Friday 4 August 2023

1,291 THE WONDER STUFF, Ian Prowse, Southampton The 1865, Wednesday 26th July 2023

 


Quite an eventful one, this, and not all for the right reasons, but first, here’s my intro blurb…

The Wonder Stuff’s recent original album celebration odyssey reaches a conclusion with this “ID30T” tour, commemorating the 30th Anniversary release of their 4th and final first-time-round album, “Construction For The Modern Idiot”… Hot on the heels of their most commercial (and arguably successful) release, “Never Loved Elvis”, this one toned down “Elvis”’ flippant fiddly diddly indie pop tuneage just a tad, in favour of a more studious, streamlined and rockier sound evidenced on darker, more dynamic leadoff single “On The Ropes”, which remains my favourite Wonder Stuff track, and was supposed to catapult them to arena (and possibly higher) status. Unfortunately, it did the opposite, the subsequent 1994 mega “Idiot Manoeuvres” tour (on which I saw them 3 times, largely due to the presence of my favourites Gigolo Aunts as support act) sadly precipitating the band’s initial breakup later that year. Happily, though, they’re now back with us, and have of late established themselves as one of the most reliable and thrilling “live” acts of the past few years (particularly at “Shiiine On”, where main-man Miles Hunt is a regular presence, either with the band or solo). Plus, we’ve seen them do the other 3 albums, so we’re not about to miss this one, right?

 A minor wrist operation earlier today, requiring both regional (block) and general anaesthesia (more on that later!) precluded me from driving, so Rachel took the reins, the 3 of us (Logan in tow for two gigs in two nights!) picking up fellow Stuffies devotee Robynne for the usual swifter than expected drive down to the South Coast, parking up just round the corner from the venue and heading in for 7.30, just as the support took the stage. Not the Gigolo Aunts this time, sadly; however Ian Prowse, frontman of 90’s Celtic-tinged folky rockers Pele and a man who humorously (I hope!) called me a cunt at Shiine On 2017 (!) admirably stepped up, duetting with virtuoso violinist Laura McMillan (AKA the Great Macca of Stirling, according to Prowsey). Sandwiched between a couple of jaunty, fiddly-diddly Pele numbers (“Fair Blows The Wind For France” and “Fireworks”) was an excellent “My Name Is Dessie Warren”, an upbeat yet hard-hitting old school class struggle anthem reminiscent of The Men They Couldn’t Hang, plus plenty of chat and bonhomie from a voluble Prowse (including a fine tribute to tonight’s headliners; “how the hell do you open up for one of the greatest UK bands of all time?”). A splendid vignette ended with the usual barbed anti-Sun comment (“I can see by your kindly beautiful faces that none of you would stoop so low as to read that fucking rag”), before a heart-rending final singalong to “Does This Train Stop On Merseyside?”. Lovely stuff, once again!

 The Stuffies themselves were due on in short order thereafter at 8.30, however technical issues delayed their arrival until 8.45, by which the place (surely sold out on the night) was fit to burst. They opened with a jaggedly rhythmic “Change Every Lightbulb”, Miles taking the stage last and bellowing the hook through a bullhorn, then “I Wish Them All Dead” was strident, savage and utterly superb. “We’ve got the dark ones out of the way; now let’s have some fun!” quipped Milo before a boisterous “Cabin Fever” (announcing at its’ conclusion, “that should have been a hit single – you’ll be hearing THAT from me a lot tonight!”) and by this point I’m already thinking, these “Idiot” songs sound absolutely blistering “live”! How the hell is it that more of them don’t feature as part of their regular set???

 Well, apparently not everyone shared my views, according to Miles, who later referenced, “two assholes on the internet who have pissed me off,” by complaining about The Stuffies playing, “awful songs from their worst album,” on this tour. Well, bunkies, you couldn’t be more wrong! “Full Of Life” fully lived up to its title, as celebratory and life-affirming as anything on display tonight, and a frankly astonishing “On The Ropes” totally blew the doors off, with a rendition as good as I’ve ever – EVER – seen The Wonder Stuff play my favourite Wonder Stuff song. A later, poignant “Sing The Absurd” was also a surprisingly emotive highlight, before a couple of overlooked yet still excellent “B” sides rounded off the “Idiot”-centric first set splendidly, completely underlining the validity of doing this tour.

 Then things unfortunately went a little South for me… I suddenly realised that the mixture of a packed sweaty rock venue and double anaesthesia isn’t necessarily a good one, and, feeling distinctly faint, sought some fresh air, ultimately propping myself outside in the rain in the care of the doormen… Rach grabbed me some sugary drinks and I ultimately ventured back inside, but only just, and I was firmly installed on the cloakroom girl’s stool, right at the back of the venue, as The Stuffies returned for set 2 of the night. Running 20 minutes late at this point, Miles eschewed the chat to concentrate on the rock; a galloping “No For The 13th Time” was followed by the sweeping hometown paean “Caught In My Shadow” and fiddle-tastic singalong “Golden Green”, the tumbling circular violin riff of “Here Comes Everyone” was a late highlight, then The Stuffies ploughed through the encores to keep to curfew with a rambunctious “Unbearable” and shuddering “Ten Trenches Deep”. The band were clearly on absolute top form; a shame I wasn’t!

 We all met up afterwards, Logan having enjoyed himself in the mosh, and I chatted briefly with facebook friend Pete Cole outside before a difficult journey home up an utterly awash A34 and M4. Still groggy, I spent most of the next day in bed! So, an eventful one indeed, although an inescapable conclusion from tonight is that “Construction For The Modern Idiot” is a great album fully worthy of its’ place in the Wonder Stuff canon, and of being deservedly given its’ time in the spotlight on this tour. As for the rest, I’ll just have to make sure I’m fully fit for when The Stuffies doubtless smash it all up at Shiiine On in November!

1,290 THE DICKIES, Violent Hearts, The Human Error, Bristol Fleece, Tuesday 25th July 2023

 



Finally, the last of my pre-scheduled Covid-affected gigs to actually happen! Well, sort of… I’d booked tix in January 2020 for myself and Logan to see influential veteran US West Coast cartoon punks The Dickies at Bristol Fleece in July that year, only for the damn bug to get in the way, shunting the gig forward to July 2021, and then (given restrictions were still in place) to July 2022! I was rather hoping that that date would happen, but a month beforehand they cancelled their full UK tour, citing ongoing Covid effects and increasing touring costs. So I conceded defeat at this time and got tix refunds, reacting with skepticism at subsequent news that the tour was rescheduled a further year forward! However, the closer it got, the more it looked as if the dates would actually happen this time, so earlier this month I re-booked our tix, to further Logan’s musical education with some seminal goofy and thrashy helium-voiced old school punk!

Swindon’s own punk rock Queen Debby was also up for this one, so we picked her up at 6.30 for the usual entertaining chatty drive down the M4, squeezing into a parking spot just around the corner. Grabbed barrier spots house left, as is our wont, before openers The Human Error joined us early doors. A painfully young trio, this; the peroxide vocalist/ guitarist and baby Billie Joe Armstrong clone looked barely out of his teens, and his flailing, Animal from “The Muppets”-esque drummer little brother was actually still only 15! They tore through a set of embryonic and slightly unrehearsed yet entertaining pop-punk, with a smattering of aptly chosen covers (Buzzcocks’ “Fast Cars”, The Ramones’ “Chainsaw” and The Clash’s “Complete Control”) to pad it out. Awed at their situation (Billie Jr. inquiring, “how the fuck did we get on this bill?”), their youthful verve and enthusiasm carried them through. Here come the young men; decent job, boys!

 

Main support The Violent Hearts were however a different kettle of fish. Fronted by an angular, shape throwing vocalist resembling Brett from Suede and backed by a couple of strong-armed, black clad desperado guitar wielders, they were much more accomplished, with a sleazoid, riff heavy yet surprisingly hooky and melodic style somewhere between Goth-tinged post-punkers Flesh For Lulu and post-grunge Mojave Desert nomads Urge Overkill (!). “Burning” was a slower-burn yet hookily anthemic mid-set number and my favourite of the set, the subsequent amphetamine rocker “Porcelain” nicked an intro from The Ramones’ “You’re Gonna Kill That Girl”, and, by robust, air punching closer “Everything And Nothing” I was making plans to buy their CD at the merch stand afterwards. Shame I ultimately got there just as they ran out, but I found out, on discussion with vocalist James Mattock, that they’re supporting Desperate Journalist at Dareshack in October, a combination that makes much more sense. I’ll be there – as I’m there already!

The Dickies took the stage at 9 in front of the expectant gathering of punks both young and old. with bowl-haired preying mantis vocalist Leonard Graves Phillips joining us last, announcing the opener as, “the song I sang at my audition [for this band]… I thought I had the job anyway, I mean, look at me…!” before a surprisingly straight version of The Sex Pistols’ old school punk classic “Anarchy In The UK”. The subsequent opening salvo was relentless speed punk, featuring a breathless, yelping “Give It Back”, a tremendous “Nights In White Satin” (making much better sense at 1,000 mph!), a surprisingly tuneful and hooky “Fan Mail” and a soaring “Pretty Please Me”, featuring some impressive stick-work from smart, bow-tie wearing drummer Adam Gomez, before everyone paused for breath. Phillips then introduced a couple of newies which apparently tipped their hat to groundbreaking new wave all-girl act The Go-Go’s and disgraced ex glam rocker Gary Glitter! Typically perverse stuff from the good taste vacuum that is Mr. Phillips…!

 


That said, and despite the hurtling punk rock bullets blasting by, this seemed a slightly less full-on show than previous Dickies gigs; no “If Stuart Could Talk” so no penis puppet, so we made do with a brief outing for the blow-up doll during “Waterslide” and the good boy glove puppet for “Doggie Do”. Maybe their veteran status had a hand in this (Phillips quipping, “I’ll soon be 67 – this is what happens when you don’t die!”) but I’ve certainly seen them crazier, zanier, more unhinged. Don’t get me wrong, though, this was still a great cartoon punk rock gig, which was capped with set closer “Gigantor” and a brilliant encore of “Eve Of Destruction” before an inevitable “Banana Splits” brought a swift 50-minute performance to a close.


Burly guitarist Stan Lee handed me a list and I grabbed a pic with him before we headed off, home at an early 11. So, a couple of gears lower tonight, maybe, but the Dickies were nonetheless worth waiting for!