a pounding, powerful
crescendo, rounded off a proper Curate’s Egg of a set which at least finished
strongly.
Back
to our seats then, as DERMO, the perennially youthful former lead singer of
80’s Manc baggy Second Division outfit Northside, sang his former charges’
easy, lazy druggy anthems to a backing tape. I actually liked the plaintive and
melodic “Rising Star” but found his nasal tones a bit grating after a full
hour’s set. But at least that meant we’d made it to 1.45 a.m., and STEVE
LAMACQ’s Indie Disco. I swayed about for awhile, but found the selections a bit
mainstream for my obscure tastes (how obscure? Well, I’d been rocking World Of
Twist and Parachute Men tshirts so far at Shiiine On, does that help?), and,
still aching from Ash, I turned in at 2.30. My crew gave it another hour, then
Day 2 was in the books as well!
Sunday
Day 3 dawned warm and sunny, as a particularly swift and thoroughly convivial Shiiine
On entered its last lap. A later lazy morning this time (no surprise given last
night’s late one!), then all in and out of showers before a wander along the
surprisingly sun-kissed Minehead sea front over to The Old Ship Aground at the
harbour, where a most excellent Carvery roast dinner awaited. Superb! Well set
up for the day, we then wandered back to the apartment, whence my Gigolo Aunts
tshirt got some attention from a fellow Shiiiner! Turned out said punter, Heidi
(hi, if you’re reading this!) was not only a Bostonian but a neighbour of my
lovely friend Angie (host of my gig 1,165, her 50th Birthday Bash at
Q Division of course…). Cue lots of chatting about Boston bands and mutual friends,
as my crew just left me to it…! After catching up and a brief post-lunch chill,
we were back in for my only real upsetting timing clash of the weekend;
ECHOBELLY in the Centre Stage at 3, or MARTIN CARR AND WHAT FUTURE in the arena
at 3.15? We all headed up to a well-attended Centre Stage for Echobelly for
starters, but they were late starting after a fiddly soundcheck and opened with
a dour little beast of a song. So, remembering their 2016 Shiiine set (when for
me they were the only disappointment of a stacked bill), and also figuring my very
good Boston buddy Corin Ashley might just kill me if I missed our mutual friend
Mr. Carr, Matt and I headed off to a very sparsely attended Skyline Arena.
Immediately this decision was vindicated, thanks to a quite superb second
number, the bristling buoyant powerpop of “St. Peter In Chains” which featured
a delicious underlying keyboard refrain. Great for starters, but standards were
maintained with a mid-paced, more pastoral but no less hooky “Mary Jane”, recalling
60’s psych troubadours Love.
Frankly,
Martin’s set was a revelation. I’d enjoyed his 2018 House Of Love Roundhouse
support slot (gig 1,110, again) whilst remembering it being a little more
reliant on shimmering guitar atmospherics than the naggingly hooky
psychedelia-influenced indiepop of his former charges Boo Radleys, but this set
was all about the songs. “Mainstream” was a proper Laurel Canyon 70’s singer/
songwriter ballad suiting Martin’s higher, lilting vocals, “Damocles” a
stomping and slightly menacing psych workout with nonetheless tight 2 part
harmonies from Martin and his wild haired, hefty bass compadre, and “Stand Up
And Fight”, a strident fist-punching call to arms. Martin also treated us to a
couple of Boo Radleys numbers from their meandering masterpiece “Giant Steps”;
a quite lovely solo Beatles-esque “Thinking Of Ways”, then the widescreen
sky-scraping harmonies of a brilliantly shimmering “Lazarus” (preceded by
Martin announcing, “I wrote this one 30 years ago, surprising as I’m only 26!”),
which closed out less of a set, more of a classy songwriting clinic, Martin
also shouting “Fuck The Tories!” before departing. Nice!
I’d
shouted up to Martin for his list which he generously provided, then I found a
small opening in the backstage screen near the gents loo to call over the man
himself, who was happy to take a break from packing up for a pic, signature and
brief chat. Result! Took a break at the back of the Arena then joined a
considerably larger mid-afternoon crowd for BADLY DRAWN BOY’s opening numbers.
His solo acoustic guy stuff was low-key, pastoral and a little dull early
doors, his lengthy between-song diatribes and banter proving considerably more
entertaining but not sufficient impetus for me to stick around, so I joined
Rach for a seat at the bar at the back of the Arena for a chat with a couple of
her old friends, before wandering into Hotshots just before 6 for a non-musical
highlight, my boy George Russell winning a tense and entertaining Brazilian
Grand Prix for his first Formula 1 win! Delighted with that (but not as much as
a lovely lady from Ipswich whom I sat next to for the race), I popped back into
Skyline, passing Martin on the way who was looking to escape (in his words)
“the horrible lounge music” of the mainstage SAINT ETIENNE. I dunno, the
chuntering rhythm of a louche “Nothing Can Stop Us” sounded pretty decent, and
set closer “He’s On The Phone” was a catchy pulsing synthpop tune, with
vocalist Sarah Cracknell (who’d sounded a little out of key on some intervening
numbers) conducting a call and response with the crowd. Sorry I missed the
likes of “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” and “You’re In A Bad Way” (earlier in
the set while I was rooting for George), but what I heard wasn’t that bad,
actually!
So,
on to Sunday Skyline headliners TEENAGE FANCLUB. Lots of speculation beforehand
about what their set might comprise of, particularly given the recent departure
of Gerard Love, which seemed to preclude their playing his songs such as
“Sparky’s Dream”, “Star Sign” et al. Sauntering on early at 8.40 like a
bejumpered group of geography teachers on a lunchbreak, they eased into a
clutch of newies, with “Warm Embrace” a pounding Byrdsian countrified rocker
and “Endless Arcade”, the title track of their most recent album, an
understated, slightly discordant yet lushly harmonic mid-paced groove. It was
evident, then, that their setlist was pretty much based on their early 2022 album-promoting
tour, with oldies such as an early, languid “About You” and the gorgeously
melodic “Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From” sadly few and far between. The
chunky Big Star rocker of “What You Do To Me” was a mid-set highlight, but by
then a lot of punters had voted with their feet; I don’t recall such a sparse
crowd for a Shiiine On Sunday headliner! The elongated grungy laze rocker “The
Concept” took us up to the hour, at which point the band took a break (!),
returning for an encore triad featuring a cover of The Who’s “The Kids Are
Alright” (fine, but why??) and the inevitable hypnotic slacker groove of
“Everything Flows” to close proceedings. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly
enjoyed their set, really liked some of the newer material (particularly a
later, more upbeat “I’m In Love”), and yet was frustrated and disappointed at
the paucity of more familiar works in the set and felt this a real opportunity
missed by The Fannies.
Anyway,
we decamped to an already rammed Reds for the last knockings of the weekend,
finding a load of big blokes in our way down the front and a crowd seething with
anticipation; in fact, probably more here for Wonder Stuff vocalist MILES
HUNT’s solo acoustic set than there were at the end of Teenage Fanclub in the
Skyline Arena! Miles (with whom I’d talked about Shiiine On after The Wonder
Stuff’s June Bristol gig (gig 1,229) and particularly Teenage Fanclub as
headliners, his response being, “they should just play all of
“Bandwagonesque”!”) showed he totally understood the Shiiine On brief with his
opening comments of, “I’ve got a new album out [cue chorus of good-natured
boos] but you’ll have to come to one of my solo shows in a pissy village hall
to hear that shit!” before breaking into a raucously received “Unbearable”,
pausing mid-song to ask, “the leydeez in the house!” for a blood-curdling
middle 8 scream. Thence followed a set replete with old school Stuffies
bangers; a swirling “Wish Away”, a raucous “Ruby Horse” featuring the crowd
filling in the Malc Treece descending guitar hook with “ding ding ding ding”
harmonies (“my younger self would hate this!” quipped Miles, “but that young man
got me into enough trouble…!”), a beautiful melancholic “Caught In My Shadow”
preceded by a lengthy exposition from Miles about The Stuffies early days in
Birmingham, the inevitable “Size Of A Cow” (“it’s the song that splits [our]
audience, but I’m playing it because I still like it!”) and a noisy singalong
“Welcome To the Cheap Seats”, highlights all. There was even a bouncing moshpit
by the time closer “Give Give Give Me More More More” came around, closing out
a fine, fun and all-inclusive set from a relaxed and comfortable performer who
totally gets what this Shiiine On crowd want, and delivers – every time!
Thus
endeth Shiiine On, as I wended my way back to the apartment for a final night’s
sleep, before we rustled up one last fry-up breakfast with the remainder of our
fridge contents, then bade farewell to our friends Martin and Matt and hit the road for home,
back in the ‘don just before 2 after a lunch pitstop for at M4 Leigh Delamere Services
for pasties (the Butlins on-site pasty shop having very odd opening times this
year, i.e. too early for demand!). On reflection, a slightly odd Shiiine On
musically, a few too many 90’s icons either peddling their new projects or new
material, with only Martin Carr for me maintaining his quality control with a
somewhat unexpected set of great indie powerpop tuneage. The most memorable
bands for me were those who “got” Shiiine On, understood that this was a
celebration of that 80s/90s Indie era and tailored their sets accordingly –
step forward and take a bow Kingmaker, Therapy?, Miles Hunt and especially Band
Of The Weekend Ash, who gave us one of THE definitive Shiiine On moments with
“Alternative Ulster”. Non musically, just another brilliant weekend of good
times, great company, fine food, chat and conversation, Shiiine On being about
much, much more than just the music. Fingers crossed we’ll all be back next
year to Shiiine some more!
SHERIFF’S
SHIIINE ON SELECTION
Friday
Best
– KINGMAKER 4AD
Saturday
Best
– ASH
Sunday
Best
– MILES HUNT
Overall – 1. ASH, 2. MILES
HUNT, 3. THERAPY?
Best
New Band
(and I appreciate this one is a bit of a stretch, but I didn’t know any of his
solo stuff, so there!) – MARTIN CARR AND WHAT FUTURE?
We
Can Be Heroes
– New boy MARTIN who “got” Shiiine On, and loved it; repeat offenders MATT and
RACHEL; ASH and ANDY CAIRNS for “Alternative Ulster”; MILES HUNT; MARTIN CARR; The
blokes who held me up in the ASH moshpit; THE GIMP!
