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

 

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

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

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

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

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

1,368 BOO RADLEYS, KEELEY, Bristol Exchange, Wednesday 12th February 2025

I have a very fond memory from my 30^th birthday, of hurling myself into a Portuguese villa swimming pool to the stereo accompaniment of the Boo Radleys’ newly-released single “Wake Up Boo!” Ah, that Summer… that track, and the subsequent “Wake Up!” album completed an about-turn for me with the Boos, from a less than favourable first impression, and I subsequently caught them 3 times “live” that year, as the ubiquitous “Wake Up Boo!” became The Tune That Ate Daytime Radio, and a proper millstone around the band’s neck. Nonetheless, “Wake Up!” itself is a clear, varied and melodic collection of 60’s turned 90’s Beatles-esque pop which, despite lacking the widescreen majesty of its’ predecessor “Giant Steps”, still sounds fresh today, unlike a lot of other stuff from that era (the totally wrong Beatles-referencing band went massive in the 90’s, as far as I’m concerned!). So, a tour from the recently ¾-reformed Boos celebrating that, plus the murkier and more difficult psych-pop follow-up “C’mon Kids”? OK then! 

Another reason for coming along was the addition of Bristol-domiciled shoegaze and indie student Keeley and her ubiquitous band to the bill (and indeed the whole tour!), the Keelster making an early bid for my most-seen artist of 2025, with 3 gigs already this nascent gigging year! So, an early departure was called for, following some offspring persuasion with Rach still in hospital (the price of a kebab was all it took!), and I barrelled down the M4, hitting slow traffic on the way into the city but parking opposite the Exchange just after 10 past 7. No need for such an early start, though, as Keeley were still soundchecking! Grabbed a front spot, house left, when doors eventually opened, and greeted Keeley and the boys on their way to the stage for their 7.55 start. Straight into the psych riffery of opener “Last Words” and the tough, plangent intro and intricate fretwork of “Inga Hauser” and it was evident that the extra sound checking was time well spent, as they sounded splendid and easily the best of the recent 3 shows; full, strident and purposeful, with Keeley’s low, resonant vocals again leading the charge. A quartet of new numbers formed the mid-set, “Crossing Lands” possibly my favourite tonight with its pacey, bass-driven gallop, but the thoroughly absorbing metronomic thrill-ride of “Trans Europe 18”, happily restored to the set tonight, was again my highlight. “Who was here for Desperate Journalist?” enquired bassist Lukey, playfully following up with, “what did you think of the first band?” Pretty good, Lukey mate, but much better tonight! 

Chatted with fellow front row punters Gaye and Eddie, Eddie confessing “C’mon Kids” was his favourite Boos album! So, he was buoyed when the set-lists went down onstage, tonight’s entertainment promising a scattergun selection between that and “Wake Up!”, rather than a formal start-to-finish run-through. However, and opposite to Keeley, the Boos initially struggled with the sound mix; very bass and drum dominated from my spot, and needing more of Louis’ guitar and Sice’s pure choirboy vocals, with openers “C’mon Kids” and “It’s Lulu” sadly lacking a bit of punch for me. Didn’t stop me dancing along though, and, happily, the sound improved when Sice resorted to his acoustic guitar for the languid change-of-pace “Melodies For The Deaf”. By then, they’d already dispensed with “Wake Up Boo!” and Sice had again proven an entertaining, laconic frontman, bantering with a couple of (rather annoying actually) Everton fans about tonight’s Mersey derby, and dissing the singing bush on “The Masked Singer” for demolishing the aforementioned “Wake Up Boo!”

Despite my usual preference for more upbeat numbers, The Boo Radleys tonight were better with the sound down, the hushed and plaintive “Reaching Out From Here” a prime example of this, with drummer Rob Ceika applying delicate brush strokes rather than big bashes. Sice observed, ““C’mon Kids” was a great album but a bitch to pick singles from!” before a rather lovely “Everything Is Sorrow”; “Joel” was also a mid-set highlight, its pastoral opening ceding into a libidinous psych-groove; and “Ride The Tiger” an understated delight, with a “Man Who Sold The World” opening riff leading into a loose-limbed, almost tribal vibe. But tonight’s highlight was reserved for last; after the gregarious and personable Sice thanked all and sundry, set closer “Stuck On Amber”, the more melancholic and introspective outlier on the otherwise buoyant “Wake Up!” album, was conversely the best and most euphoric and joyous sounding number of the night, the final crescendo bringing an improving set to a quite excellent conclusion.

An easy list and farewell to Eddie, before a chat with the Keeley folks at the merch stand preceded a difficult run out of Bristol, the bottom half of the M32 shut again. Bah! Still, the kids were fine, kebabs duly despatched, so a successful night all round. Boo Radleys (and Keeley)…C‘mon Up!

1,366 MIKI BERENYI TRIO, Shoun Shoun, KEELEY, Bristol Golden Lion, Thursday 30th January 2025

 

A fine double-header for me, this, albeit one which took a late call to get me to… I’d already booked tix for the April CD release show at Rough Trade for “My Shoegaze Queen”, Miki Berenyi, formerly of late 80’s jagged Muses acolytes turned 90’s shimmering pioneers and proponents of the aforementioned genre, Lush, having been intrigued and entertained both by previous sightings of her new Trio, plus the first single from said new CD, the bubbling cauldron of “8^th Deadly Sin”. Plus I’d of course seen striking Irish chanteuse Keeley Moss’ eponymous pretenders to said Shoegaze throne last time out with Desperate Journalist, and will be doing so again next month on the Boo Radleys tour! However, old gig buddy Beef texted me asking if I was up for it, so I thought, slow January, good night out pretty much guaranteed, why the heck not?! 

A slight spanner was thrown in the works with Rachel’s brief hospitalisation to fight a lung infection, however the promise of a Chinese takeaway quelled any objections from my kids, so Beef picked me up at 5.45 for a trip up Bristol’s Gloucester Road for the first time since the 80’s Tropic days (!), to a new (to me) yet old-school pub back-room venue. Compact and bijou, this; no wonder it sold out! Wouldn’t take much! Keeley’s affable bassist Lukey wandered through for a chat, then we grabbed some words with Miki on the merch stand, as well as the Keelster, plus Guy, a fellow punter who claimed to have read a lot of my blog! Nice! Eventually headed into the already well-packed venue, squirming into a spot near the front for Keeley, on at 8.15. Apparently, tech issues had prompted a late rejig to the planned set, and certainly Keeley’s usually rich, strident and determined vocals were lower in the mix than at The Exchange (Keeley asking for more mic reverb), but the sound was generally good for a small, packed and sweaty back room. The dramatic sweep of “Inga Hauser” opened, with newie “Trains And Daydreams” a hazier 60’s jangle and the excellent “Hungry For The Prize” a more overt hooky number with some strident glam guitar. The penultimate “Arrive Alive” was my set highlight, a soaring indie banger with a late 80’s Popguns feel, before the slow burn intro of the rarely played “Echo Everywhere” built to a lugubrious and absorbing reverb/ feedback-drenched outro to close out a brief, slightly different but still intriguing set from Keeley and the boys.

A brief chat with Keeley plus her friend Una, who’d travelled from Cork for the gig. Beats our little shlep down the M4 from the ‘don, hands down! Shoehorned my way back in for Shoun Shoun, next up; I recalled quite enjoying them before (gig 1,205), and initially some eerie, pseudo Gothy stripped back stuff and angular rhythm changes, recalling Siouxsie and Polly Jean’s early works, held my attention. However, a distinct lack of discernible tuneage, some violin-related tech issues, the stuffiness of the venue and the general craziness of my day (I’d had a gym PT session as well as being up the hospital with Rach) saw me head back to the bar for sanctuary. The sound eventually got sorted out for Shoun Shoun, but by then they’d lost their momentum for me, so out I stayed. Not their day today. Overlong, too… 

Beef eventually emerged for a breather, and we then wandered back in for Miki and her troops just after 10, unfortunately having to make do with a spot near the back as the place was so packed. She opened with a tale of woe, their booking agency having gone into liquidation owing them a shedload for gigs, but thanked the crowd, “for coming and buying merch” before fulsome, New Order-esque and drum-machine propelled opener “Hurricane”, followed by the touching gossamer weave of Lush oldie “For Love”, Miki’s high register vocals leading the way over a fine-sounding layered mix. The slower, more elegiac “Vertigo” was an early highlight, and the angular rhythms of newie “Gango” was overlaid with some strident jagged guitar riffs. “8^th Deadly Sin” continued it’s pulsating promise, however by then I was feeling very tired and the new material was weaving a hazy, comforting yet soporific blanket of sound around me, which coupled with the heat in the room and rigours of my day left me feeling a bit faint, so I took refuge in the bar and a chat with/ vent to a sympathetic ear belonging to esteemed Keeley drummer Andrew Paresi. Wandered back in for early Lush classic, the angular and dissonant “Baby Talk”, plus an unplanned and slightly drum-machine submerged yet welcome snarky Britpop-era “Ladykillers”, because, “you’re all fucking great!” according to our Shoegaze Queen. The feeling’ mutual, Miki, shame I couldn’t do the set full justice tonight…

Quick farewells with Keeley and her boys before we hit the road, back just after midnight after an easy run home. A slight trial of endurance for me then, this one, but despite needing to take a couple of breaks, I’m glad I squeezed this one in. Hopefully though, I’ll pay more attention to both Keeley and Miki next time!

1,365 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, Keeley, Bristol Exchange, Wednesday 15th January 2025

 

Not mine! thanks to gig buddy Julian for the pic..

Another gigging year kicks off, with familiar faces for the 9^th time of asking in goth-tinged post-punkers Desperate Journalist! Family issues had precluded my attending their Jericho Tavern one-off last October, but by then we’d already booked for this, the opening night of the tour promoting new, 5^th album “No Hero”. Another worthy addition to a pretty stellar canon, this, albeit a bit harder work initially, denser and more brooding at first listen with increased usage of textural keyboard embellishments and off-kilter rhythms, the real songcraft nonetheless shining through with repeated listens. Just as you’d expect really, from pretty much the consistently best band these shores have had to offer over the last decade or so!

Stu’s turn to drive for this one, so he picked me up about 6.15 with Andy already in situ (Mr. Fenton being a late replacement for the sadly poorly Mrs. L), then a foggy drive down saw us grind to a halt for 20 minutes at J19 thanks to a (doubtless fog-induced) prang, getting us parked in the loading bay space opposite the venue for 7.30! Yikes! However, still in good time to grab a central spot a couple of rows back for the support. And a proper bonus biscuit too, this one, as recent finds Keeley were our openers; yay! So, tall and striking vocalist (and, apparently, Bristol domiciled, as, “it’s my favourite city in the world!”) Keeley Moss led her troops on at 8, moody opener “Last Words” setting the tone for the set, inasmuch as the more layered textural shoegazey guitar effects on record were largely eschewed in the stage mix, a slight bit of echo the only overlay for Keeley to properly go to town on those intricate and undulating riffs. And so she did, her sterling fretwork, determined strident vocals and expansive Townsend-esque whirling arm gestures driving the performance along; didn’t hear a bum note all set! “Forever Froze”’s squalling intro tumbled into a Britpoppy bounce and glam-Bowie riffery; two new numbers (again referencing Keeley’s muse, murdered backpacker Inga Hauser) impressed, particularly the later “Hungry For The Prize”; and after ebullient bassist Lukey plugged their merch (“we’ll peddle our wares out there; just the sartorial and sonic kind!”), the absorbing and metronomic closer “Trans Europe 18” closed out a fine set from an increasing fave of mine.

Caught up with Matt, who’d been delayed by the fog and arrived as Keeley kicked off, then I grabbed a chat with Keeley and Lukey on the merch stand, both happily remembering me from “Shiiine On” last year, before I retook my spot in an increasingly busy front few rows. Desperate Journalist themselves were on in short order at 9, again to the industrial beat of Simple Minds’ “Theme For Great Cities”, the taped gentle drumbeat intro of new album opener “Adah” properly launching into its slightly Eastern-tinged swirling air of mystery and menace, once drummer Caz joined in with her economical yet strident style, However this initially brooding mood was well and truly skewered with a bullish and swaggering “Why Are You So Boring”, vocalist Jo already delivering the lead with forceful and impassioned authority. 

“Can I get a bit less of myself in the mix?” asked Jo after a resonant, haunting “Hollow”, deadpanning, “the ego is fragile,” before then delivering a quite astonishing vocal performance for the galloping “No Hero”, particularly the soaring choral line, thereafter asking for more of herself in the mix! The bubbling “7” was another mid-set highlight, the off-kilter rhythm ceding to a huge chorus, then “Cedars” actually got an intro from the hitherto taciturn Jo. A bit of banter then ensued (Jo asking, “it’s Wednesday, what’s it like for you?”, some wag down the front – OK, me – replying, “great, we’re seeing Desperate Journalist!” eliciting a, “right answer!” response from the singer) prior to a lengthy and meandering “Everything You Wanted”. The comment of, “stay tuned for more existential despair,” served as intro to newie “Unsympathetic”, the “live” rendition adding more bite for me, then a widescreen and affecting “Be Kind” my highlight of the night, a swaggering if sloppy “Personality Girlfriend” rounding off an as-ever swift 1 hour 15 set.

“I thought I heard someone say, enough of this macabre charade!” announced Jo, before a 3-song encore culminating in indie banger “Satellite” ended matters. Another great performance from DJ; not their best by any means, some first night bum notes prevalent, and again it felt on occasion that the band were playing within themselves, easing into the tour. But when you set your standards so high, even an average DJ gig knocks spots off most everyone else! Struck out on the list this time – I’m not about to climb onstage uninvited, that’s not how it’s done – then bade farewell to Matt and hit the road after another quick chat with Keeley and Lukey, roadworks delaying our exit from Brizzle onto the still-pea souper-clad M4. Maybe not at their absolute stellar best tonight, but any Desperate Journalist gig is still a great way to kick off the year!

1,357 THE 2024 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 15th – Sunday 17th November 2024

 

For the 8^th time in a row, November means “Shiiine On”! However, and even more so than last year, this was one I really wasn’t that keen on beforehand. Definitely more of an impending “Shiiite On” than a “Great Eight”, this, thanks to the weakest and most unimaginative bill in the festival’s history by some considerable distance; plodding dullards and indie landfill aplenty, and the very real prospect of absolutely nothing to do, musically at least, after mid-afternoon on Sunday thanks to utter crushing bores Starsailor and Embrace “headlining” the main stage. This left me, prior to the weekend at least, putting my faith in Saturday headliners Echo And The Bunnymen to deliver, which these days, even from my mid-teens “home team”, is a dangerous prospect. And further salt was rubbed into the wound with the announcement of a 10^th Anniversary special in Skegness in March, featuring highlights from the first 10 years and including such luminaries as The Wonder Stuff, Ash, Peter Hook, Boo Radleys, Glasvegas and more, thereby making our weekend’s entertainment look even more anaemic by comparison. Bah!

Oh yeah, also about Sunday; a scheduling mess-up (and IMHO a real opportunity lost by the organisers… more on that later) meant our usual Old Ship Aground lunchtime carvery, one of the highlights of the weekend, had to be cancelled at short notice. Bah! Again…

Last month’s awful news of my dear lady wife’s lung cancer diagnosis furthermore threatened to scupper the whole weekend for us; however, Rach responded very well to the first few days of her immunotherapy tablets, so we decided to go for it anyway, organising a last-minute change to a ground floor apartment and disabled platform access, and anticipating plenty of rest breaks back at the apartment. Suddenly, the prospect of a poor musical bill didn’t seem so terrible; at least Rach might have plenty of company! So, at least looking forward to a nice weekend away with Rach and good friends, we hit the road just after 10, encountering a bit of queueing traffic on the outskirts of the ‘head so meeting up with Matt on the seafront for the traditional fish’n’chips lunch slightly later than planned… although not as late as the Truro contingent, who had to turn back to get meds 2 hours into their journey! Sarah turned up with her friend Rich in tow, and her 2 chalet-mates Duncan and Rick arrived, so we all booked in, sorted wristbands in short order and settled in, before popping out to the Inn On The Green for mid-afternoon. ELECTRIC SHEEP INC. were on in front of a respectable early crowd, a young lot peddling fairly generic baggy-influenced stuff, so Matt and I wandered into the sparsely populated Skyline Arena for the last knockings of EASY. A band whose name I remember from those 90’s baggy days but whom I largely blanked on, they gave me no reason to regret that with some (again) unobtrusive generic baggy Britpoppy noise.

Popped back to the Inn, then to the benches outside for socialising. Caught up with the Abstraction Engine boys, here as punters only this year; shame! Martin and Simon arrived after their medical double-back, so we met our new Shiiiner; an amiable, softly spoken chap with a dry wit which emerged and entertained us throughout the weekend, so another welcome addition to our coterie. Glad you could join us, Simon! We all wandered in for JIM BOB at 5 to 6 in the Skyline, running into erstwhile 2000 Trees buddy Mal in the process! Jim, my former Jamie Wednesday correspondent and of course long-time Carter USM main man, tried something different this year, taking the stage with a Ramones “Gabba Gabba Hey” placard and delivering a set of Carter classics via the medium of voice and piano only. Quite a polarising idea, this, not least with the man himself (Jim commenting at one point, “this is a weird idea! What was I thinking of, just me and a piano on this enormous stage!”); when it worked, it gave a slightly different slant to the material (“Is Wrestling Fixed” taking on a jaunty Vaudevillian air, and the old JDub number “Prince In A Pauper’s Grave” inheriting a heavy, menacing feel slightly removed from its normal sea shanty march), but other tracks felt shorn of their required dynamism. Jim himself paced the stage like a latter-day Mark E Smith, firing off pithy comments in line with his sardonic lyricism (e.g. “I wanted to put on my backdrop, “Fuck Pontins”!”), and bigging up his book talk with “Steve Lurpack” and his old Carter mate Fruit Bat’s Abdoujaparov set, both tomorrow, but overall this was a curious and slightly understated set.

We took a break for tea, leaping into the pasty shop as it opened at 7, and partaking of its scalding wares (although not as lava-hot as feared) before Rach and I took advantage of the disabled platform, house left, for REVEREND AND THE MAKERS’ early evening slot to an already packed house. Hefty rabble-rousing main-man Jon McClure took the stage, promising us, “Friday night music! Good time music!” but a couple of poor and dated-sounding baggy dance numbers later, I feared that the reason the Salford Village Idiot Shaun Ryder wasn’t on this year’s bill was because he’d sent his understudy instead…! Happily, the set improved notably, an early “Heatwave” a schmaltzy but tuneful 70’s funk track, and a bouncier “Bandits” fairly decent actually, and I warmed to McClure, who clearly cared about his massive, with constant exhortations to look out for each other’s mental health. Overall, though, this strange melting-pot of slower funky and upbeat bouncy, almost ska stuff didn’t do a great deal for me, despite McClure’s tongue-in-cheek boasts that, “I’m a big deal in Sheffield – Bono level, me…!”, but the brass blare of the “Marmite” ad song, “Silence Is Talking”, got the whole arena bouncing, so it seemed I was in the minority there… 

We were however back in our usual house right spot by the pillar for headliners KULA SHAKER. Again, I’d largely blanked on them in their early 90’s pomp, finding the bits I’d heard a little dull, and thinking main man (and nepo baby before there was an actual term for it) Crispian Mills a bit of an Indian culture appropriating, pretentious pillock. From the off however, he set out to prove me wrong; “Hey Dude” was a potent psych pop opener with a very 60’s Byrds/ Love US West Coast feel, setting the tone for the set, and an early “Gaslighting” was a herky-jerky rhythmic Kinks-esque pop choon with a stream of consciousness vocal from the annoyingly slim and youthful Mills, who was a relaxed and engaging performer throughout. “It’s Friday night, it’s a full moon, we’re going to do a spiritual detox,” Mills announced before the rocking upbeat psych-blues of “Naryana”. I didn’t enjoy the Mondays’ “Hallelujah” reference during an otherwise okay actually “Tattva”, but they redeemed themselves afterwards with the powerful descending riffery of a big harmonic singalong “Hush”. “It’s been a great pleasure to play for you – I hope we don’t fuck this up…” announced Mills before closer, an unexpected and jolly run-through of John Lennon’s “Instant Karma”, rounding off a very pleasant surprise of a set, from (dare I say it) worthy Day 1 arena headliners! 

Rach, sensibly pacing herself, decided that was it for the day, so Matt and I popped up to the already-rammed Centre Stage for ECKO. A pet “Shiiine On” band, this lot (along with Deja Vega), they were sonically okay in an early 90’s psych rock/ baggy trance dance vibe, but I didn’t appreciate the Scottish vocalist’s put-on fake Mancunian sneer, or the fact they went massively over time, not clearing off until 10 past 11. So tribute act TRUE ORDER, due on at 11, didn’t make an appearance until 11.30… Having seen Hooky recently, I was in a New Order frame of mind, but this lot were terrible; I didn’t even recognise opener “True Faith” until the vocalist started singing it, badly too, I might add… By the 3^rd number, an equally savage massacring of “Perfect Kiss” sung totally out of key (I know NO’s Barney isn’t the best vocalist in the world, but he’s like Scott Walker compared to this guy), we’d had enough.

Over to Reds for SACK, then, joining Martin and Simon in the seats house right. I initially found them pretty decent in an early Inspirals/ Divine Comedy jangly groovy singalong kind of way, and was encouraged that at least they could play and sing (some decent 3 point harmonies particularly appealing to me); however they were ultimately let down by their material for me, which seemed clumsy and very average, one number featuring a piano part which sounded as if a cat was wandering up and down on the keys! A shame really, but at least they got me to the final act tonight… 

On the barriers then for the 12.45 emergence of MODERN ENGLISH, early 80’s pioneering proto-goth/ shoegaze post-punkers. I wasn’t a massive fan at the time, more in thrall to my Liverpool post-punk sound, but I remember enjoying what I’d heard back then (usually played to me by old buddy Paul Crowfoot), and also, during my more recent mid-2010’s voyage of post-punk rediscovery, enjoying delving into them (and the likes of The Sound and particularly The Chameleons) a little further via their “Life In The Gladhouse” collection. This veteran band took the stage to a “standby for danger!” tape loop, opening with the taut, urgent off kilter hurtle of “16 Days”, dapper vocalist Robbie Grey yelping off-mic like an Adam Ant or Robert Smith. This pretty much set the tone for a tense, menacing and deliciously brooding set of textural guitar-driven atmospheric post-punk, with more than a few nods to early (so, good) Cure for me. “Gathering Dust” was a building and careering thrill ride, and even the new material, such as “Long In The Tooth” from 2024’s “1 2 3 4” release, stood pat with the oldies, albeit slightly more conventional and harder edged. “Tables Turned” was a synth and bass-propelled chugger, featuring some almost virtuoso low-end manipulation from Michael Conroy, however the set was climbing inexorably up to the summit… 

The sturdy and unmistakeable strum along opening to post-punk classic “I Melt With You” was stupendous, plunging into a taut and utterly joyous hooky chorus, a stripped-back atmospheric break and a wonderfully extended and speeded up outro, ending both the Best Song and, ultimately, the Best Set of the Weekend on a none-more-higher note. Tremendous stuff – and more so because I’d been bouncing in my barrier spot alongside Irish post-punk songstress, recent facebook friend and potential musical highlight for tomorrow, Keeley Moss! A quick chat then, before I headed off to conclude Day 1! 

Day 2 dawned slowly and lazily, before we gathered for the usual Saturday “Big Man Big Breakfast” – serving 7 this time, as Sarah and friend Rich joined us later. A slight deviation from the norm thereafter; as Rach had just started her meds and wasn’t up to the usual pool party, we headed to Studio 36 to catch the last knockings of Jim Bob’s chat on his new book “Where Songs Come From”, catching the end of a witty and laconic – and very well attended, over 1,000 in! – discussion. Matt and I bought a book and got them signed by the man; then we grabbed a table for the 90’s quiz, compered by former Shed Seven drummer Alan Leach, with Matt, Rach and myself being joined by Sarah and Rich plus a couple of Sarah’s friends in “TheFookinButlins” team, which (once the quiz got going after a few technical hitches) finished a creditable 23^rd out of over 100 teams – but nowhere near top in the Best Team Name stakes, which was clearly won by “Your Dad Wanks On All Fours”! 

A 3 way band clash split us up thereafter; whilst various folks headed off to see Bentley Rhythm Ace or Kingmaker 4AD, I plonked myself front and centre on the Inn On The Green barrier for KEELEY, eponymous musical vehicle for my fellow Modern English dancer Keeley Moss. And, to return the favour, all of Modern English had turned up to see Keeley, so I grabbed a quick chat and pix with a couple of the boys, discovering bassist Michael Conroy had played on the 80’s proto-dreampop classic This Mortal Coil album, so appreciated me rocking a TMC tee-shirt today! Anyway, Keeley and her backing band kicked off promptly at 2; opener “Last Words” was a buoyant and jangly indie-pop opener, and “Inga Hauser”, second number up, featured a dark, melancholy choral hook delivered with conviction by Keeley, and accentuating the gravitas of the subject matter…

Oh yes, about that subject matter; “Inga Hauser”, like ALL of Keeley’s songs, without exception, are written for and about the eponymous Ms. Hauser, a teenage German student shockingly murdered whilst backpacking in Northern Ireland in 1988, a case which has never been solved. This understandably imbues Keeley’s material – even the more upbeat jangle-alongs – with a heavy pall of melancholy, a bleak and poignant atmosphere which conversely makes the material (for me at least) more intriguing and captivating. Add to that Keeley’s own deep and mahogany-rich low tones and insouciant onstage persona, and you’ve got a potential-loaded new post-punk/ dreampop find. “Arrive Alive” was a racier wall-of-sound shoegaze rocker recalling early Ride and my set highlight, and the absorbing metronome of “Trans Europe 18” rounded off a fascinating and evocative (if short at 6 songs only) set. 

I hung around afterwards and grabbed a chat and pics with Keeley and the band, then wandered off to Reds, bumping into lurking Wonder Stuff main man Miles Hunt on the way for a brief chat about my recent Barcelona trip to see his erstwhile 90’s support act the Gigolo Aunts (gig 1,348). Gave YOUNG KNIVES another go; they’d raised my pretentiousness hackles the last time I’d seen them, and after a couple of messy prog numbers (one of which sounded as if it was being played out of time!) and a clear feedback attempt to find the brown note (!), I was gone, their repetitive cries of “Barbarism! Barbarism!” ringing in my ears. Back to the chalet for a mid-afternoon chill for an hour or so, eventually being joined by Rach for a while before we wandered back into the Skyline Arena for the last number of THE FARM’s popular set, predictably an inclusive and roof-raising singalong to unofficial “Shiiine On” anthem “All Together Now”. 

However, t’was back up onto the Disabled Platform for Rach and myself, for the second act in the Scouse Saturday triumvirate, namely THE LIGHTNING SEEDS, on at 7.20. The only previous time I’d seen Liverpool post-punk veteran Ian Broudie’s band of wide-eyed popsters was their frustratingly tech gremlin-beset “Shiiine On” 2019 performance (gig 1,161), so I was at least hoping the sound would be kinder this time. It was – and how! Opener “Marvellous” sounded great, clear as a bell, the hook singalong, buoyant and Summery, setting the tone for a shiny, happy and perfectly delivered set of ebullient pure pop. “Ready Or Not” was a slightly harder-edged outlier to all the magic pop thrills, featuring a descending choral hook and a false finish; the Beatles-esque orchestral swell of “Perfect” saw Broudie manfully raise an octave to the higher choral vocal line; and a robust “Lucky You” saw Broudie challenge the crowd (“you’re a bit restrained…!”), prompting an “ooh ooh” singalong which elicited a fists-aloft response from the singer. 

A tune-packed, redemptive and timely performance culminated in a touching and rather lovely “Pure”, still their best number, and the “God Only Knows” soundalike intro (only just noticed that today!) to a cheesy but singalong “Three Lions”, Broudie happily leaving the stage with a broad grin and the audience’s cheers ringing in his ears this time, rather than a tech glitch-induced scowl. Nice one, lad! 

I was then back onto the floor for tonight’s headliners, greeting my crew then leaving them to it as I ventured nearer the front! Had a chat with Keeley again, as the anticipation grew (or was it just me?), and dry ice predictably swathed the stage in advance of the entrance of ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN. A band I’ve loved for over 40 years and hosts of my second ever gig, back in December 1981, but a band whom these days stand or fall “live” on the whims and mood swings of main man and “voice” Ian McCulloch. Mac’s longtime oppo Will Sargent’s virtuoso guitar may shimmer, swoop and weep, the young band may ably back them up musically, but if Mac’s head’s not in the game (or if his nose has been in the drinks cabinet, or worse, in the powder beforehand), this could be a car crash…

Overall, I was pleased to report that it was, well, okay… Opener “Going Up” crept absorbingly in with its’ air of menace and mystery, then Mac’s vocal was stripped bare for all to hear; low, moody, understated, a little throaty and raspy, but definitely Mac. The backbeat drums of “All That Jazz” followed, Mac delivering a clipped verse vocal before Will’s strafing riffery bounced off the tent ceiling, and an early “Rescue” was relaxed, plangent and singalong. However, there had clearly been some, erm, “imbibing” beforehand on Mac’s part, although at least he was a happy drunk tonight, rambling on about Al Pacino’s new baby, Arne Slot and VAR, and bigging his material up as expected, introducing a tremendous, careering “Over The Wall” with, “this one is a bit mad, sort of neo-psychedelic,”, commenting, “I’m not going to boast but this feels great,” prior to the Doors-like keyboard-fuelled, loose-limbed “Bedbugs And Ballyhoo”, and proclaiming, “this next one is brilliant,” before “The Cutter”. Because, well, it was. So. 

Not without its faults, this, though; the band were constantly enveloped in dry ice and the side-screens were off, so they were often impossible to make out through the murk, the set selection was again one for the purists rather than the casual fan (generally fine for me, but fine for Shiiine? Debateable…) and even despite pacing his voice and making infrequent use of the higher octaves, Mac’s vocals became increasingly ragged towards the end, the singer making increasing use of the tactic of muting the band to allow the devoted down the front to fill in on vocals, a rather divisive move which earned a fair bit of criticism from my crew afterwards. I guess I was just pleased that I wasn’t disappointed, which I appreciate may be damning Mac and The Bunnymen with faint praise, but these days, you never know…

A stripped back “Killing Moon” rounded off the “set”, after which the band took a pause before returning for “Lips Like Sugar”, which finally saw Mac’s voice soar during the choral hook. Caught up with the crew via the mixing desk, the excellent arena sound-guy making good on his promise beforehand to save me a list, then we headed back to the chalet for a cuppa! Rach then decided that was her limit for the day, so it was Matt, Martin, Simon and myself who headed back in, for a Saturday night revelation… 

I’d seen David Lewis Gedge’s frantic jangly C86 survivors THE WEDDING PRESENT a few times in the last 10 years or so, once on a Wonder Stuff undercard in 2016 (gig 981) and then at “Shiiine On” in 2017 and 2019, and, the opening salvo of that 2017 set aside, had been mostly disappointed, finding the choppy guitar onslaught of legend largely absent, and both material and performance understated, turgid, samey, dated and really rather dull. So I was semi persuaded, semi press-ganged by the boys to give the Weddoes another chance, but honestly I was expecting to give them 3 numbers, then piss off and leave them to it.

Hoo boy, was I wrong, or what? The snowy-topped Gedge led his troops onstage at 11.30 to a rapturous reception from an utterly rammed Centre Stage, cantering into the strident descending riff of opener “A Million Miles”, overlaying this lovelorn paean with his low stentorian growl, and from the off it sounded great, purposeful, big, fulsome, guitar-led, and with a dynamism, conviction and cutting edge sadly lacking for oh so long. The edgy slow/ fast “Don’t Talk Just Kiss” saw Gedge bent double, sawing at his battered guitar for all he was worth, recalling visions of the first time I saw them supporting The Mighty Lemon Drops in 1986 (gig 58) and being utterly astonished by his wrist dexterity! Even early newie “I Am Not Going To Fall In Love With You” was imbued with power and purpose, the mosh causing the sprung floor to bounce along in time. Who is this band, and where have they been since the 80’s??! 

Yup, that cutting edge restored, The Weddoes were easily band of the day for me and a close runner-up to Modern English for the overall weekend honours. “Nobody’s Twisting Your Arm” was an unexpected huge singalong, segueing into a powerful, bouncy “Kennedy”, then the yearning ascending chorus of “My Favourite Dress” was a set highlight, until the inevitable finale of a breathless, roaring and hurtling “Brassneck”. Just a great set, and I wasn’t the only one so surprised, as we discussed this triumphant and restorative set with a vindicated Martin (who’d had no doubt), before I headed back for the night. 

So, onto day 3 of a swift and, happily, very surprising “Shiiine On”, musically at least! Another fried breakfast today, as, as previously mentioned, our usual Sunday carvery was postponed after the line-up timing announcement last week, given that the only 3 acts I/we were interested in today were all on in Centre Stage, consecutively from lunchtime! Bah! Anyhoops, off we wandered after brekky, through the drizzle to the first of the three… MAT FLINT, 90’s genre-hopping guitar roustabout but best known, by me at least, as frontman for sadly short-lived melodic shoegaze/ dreampoppers Revolver, had actually initially been scheduled to play the Inn On The Green, but was bumped up (?) to the 12.45 opening slot for Centre Stage Sunday, following the announcement that he intended to play a full Revolver set with a new 3-piece band. So, we headed in 10 minutes beforehand, only to find the place utterly deserted! Yikes! 

Nonetheless, Matt and I took barrier spots, along with a mere dozen or so bleary-eyed interested parties, for Mat’s entrance. He and the band opened with Revolver’s best number, the brilliant “Crimson”, a regular handover number for me during my 1991 Lev DJ-ing days (finishing my stint and asking DJ partner The Big Man to start his sesh with it, so I could head down and dance to it!). Slightly thin, echoey and understandably understated as Mat and the band bedded themselves into the set, it was nonetheless great to hear it again after so long. “Drowning Inside” was an early, eerie textural affair, Mat jumping on the pedals with glee to overlay his lilting, high-pitched vocals, and a later “Cradle Snatch” was an elongated and atmospheric psych workout. Revolver’s best-known number, the debut “Heaven Sent An Angel” was a lengthy, loose-limbed piece of absorbing loveliness, and the off-kilter tumbling drums and discordant psych of “Venice” closed out a slightly uneven, taciturn but welcome slight return from Mat… and Revolver? 

I chatted with Mat’s charming wife Emma briefly afterwards, as Mat responded to my request for a set list by writing me one out especially! Chap! Kept my spot for “live” favourites of mine (and my son Logan’s!), 80’s folk/ punk class warrior veterans yet “Shiiine On” virgins THE MEN THEY COULDN’T HANG, due next up at 10 to 2. I’d actually chatted with TMTCH mainstay Paul Simmonds about “Shiiine On” at their recent triumphant 40^th Anniversary gig at the Thekla (gig 1,345), trying to allay his misgivings about their being booked to play what seemed to them prima facae a Madchester/ Britpop Festy by saying it’s about all 80s-90s indie, you’ll do great, if you’re on late on Saturday night or something like that it’ll be a raucous drunken singalong encapsulating the spirit of the band etc. etc… to which he then replied, “we’re on Sunday lunchtime…” I mean, “Shiiine On” organisers, WTAF???

Making it a bit worse was a lengthy, fiddly and seemingly unnecessary backline soundcheck, delaying their start until 2 in front of a more respectable (if still no more than half full) dance floor. “We’re going to liven things up a bit!” announced main man Phil “Swill” Odgers, opening with the rambunctious if a little low-key fiddle-diddle of “Raising Hell”. A more robust “Going Back To Coventry” got me bouncing down the front, after which Swill remarked about being up all night (“so it’s late for us!”) then called for a sing-along to a bolshy, anthemic “Ghosts Of Cable Street”, pointing me out and saying, “I know you’ll sing!” 

So sing I did, giving my pipes a proper workout (my usual TMTCH duetting partner Logan being absent from “Shiiine On”, I had to sing for two!) as The Men maintained their jolly fun, inclusive folky punky form from that Thekla gig, occasionally going slightly off-piste with the set selection (the sea shanty feel of “The Lion And The Unicorn” and a slow-burn “Silver Gun” being unexpected inclusions) but bringing it right back with a poignant and emotive “Green Fields Of France”, particularly the haunting, stripped back lump-in-the-throat 4^th verse. “Smugglers” enlivened the mood thereafter with its’ soaring terrace chant chorus, then the subsequent Miners’ Strike story of “Shirt Of Blue” was moody and menacing, and “Island In The Rain” a touching ballad featuring some virtuoso sawing from veteran violinist Bobby Valentino (Swill announcing beforehand, “[this one is] Bobby’s favourite – and he works us hard!”). Damn that lengthy soundcheck, as they had to cut “Colours” from the end of the set at short notice, but absolutely nailed a brilliant and breathless “Ironmasters” to conclude a joyfully singalong and, ultimately, well-attended and well-received set. See, you do belong here at “Shiiine On”, Simmo!

I’d been bouncing and singing along, so, hoarse and a little knee-sore, I joined the crew in their seats, house left at the edge of the dancefloor, for “Shiiine On” regular MILES HUNT, this time doing the solo thang instead of being backed by the full Wonder Stuff line-up, and again bafflingly on mid-afternoon, 10 past 3 in this instance. It’s as if the organisers didn’t notice just how well his last solo set (late Sunday evening in Reds and following a disappointingly received Teenage Fanclub headliner slot) went down, seeing out “Shiiine On” 2022 (gig 1,253) on a real inclusive singalong high. Nuts. Just nuts. Still, the mid-afternoon slot didn’t seem to dampen Miles’ bullish, buoyant mood, immediately giving us, “fair warning, I’m going to be calling for some audience participation,” thereafter noting, “I know my 20-year-old self would hate my 58-year-old self [for] sitting on a stool encouraging singalongs, but I like pissing that guy off!”

As expected, this was another jolly, inclusive and entertaining showing by a man totally at ease with himself and his history, and with the demands of the “Shiiine On” crowd. Give them what they want, and Miles is happy to do so, delving gleefully through the Wonder Stuff back catalogue for this set, and augmenting the selections with stories and vignettes from his near-40 years (!) in rock. So a couple of stories of near-interactions with Bob Dylan were interspersed into a meandering “Caught In My Shadow”; “Here Comes Everyone” followed a story about a brief fling during a US tour, and trying to subsequently dump his girlfriend in letter form; and “Maybe” saw Miles assuring the crowd that he means no disrespect to “the great Michael Stipe”, despite the possibly disparaging reference in said song’s lyric. 

Ploughing past the hour mark (“I hate the pantomime of the encore; it’s patronising on both sides…”), Milo rounded off with a few more upbeat singalong Stuffies cuts in “No For The 13^th Time”, “Don’t Let Me Down, Gently” and, following an audience vote, “Size Of A Cow” (“the no’s have it, but fuck you, I’m in charge!”), before finishing with “Give Give Give Me More More More” and a thought of how lucky we are to still be here, which hit home with us, and Miles personally too, given the recent loss of his beloved dog The Winkster. “Thank you for propping me up,” was the man’s comment, but the feeling as ever is mutual.

Then that was that! Given the swathes of Indie landfill subsequently on the Skyline stage, the musical element of our “Shiiine On” was done by half four on Sunday afternoon! We grabbed noodle tea from Chopstix and headed back to the apartment for the 5pm England game. Rach and Sarah drifted back into the arena rather than watch the footy, so I wandered back in to find them, running into old Level 3 friends Sara and Sharon and introducing them to Milo, hanging out in the Inn On The Green. Eventually found Rach and Sarah, hiding in the arena back bar from STARSAILOR’s admittedly proficiently delivered but to my ears oh-so-dull plodding material. We eventually headed back to the apartment where we all gathered for some fun and raucous card games, especially “Spoons”! Much more fun than Embrace, as far as I'm concerned, anyway!

Come 10 o’clock, and Matt and I popped back briefly to a spottily attended Centre Stage to catch a bit of young bucks THE RATS. Musically they were okayish in (yet again) a generic baggy way, but they soon put me in mind of a poor-man’s Stereo MCs, and the vocalist’s grating tones were hurting my head, so we headed back in short order, done for the night. Packed up and (eventually) gathered everyone together the next morning, popping in to book for next year and bid farewells to Martin and Simon (Matt having left earlier) before heading off, dropping Sarah off in Bristol and getting back to the ‘don just after 2. Another excellent weekend, with some surprising bonuses, music-wise, and great company and fun times during those musical black holes. “Shiiite On”? On reflection, that was harsh… it was a “Great Eight” after all!

 

SHERIFF’S SHIIINE ON SELECTION

Friday Best – MODERN ENGLISH

Saturday Best – THE WEDDING PRESENT

Sunday Best – THE MEN THEY COULDN’T HANG

Overall – 1. MODERN ENGLISH, 2 THE WEDDING PRESENT, 3. THE MEN THEY COULDN’T HANG, 4. MILES HUNT, 5. KEELEY 

Best New Band – KEELEY! Well, first time I’ve seen them, so I’m counting that…

We Can Be Heroes – MY CREW as usual; kudos to new guy Simon! RACHEL for sensibly pacing herself. The ubiquitous KEELEY MOSS for being friendly and chatty, as well as a great performer. MILES HUNT, ditto actually. THE SOUND GUY for sorting me 3 lists. MAT FLINT for writing me one!