Showing posts with label Miki Berenyi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miki Berenyi. Show all posts

Monday, 7 April 2025

1,380 MIKI BERENYI TRIO, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Sunday 6th April 2025

 

Another Rough Trade early evening shindig, this one, and a chance to rectify a recent wrong by actually paying (more) attention this time… I’d very recently encountered “My Shoegaze Queen”, ethereal-voiced yet sweary sailor-mouthed former Lush frontperson Miki Berenyi, fronting her new atmospheric trio in Bristol on a late call at the end of January (gig 1,366), but the circumstances of the day had meant my head wasn’t fully in the game, and I actually dipped out of the Golden Lion’s busy back room venue for half of their nonetheless fine and resonant set. No such excuses this time, though, as this was another “meet and greet” with the band, celebrating the release of their debut full-length, “Tripla”, which by all accounts not only is a pretty decent piece of work according to early reviews, but would also likely be played in full tonight…

So, an early evening drive down a sunny M4 got me parked up about 7, to join a smattering of folk in for a relatively quiet Sunday evening event. Joined recent gig buddy Guy from Bournemouth (!) down the front for a chat about last weekend’s Wedding Present gig, whilst Miki and her back-up boys set up. Miki then announced the reason for her tardiness onstage, saying to Guy, “I remembered, I forgot your brownies! Fuck, the brownies!”, to which guitarist and partner Moose replied, “fuck the brownies!” Punctuation is so important…

Anyhoops, on to the music… this early evening, Miki Berenyi and her trio delivered another understated but beguiling and dreamy performance, those familiar aspects of Lush such as shimmering, dreamlike pedal effects, pulsing, often off-kilter beats (supplied of course by backing loops) and of course Miki’s own perfectly enunciated, high register vocals in full force and effect, weaving a heavy, intoxicating and almost trancey atmosphere. It’s not quite rock’n’roll but I still like it… “Vertigo”s slow pitter patter and moody, “breathe out, breathe in,” hook was a dreamy note of meandering melancholy; “Gango”’s backbeat percussive pattern and herky-jerky beat recalled early Talking Heads (not the only number to do so tonight) and required a more assertive and strident vocal from Miki, eliciting a remark of, “that’s my exercise for the day, I need a fucking sit down now!”; and “Kinch” featured a lovely minor chord choral descent. Throughout all this, our Shoegaze Queen was her usual affable and sardonic self, offering an over-emphasised, “thank yewwww!” after every number, bantering with the front rows about their Sunday night drinking (Miki’s remark of, “I wasn’t going to [drink] today… not because of god…” eliciting a murmured, “sounds a bit goddy to me…” from bassist Oliver) and relating a tale of a previous night’s punter asking if a later “Manu” was called Man U (!), prompting a punter (a Leeds fan) to advocate for a punching for the offender! 

The robust New Order-esque synth beat and infectious undulating repetitive hook of “8th Deadly Sin” was again my set highlight as well as an early candidate for my “Best of 2025” compo CD, although set “closer” “Big I Am” was a buoyant close runner up with its “ba ba ba” harmonies; then on top of the out-of-sequence full album run through, old Lush number “Undertow” (“we really enjoy playing this so we may record it…” commented Miki) fit snugly onto the end, demonstrating the apples haven’t really fallen far from the tree. 

I’d taken a late-set break but still managed to squirm forward to be in prime position for Miki’s list, provided by bassist Oliver, then joined the back of the queue with Guy, eventually greeting Miki with “my Queen!” to her amusement and having a brief chat about the returning My Bloody Valentine and their Wembley gig in November. “I think we’ll be able to hear it from our house!” she deadpanned to Moose at the prospect. Farewells to Guy and an economy drive home, back in the ‘don for half nine (!). Another successful Rough Trade evening, then, a promising new Miki album to listen to, and I’m glad I got to pay more attention this evening!

Saturday, 1 February 2025

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 “8th 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. “8th 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!

Tuesday, 28 November 2023

1,304 THE 2023 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 17th – Sunday 19th November 2023

 

For the 7th time in a row, it’s November, so it must be time to “Shiiine”! Once again we prepare to immerse ourselves in the annual weekend celebrating the 80’s/ 90’s/2000’s UK indie scene in its various guises, but this time there was a slight element of trepidation and even reluctance on my part, due to 3 factors. Firstly, the bill; a couple of intriguing late 90’s reunions aside, it was solid enough but a little unspectacular for me, lacking the real “wow” factor of, say, a Bunnymen, Chameleons or Midway Still level of band who could really be potential highlights – well, The Wonder Stuff aside, but then they or singer Miles Hunt play every year anyway, right? Secondly, the weather; heavy rain and storms had already damaged much of the site, resulting in accommodation being cancelled for about 300 or so punters following an anxious wait, and further heavy storms were also forecast over the weekend… yuck! And finally, one of my 3 all-time favourite bands, Gigolo Aunts, announced a trio of reunion dates in New York and Boston supporting Letters To Cleo on their annual US East Coast Thanksgiving jaunt, completely clashing with “Shiiine On” which itself was a weekend later this year! Bollocks! So, I was prepared for a soggy weekend – in Minehead in body, but with a part of my soul in “The Hub”… 

Nonetheless, I put aside concerns and we picked up Rachel’s friend Sarah, a first time “Shiiiner” who’d booked separate accommodation, and we hit the road for a decent run down, bumping into Martin and his friend (and fellow first timer) Jon at an impromptu pitstop at Minehead’s Tesco. No breakfast shop today as we’d all bought fixings down, for reasons which will quickly become apparent, however the fish and chip seafront meal tradition was observed as usual, Matt arriving as we ordered. After Rachel’s friends Duncan and Rick arrived (the boys staying with Sarah after their own chalets fell victim to the storms), our convoy parked up after picking up our welcome packs from the gates, then we grabbed our wristbands and were ready to go! No time to unpack, though, as ABSTRACTION ENGINE awaited us at Inn On The Green at 1.45… hence no Tesco run! Swindon’s finest are regular punters here, and this time had inveigled themselves onto the bill, albeit at an indecently early time. Thankfully, we weren’t the only ones up for some early rock, and a respectable crowd greeted vocalist David and the boys as they, bedecked in fluffy jackets, eased into the plaintive slow build of opener “Placeholder”. By the upbeat Summery britpop vibe of “What Would You Say”, however, they were into their stride, and the harder-edged 70’s rocker “Dreamer” and best-of-set “Walk Through Walls”, a haunting yet propulsive rocker, formed an impressive-sounding mid-set triple. The pastoral Wheat-like “Shine” fittingly rounded off an early yet worthy and well-received inclusion for the boys on the “Shiiine” bill – a bit further up next year, maybe? 

Greeted the boys as they unpacked, then the crew departed to check out other stuff and I stayed for THE MALAKITES, a painfully young looking bunch whose opening psych-pop salvo was intriguing, but as they veered into more bluesy trad-Britpop sounding stuff, a little too close to the likes of Ocean Colour Snore for my liking, I lost interest and headed back to the apartment (as far back this year as it’s possible to be without caravanning!) to unpack. The crew had done the same, so we chilled awhile, before our first jaunt into the Skyline Arena. A respectable crowd awaited JESUS JONES, on slightly late at 4.35, and straight into the upbeat techno-indie of “Zeroes And Ones”, the svelte Mike Edwards putting in an energetic shift as ever (though not as energetic as his crazed keyboardist!) yet initially sounding a little lost in the mix. We need more Mike on the mike! Thankfully, by the clattering rhythms of “Bring It On Down”, the sound was more balanced, and the hectic dynamism of “Never Enough” was my set highlight. “The Devil You Know” – “from the band’s but not the public’s favourite album,” remarked a rather bitter Edwards – was a bit dull really (the public are always right!!), yet the understated lugubrious sway of “Right Here Right Now” got a good singalong, so fair play. The barking jagged rhythm of closer “Info Freako”, accompanied by lurid colourful film backdrops, rounded off a solid and rabble-rousing yet a little one-dimensional set. 

JIM BOB was up next in short order, the former Carter USM man thankfully backed by his Hoodrats, and playing a popular and bright set largely based on recent album “Thanks For Reaching Out”, yet delving regularly into his former band’s canon. I’d seen him recently at Bristol’s Rough Trade (gig 1,287), so enjoyed the likes of the melodic, inclusive title track and sarky, snarky punk rock hurtle “Sebastian’s On A Ridealong”. I could have done without the unannounced cover of “Geno” (a song I never liked anyway) but the punkish “Stuff The Jubilee”, with suitable punnish stream of consciousness lyrics, was a subsequent highlight. The sinister sea shanty paean “Prince In A Pauper’s Grave” (which, I say every time, I saw JB’s old band Jamie Wednesday do in 1987 – gig 78, folks!) was stark and eerie as ever, yet the subsequent “Angel Strike!”, dour, dark and stunningly melancholic, was easily my set highlight. Ye Gods, that’s a song! The rambunctious “Bloodsport For All” (preceded by an affable, deadpan Jim introducing the band, including impressive bassist Lindsay Scott, then himself as “Dirk Diggler”!) capped an overall fine set from my old Jamie Wednesday correspondent. Great to see him in fine fettle again!

My knee was barking by now, so I took a break in Hotshots, sharing a table and a chat with Joanne and Nick from Oxford, before Rach joined us as we sheltered from the inevitable onstage car-crash that is Shaun Ryder, this time with Black Grape. However, we were of course all in for the headliners; Miles Hunt bounded onstage at the appointed hour in his cheesy game show compere alter-ego, declaiming this evening’s entertainment (“some songs from The Groove Machine! (cheers) Some songs from Hup! (more cheers)” etc.) before announcing, “to do that, I’m gonna need me a band!” THE WONDER STUFF then joined Miles onstage, kicking off with the coruscating circular riff of the brilliant “Feet To The Flames”. Great start, but Milo then deadpanned to guitarist and loyal wingman Malc Treece, “d’you want to play them something they like, Malc?”, before the fiddle-driven build of “Mission Drive” ignited the crowd.

 Thence followed a typical Wonder Stuff “Shiiine On” set; fully inclusive, perfectly executed, brilliantly played, melodic, roof-raisingly singalong, fun psych/folk tinged indie rock of the first water, comfortably Set Of The Weekend… you know, the usual from Milo and crew! Unlike quite a few who pass through this Fest, Miles totally “gets” “Shiiine On”, gives the people what they want, and is rewarded with overflowing bonhomie and huge ovations throughout. The melancholic yet uplifting “Caught In My Shadow” was an early highlight, “Red Berry Joy Town” was driving and robust, and the superb “On The Ropes” saw me pile down the front, joining an ebullient if a little boisterous mosh. “Golden Green” was its’ usual singalong hoedown, Miles challenging us to “keep that singalong going” for the fairground ride of “Size Of A Cow”. Props from the singer to Janice Long for championing the band at their inception, before “Unbearable”, then the irrepressible bounce of “Give Give Give Me More More More” saw the band take a breather, returning for an encore which Miles announced as “[one] we’ve learned especially for you fuckers; and we might not play it again ever!”… only their cheesy Vic & Bob No. 1 hit “Dizzy”! A proper “check your cool at the door” moment, this was a fun singalong and a “Shiiine” highlight. The more typical “Ruby Horse”, the slightly-delic swirl of “Wish Away” and the usual thunderous “Ten Trenches Deep” rounded off another quite brilliant “Shiiine On” Wonder Stuff set. Familiarity in this instance definitely NOT breeding contempt; on this form I’d have them headline every year! 

A breather and quick bite was then called for, before I split from my Clone Roses-bound crew, I was up for seeing MIKI BERENYI TRIO in Reds. The Queen of Shoegaze joined us at 11.15 with a deadpan, “oh good, you’re all still awake then, that’s fucking great!”, easing into plaintive opener “Light From A Dead Star”, her high register vocals a feature. “I haven’t had a drink yet! I’ll be allowed when the Boo Radleys are on,” she intoned brightly as the initial set drifted hazily by. Ironically, “Suzanne”, a Moose number presumably in deference to her partner and guitarist “Moose” McKillop, was a mid-set highlight with a galloping, almost Western movie soundtrack feel, and the plangent atmospheric march of “Love At First Sight” was also rather splendid. However, a full hour seemed a little wearing, particularly given Miki’s taciturn nature and the band’s stripped-back set-up, and the dramatic, discordant closer “Baby Talk” was not only the best of set, but quite welcome after a variable performance, albeit one with many highlights. 

I took a wander outside and spotted Miles Hunt outside Reds, once again holding court and generously giving his time to anyone who asked. I bought the man a drink and we had a brief chat about those pesky Gigolo Aunts before I wandered back in for THE BOO RADLEYS at 12.45. Sans former songwriter Martin Carr (who’d impressed last year with a Sunday afternoon solo set), I was still looking forward to them as they’d totally smashed it with a “Giant Steps”-centric showing in Reading earlier this year (gig 1,283), and the alarm strafe and descending riff of said album’s opener “I Hang Suspended” kicked off the set in some style, buoyant vocalist Sice once again in fantasy band camp, sporting a grin as wide as the Mersey throughout, and greeting us with a cheerful “good evening everyone! It’s way past my bedtime!” The breezy C86 strumalong of “Wish I Was Skinny” was an early highlight, and the descending poppy hook of the 60’s-esque “Find The Answer Within” provided a moment of redemption for the singer; “[when I played here solo] I totally fucked this one up!” 


Boo Radleys were great again, giving the lie to their oft-variable “live” reputation, picking pure upbeat indiepop classics from the breadth of their canon. “Barney And Me” was an irresistibly groovy layered singalong, the off-kilter “Lazy Day” (“from our shoegaze album!”) a fuzzed-up delight, and newie “How Was I To Know” (“we’re chucking in [this] new one cos it’s a fucking banger!” boasted Sice) an upbeat, robust rocker with a big hook. “Lazarus”, inevitably, was the widescreen, sky-scraping set highlight, and the inevitable jaunty “Wake Up Boo”, Sice conducting the crowd singalong, was actually a fine way to send us all off to bed, to end a happy, bouncy set and the best day of the weekend, musically at least! 

Shiiine Saturday started as Shiiine Saturday’s often do; a lazy lie-in, a “Big Man” big fried breakfast, then a late trip to the pool party for some lazy river action and an impromptu crazy game of keepie-up with a beach ball! A quick turn-around at the apartment as I was up for IAN PROWSE AND AMSTERDAM, on at 10 to 2 in Centre Stage (not Reds, as I quickly found out when I erroneously went there first!). Never mind, in in time to grab a bit of barrier as the man emerged, kick-starting his set with “Taking On The World”, an empowering piece of chunky, Frank Turner-esque folky pop with a punk attitude and sensibility, setting the tone for an inclusive, rabble-rousing, politically motivated yet never hectoring set of fine rebel music, which doubtless would have had The Men They Couldn’t Hang’s late agent provocateur Stefan Cush staring down in approval. An upbeat “Megalomania” had tinges of mid-period XTC; an affecting “Dessie Warren” was an inspirational folk number preceded by a preamble about the man and the cry of, “Fuck The Tories!”; and “Name And Number” featured a lengthy – and funny! – interlude about Prowse meeting Freddy Mercury in a vision, who bequeathed him the band for “Shiiine On”! A rollicking good set ended with a quite beautiful “Does This Train Stop On Merseyside” and the usual anti-“Sun” newspaper rant from a bullish Prowse. Cracking stuff again from the man! 

My crew then stayed in for Mark Chadwick; I’m not a Levellers fan, so I left on the first note and headed to a quiet Inn On The Green for the mid-afternoon CANDY OPERA set. A shorter than planned performance, this, due to bassist Frank Mahon not feeling well. Mahon nonetheless struggled on gamely, as “See It Through Your Eyes” was a shimmering slow burn into a big hooky 80’s-tinged chorus, an unplanned “Left Right Centre” had a distinctive Motown blue eyed soul feel, and “#Text Delete” galloped along with a rootsy rockabilly vibe, powered by some resonant guitar licks. After the upbeat 70‘s NYC Lou Reed vibe of “Crash”, affable badger-haired vocalist Paul Malone introduced the band, including 16 year old (!) drummer Sonny (“we’ve had to lie about his age!” quipped Malone). The excellent, widescreen and crafted “These Days Are Ours” and darker “Enemy”, which featured Malone going all McCulloch/ Burgess on us by throwing in lyrical vignettes from The Beatles, Bowie and Joy Division, rounded off another fine set from these “Shiiine On” staples. As with the Stuffies, for my money they’re welcome every year!

 

A pic and chat with a friendly Mr. Malone about Liverpool rock then preceded a (thankfully dry, the forecast showers holding off for now) wander back to Sarah’s apartment where Rach was hanging out. Enjoyed some down-time, chat and snacks before wandering back to the Skyline Arena and hooking up with the rest of the crew for “Shiiine” debutants TERRORVISION, a band who largely passed me by in the 90’s, but who were clearly this year’s nomination for the “Grunting Rock Pig” slot ably filled by the likes of Midway Still and Therapy? in previous “Shiiine”s. An early “Pretend Best Friend” was overt and shouty noisy post-grunge rock with a slight hint of Kiss-like 80’s hair metal, setting the tone for a dynamic set. Not just one trick ponies, however, this lot; “Don’t Go” featured a fine descending outro hook reminiscent of Bowie’s “All The Young Dudes”, and “American TV” was a slightly uncomfortable meld of glam stomp and 90’s rap. All eyes however were on bearded Sami Zayn lookalike singer Tony Wright, a man who not only lifted the performance above its occasionally average material with his all action, dynamic performance, but also who, in his bright pink suit (borrowing my son’s prom suit style!) with tight tight trousers, clearly dresses to the left… or right… or… (it was all rather hypnotic really…!) 90’s Level 3 floor-filler “Oblivion” was the highlight of an overall pretty decent – and definitely eye-catching! – set. 

A wander out of the arena to grab a pasty and a sit-down on a bench in the walkway; despite this year’s festival being slightly under capacity due to the cancellations (which, due to the number of chalets and apartments being cordoned off, might have been more than the mooted 300…), there was still a paucity of seats, the rear-arena deckchairs having mysteriously gone missing as well. Note for next time, “Shiiine” – we’re not getting any younger, we all need to sit down once in a while! Anyway, thus (slightly) revived, I decided to subject myself again to NEDS ATOMIC DUSTBIN’s tender mercies. A band I’ve never gotten on with, and once again they did nothing to change my view. This just felt like a relentless throbbing and thudding bass-driven and monotone trial of endurance, one song merging into the next like so much mulch, and little in the way of vocals to distinguish the songs (vocalist and charisma-free zone Jon Penney’s dull vocals being submerged in the mix for me as well). “Happy”s change of pace and “Grey Cells Green”s slashing backbeat verse build-up to a racey hooky chorus were far and away their best numbers, also followed by the popular “Kill Your Television”. If they’d have just played those 3, I’d have been a happy boy (!), but then my crew mostly thought they were ace, so what the fuck do I know, eh?

 So then we were up for Saturday’s headliners INSPIRAL CARPETS, making their first “Shiiine On” appearance since the first one (AKA the one I didn’t go to). Now reunited with original vocalist Stephen Holt after keyboardist and main man Clint Boon fell out with Tom Hingley (who’d sung on the Carpets’ better-known songs and who had played a rather good actually “Shiiine” set with The Kar-Pets back in 2016), I was rather looking forward to them, as I’d come in with their “Trainsurfing” EP, which had featured Holt. Coming on to World Of Twist’s classic “The Storm” and a huge ovation for the buoyant Clint Boon, they were straight into the frantic baggy beat and Door-like keys of terrace chant opener “Joe”. However, things unfortunately immediately sounded off, the rendition rushed and cluttered. The 60’s B Movie car chase call-and-response of “Butterfly” was better, but Holt, his vocals more exposed in the mix, sounded flat and droney, even missing half a verse. Things didn’t improve with the puzzlingly early “This Is How It Feels”, the elegiac anthemic singalong being totally crowd-driven, and it became apparent that Tom Hingley might be a bit of a twat, but he was a much better singer for the Inspirals!

 I took a wander back to meet up with Rachel and Sarah behind the mixing desk and to see if things sounded better back there – however, they didn’t! “Move”, my favourite Inspirals track, was muddied and “I Want You” frankly dirge-like, all overlaid by these disappointingly flat vocals. I wouldn’t say this was the worst vocal performance I’d ever seen at a Festival – I’d seen Ian Brown’s self-destruction at Reading 1995, after all – but this was a major disappointment. The crowd lapped it up, lots of “moo”s greeting every track, which made me think either they didn’t care about the sound, or were totally twatted, or a bit of both… 

We took an early wander to Centre Stage before the Inspirals finished, and I grabbed a bit of barrier for the first of those intriguing late 90’s reunions I’d mentioned earlier. RIALTO, who’d impressed as Sleeper’s support at the Oasis in 1998 (gig. 368) took the stage at 10.15, the 5-piece smartly dressed in slightly baggy (but not David Byrne-level) suits and led by the floppy fringed, impossibly handsome Louis Eliot, who remarked, “It’s been a minute! This is the first gig we’ve played in 21 years!” If that was so, then this was an utterly remarkable return, as from the off their sweeping, 60’s kitchen sink drama Scott Walker meets Suede material sounded taut, tight and mighty fine, even shorn of the swelling orchestral arrangements which underpinned their studio output. “Hard Candy”s 60’s inflected plaintive riff ceded to the slow burn build to the sky-scraping choral hook of “Untouchable”, followed in short order by the seedy, Pulp-like moody rocker “Broken Barbie Doll” and Ziggy-era Bowie-esque backstreet ballad “London Crawling”. Eliot, clearly loving it up there, threw a Rialto tshirt into the crowd (their only piece of merchandise!) before the stately Walker Brotherisms of “The Underdogs”, then closer “Monday Morning 5.19” was the set highlight, wallowing, melancholy and yet soaring at the same time. Overall, a triumphant return! 


I took a wander back to the crew’s table on the balcony, and kept a watching brief for SLEEPER, next up. Attracting likely the biggest crowd of the weekend into Centre Stage, and led onstage by vocalist Louise Wener, clearly observing Sequin Saturday, they kicked things off with the bright ringing Britpop of “Pyrotechnician”, Lou’s breathy Eartha Kitt vocals to the fore. Unfortunately, for me the set took a little while to get going, a bit too much anonymous Indie fayre for my liking, despite the best efforts of an energetic Lou and hired hand guitarist, Desperate Journalist’s Charley Stone. However, “What Do I Do Now” was a bouncy singalong, and an unexpected cover of Pixies’ “Wave Of Mutilation”, Louise stretching the verse into a slow burn crowd singalong, was a surprise, to say the least! The more anticipated cover of Blondie’s bubbling disco classic “Atomic”, interspersed again with a mid-song singalong to “Love Will Tear Us Apart” was easily the best of set for me, the strutting “Inbetweener” and knockabout “Sale Of The Century” closing out a crowd-pleasing set which had some fine moments, but again from songs belonging to other people! The place then emptied and less than half the Sleeper crowd were left to greet THE SUPERNATURALS, on late at 1.15 a.m. after a fiddly soundcheck. I gave them a few numbers – they’d largely passed me by back in the day, and tonight initially sounded Summery and melodic in a sub-Teenage Fanclub way, but again the vocalist was too grating and monotone for so late in the day, so after they diverted into more OCS-landfill indie territory, I bailed, leaving my crew to suffer through them in order to get to Steve Lamacq’s Indie Disco at 2.30. Fair play – they all did!

 A threat of rain greeted us Sunday morning; thankfully it held off, so we didn’t need to drive over for lunch! So, we all took a nice wander along the Minehead seafront and over to The Old Ship Aground for a fine Carvery Sunday lunch, annoyingly being required to wait awhile for our lunch tokens, but ultimately well worth the wait! Unfortunately, the delay meant that a slow wander back pitched me up at the Inn On The Green about ¾ through JETSTREAM PONY’s well attended early afternoon set. Damn shame, as what I caught was bright, chunky and melodic female-fronted indie pop in a pacey strumalong C86 meets early Teenage Fanclub vein. Hopefully they’ll be back next year, and I can catch all of their set… 

I was however in place on the barrier for the second of the intriguing reunions I’d alluded to earlier, next to a chap I’d spoken to last year about my World Of Twist tshirt! Anyway, back to the music… I’d briefly caught LINOLEUM’S last number at Reading Festival 2000 (gig 456) and dismissed them as dated doom merchants. However I’d done my due diligence after seeing their name on this bill, picking up cheapo CD copies of their 2 albums, and realised my mistake, thoroughly enjoying their introspective goth/ post-punk tinged bedsit mood music, overlaid with the Mary Lorson-esque little girl lost vocals of Caroline Finch, who with trowelled-on mascara and a black beehive so high it needed scaffolding, was quite a looker in the old days… 23 years on, the mascara is still in place, along with a perma-grin rivalling Sice’s, as she led on her recently reformed (4th gig in 21 years, apparently, this one…) 4-piece and eased into opener “She’s Sick”, all pseudo-goth drama and harsh slashing riffery from guitarist Paul Jones. The droney, Velvet Underground meets “Christine”-House Of Love “Your Back Again” followed, the band immediately hitting their stride, and the excellent “Dissent”, with the downbeat descending hook, was next up and an early highlight. “Marquis”’s discordant post-punk pin-prick rhythm recalled early Wire, and “Restriction” was a galloping dismissive moody piece which could have even been lifted from the first Pretenders album. However, their reading of early 80’s post-punkers’ The Passions’ classic “I’m In Love With A German Film Star” (“Our most recent single; it came out 23 years ago!” quipped a bubbly yet hitherto taciturn Finch) was the set highlight, eerie and building, with the band hitting that fine balance of remaining faithful to the original yet moving around enough furniture to make it their own. Overall, another impressive return! 


Grabbed a pic with a besieged Finch afterwards and chatted to the Abstraction Engine boys outside the Inn, before a light drizzle saw me head for the Skyline Arena, meeting the crew and catching the last number of ALEX LIPINSKI on the Skyline stage. His punchy Britpop/ powerpop sounded half decent actually, so I was sorry I missed most (if not all) of his set. Then, having little interest in The Farm and none at all in Fun Lovin’ Criminals, next up in the Arena, I headed back to the apartment for a late-afternoon lie down! 


Back in however for the last knockings of “Shiiine On”, for me at least; met Rach, had a pasty and phoned home, then back in our usual Skyline spot for the “Shiiine On” debuts of a couple of late 2000’s bands. First up at 20 past 7 was THE VIEW (who we arrived late for, following our pasty break!). I wasn’t much sold on this lot when I saw them on the 2007 NME “Brats Bus” new bands tour (gig 723), particularly their own crowd chant “The View are on fire”, and the first number we heard tonight, sung by bassist Kieren Webster and sounding like a mess of 2 numbers welded together, did nothing to change that view (sic). However, things improved when usual vocalist (and clearly part flamingo, judging by his propensity to stand on one leg) Kyle Falconer resumed lead duties, with “Allergic To Mornings” a knockabout Kinks-like singalong, and “Double Yellow Lines” a decent driving indie rocker. “Face For The Radio” was a quirky strumalong veering into Coral territory, and “Sunday” was my favourite, a galloping rocker with a helium chorus, “ramping up the tempo to cray cray,” as the affable Falconer put it. “Same Jeans”, their big hit and millstone number, was inserted late-set, but for me is still a total rip-off of Cornershop’s “Brimful Of Asha”, and I sang “BFA”’s lyrics along to it, whilst fending off some bloke who came up to me and announced, a propos of nothing, “that’s Kell Faulkner, he’s a wee fanny fae Dundee!” OK then! A couple of bouncy upbeat indie pop numbers and a rabble rousing closer “Shock Horror” rounded off a quite enjoyable set actually, better than I expected… Are The View on fire? Not sure, but smouldering nicely…

 The place got noticeably busier, and I lost Rach, who went for a drink and then piled down the front for Sunday headliners THE ENEMY, on at 8.45 to a purple smoky stage and The Who’s bilious, fist-pumping “Teenage Wasteland” as musical backdrop. This number pretty much set the tone for their set, as it happened, as vocalist and angry young man-in-chief Tom Clarke made it his goal to fire up and ignite the crowd into one final fist-pumping anti-establishment singalong sesh. “All you sleepy fuckers at the back! I can’t hear you!” he cried as they ripped into an intense and earnest opener “Aggro”, followed in short order by the bolshy, Jam-ish anthem “Away From Here”. Time clearly hasn’t calmed Clarke down, it seems… 


The Enemy were clearly a band on a mission and in a hurry tonight, with an aggressive “Had Enough” preceded by a “here we, here we, here we fucking go!” chant from Clarke, and initially the frantic pace seemed a bit unfocussed and relentless, particularly coupled with Clarke’s constant rabble rousing (one cry of, “I know some of you are getting old, and it’s past your bedtimes, but I don’t give a fuck!” being a bit jarring, with Jon at this point dipping out of the set because he was tired of being shouted at by the vocalist – fair enough really…). However, they hit their stride for me with the heartfelt “That’s Entertainment”-esque strumalong “We’ll Live And Die In These Towns”, the message of urban deprivation being more articulately conveyed by this number, followed up by an almost Bauhaus “Dark Entries”-like descending riff opening to the frantic, almost ska-rhythm of “You’re Not Alone”. Talking of ska, “40 Days And 40 Nights” saw Clarke reference fellow Coventrians The Specials, throwing a couplet from “Ghost Town” in the mid-section hook; then “This Song” was an anthemic manifesto for The Enemy massive, the hook ringing around the arena, then reprised a couple of numbers later to finish the set on an inclusive note. I liked them fine, loved the energy, and their hearts are definitely in the right place, but the intensity and earnestness seemed a little wearing at times. However, they fully justified their position as Sunday headliners, a point underlined by Rach who’d been in the mosh throughout; on the previous occasions we’d seen The Enemy she’d been pregnant both times (!) so happily made up for lost time tonight!

 That was it for me, musically at least; half the crew headed off to catch Stereo MCs in Centre Stage and I happily steered clear of that one, wandering back under an inky black but happily dry sky to our apartment with Jon and Martin. We chilled and chatted awhile, Jon ultimately deciding to go back and catch The Primitives’ late 12.30 set in Reds; remembering what an utterly shambolic car “Crash” they were at “Shiiine On” 2018 (gig 1,112), I decided not to join him, but afterwards Jon reported back that they were quite good, so hey ho… I hit the hay instead, then the following morning we once again had one final breakfast, checked out of the apartment and packed cars, then booked for next year! Fond farewells before a swift drive back to the ‘don, home at 2.30 after dropping Sarah off and doing the school run for our daughter. So, despite my trepidation, this was another brilliant weekend, because, as ever, “Shiiine On” is more than just the bands; it’s a time to catch up with old friends, relax, and enjoy the vibe. Plus, the weather was nowhere near as inclement as feared… and as for my last point, well, Gigolo Aunts are welcome to come over and play “Shiiine On” whenever they want!!

 

SHERIFF’S SHIIINE ON SELECTION

 Friday Best – THE WONDER STUFF

Saturday Best – RIALTO

Sunday Best – LINOLEUM

 Overall – 1. THE WONDER STUFF (3rd time Top Band in 4 appearances across my 7 “Shiiine On”s)!

     2. BOO RADLEYS

     3. RIALTO

 Best New Band Got to be ABSTRACTION ENGINE! Yeah, I know I knew them already, but they’re new to “Shiiine On”, so there!

 We Can Be Heroes – MY CREW as ever, including newbies Jon and Sarah, and especially Rachel for making up for lost time in The Enemy moshpit; MILES HUNT for being a genuine bloke happy to chat with all and sundry; PAUL MALONE from CANDY OPERA who was happy to chat Liverpool rock’n’roll with me until the cows came home!

Monday, 9 October 2023

1,297 GANG OF FOUR, Miki Berenyi Trio, Hallan, Bristol O2 Academy, Saturday 7th October 2023

 



I’m not really sure what I was expecting from this one, but it certainly wasn’t that…!

I confess that seminal Leeds New Wave politico-agit post punkers Gang Of Four rather passed me by back in the day. Unlike kindred spirits Wire (whose “12XU” was a regular floor-filler), they never got played at U-18 Brunel, my local nightclub and main source of my late 70’s-early 80’s musical finds, so when I diverted into Bunnymen territory in the early 80’s, I never bothered checking them out. My mistake. An early 2000’s revisit of that era (most current bands then finding inspiration from that time) included GO4’s landmark debut “Entertainment”, and sure enough I found it an excellent if uncomfortable listen, the music taut, tense, stripped back and claustrophobic, reflecting the bleak cold war threat and political/ industrial unrest of those times, with pointed, acerbic lyricism practically barked out by vocalist Jon King. Somewhere between industrial post-punkers Comsat Angels and anarchist sloganeers Crass, then… It had always been at the back of my mind to catch them “live”; sadly I left it too late to see a line-up featuring influential original guitarist Andy Gill, who died in 2020, but this tour was a tempter, going from possible to definite by the addition of “The Queen of Shoegaze”, Miki Berenyi and her trio, as tour support.

Old friend Keith was up for it too and just happened to be in Bristol during the day, so I drove down early, meeting the man at 5 for some splendid BBQ Chinese nosh up Park Street, then grabbing a barrier spot house right at doors (next to gig buddy Alfie again!), after gaining O2 Priority entrance! Not long to wait for young openers Hallan, on at 7.25; their first 2 numbers were dark, angry bass-led beasts with a proper crap-rap rant-style vocal delivery, strongly reminiscent of The Fall, but just as I was about to dismiss them as another bunch of incoherent shouty Fontaines DC-alikes, they served up the splendid “Cut With The Kitchen Knife”, a dark brooding early Editors-esque number with a proper “sung” vocal. Yay! The subsequent “Colline Gate” had shades of early New Order with a gothy descending Hooky base, and the crisp, regimented riff of closer “Money Talks” recalled Killing Joke’s “Love Like Blood”. Strong finish to an overall promising set…

 

Miki (who I’d briefly spoken to on the way in, Miki claiming to remember me from March’s Stroud gig (no. 1,272) which was nice) then led her boys onstage for 8.15 to a warm welcome, the stark and detached opener “Light From A Dead Star” setting the tone for the mood of the set, if not the sound… initially the guitar was very muted, the programmed drumbeats the main feature for Miki’s fragile, high-register vocals to compete with. I get that this line-up won’t have the upfront, smothering guitar reverb and effects of Miki’s former charges Lush and that’s fine, I just wanted a bit more oomph… thankfully the guitars chimed in properly for the haunting feel and textural pitter patter of 4th number “Vertigo”, and the soaring yet plaintive “For Love” was lovely. Miki, relaxed and urbane onstage, chatted about Moose’s beloved Spurs being top of the Premier League and made excuses for a hangover from last night’s London gig, before the bubbly dance of “Big I Am” and dissonant mystery of closer and best-of-set “Baby Talk” rounded off another overall charming set. Looking forward to seeing them at “Shiiine On” now…!

 It got a little busier down the front but this was a fairly quiet one overall, with the balcony shut tonight. Still, one hoped that GO4 would play to the folks here rather than lament those absent… and so it proved; and how! Led onstage to a fanfare by their singer, the wild-eyed imposing Zefram Cochrane lookalike (well, actor James Cromwell, but hey, I’m a Trekker so I’m bound to say Big Z!) Jon King, they were immediately “on it”, opener “Return The Gift” fast, funky and frenetic, with guitarist David Pajo sending jagged shards of sound around the venue, and the aforementioned King throwing David Byrne staccato shapes belying his 68 (!) years. “You’re all very attractive!” announced a beaming King, clearly in fantasy band camp onstage throughout, as “We Live As We Dream, Alone” was an irresistibly groovy early highlight, the man then announcing, “I cheered when you chucked that evil motherfucker [Edward Colston]’s statue into the river!”

 

As I mentioned, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this veteran bunch of political post-punkers, and, given the material, I may have been anticipating this to be a bit tinny, moody, dour even… Nope, none of that; Gang Of Four were pretty much the opposite; upbeat, irrepressible and actually downright fun, propelled by King’s kinetic onstage antics and full on in-your-face delivery, and Pajo’s virtuoso guitar work, the guitarist often using the mic stand to coax ever more dissonant, squalling and serrated noise from his instrument. “He’d Send In The Army” saw a roadie wheel on a used microwave for King to batter to pieces with a baseball bat as percussion (said object being on sale at the merch stand afterwards for £30!); a subsequent Dr. Feelgood cover “Roxette” was an unexpected swaggering bluesy stomp; and “I Parade Myself” was brilliant, Pajo’s Middle-Eastern guitar inflections the base for King’s flamboyant gestures and mellifluous, teasing vocals. Miki made an onstage appearance for “I Love A Man In Uniform”, joining drummer Hugo Burnham’s daughter on backing vocals, then Burnham himself took centre stage, his rock-steady, regimental drumbeat powering the clipped military march of “At Home He’s A Tourist”. “I Found That Essence Rare” was my set-highlight, a brilliant, jet-propelled and hooky blast, before the strident terrace chant of a pointed “To Hell With Poverty” closed out a quite startling set. 

Another cover – this time of fellow Leeds post-punkers The Mekons’ “Where Were You”, for former Mekon Mark White, apparently in the crowd tonight (!) was the highlight of a 3-song encore, the band taking a deserved bow after a triumphant and celebratory performance. I grabbed a list (batting down some other punter’s hand to do so – the roadie’s giving it to me, bucko!) then we headed off, reflecting on the gig. Tense, claustrophobic, dour, downbeat, monotone? Nope, tonight’s Gang Of Four gig was just absolutely bloody joyous!






Sunday, 26 March 2023

1,272 MIKI BERENYI TRIO, Stroud Sub-Rooms, Saturday 25th March 2023

 

Something slightly different, this one, but there’s a musical performance involved, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s a gig! I was a huge fan of Miki Berenyi’s former band Lush from the off, falling hard for their immediate potent blend of Throwing Muses jagged rhythms, MBV-style wall-of-sound guitar effects and otherworldly dreaminess, seeing them “live” 4 times in 1989-1990 and declaring their imminent superstardom to all and sundry. Checked out on them a tad as subsequent releases became wispier and more ethereal (defining the “shoegaze” genre in the process), although I loved their final flippant, more upbeat and melody-led album “Lovelife”, and likely would have caught them a few more times “live” had it not been for the shocking suicide of drummer Chris Acland and Lush’s subsequent (and understandable) dissolution. A reunion gig in 2016 (gig 987) was an uneven yet welcome full stop to the Lush story, the band knocking it on the head, likely for good, shortly afterwards, and seemingly returning to their day jobs (a couple of releases from Miki’s subsequent hobby band, Piroshka, notwithstanding). However, Miki then tried something different; she wrote her memoirs! The book, “Fingers Crossed”, is a cracking read, as raw and turbulent yet thrillingly entertaining as the band’s early material, throwing light on a fascinating life and well deserving of its’ plaudits. I’d missed Miki’s book signing in Bristol at the back end of last year, but was up for any subsequent event close by; so, a Saturday matinee one at nearby Stroud? Thanks, I do!

 So, I took a mid-afternoon drive through the winding South Cotswolds, parking up and killing some time in the Sub Rooms café chatting with a couple of gents who’d been to an earlier event, and who were fascinated about my Gig Book No. 1, which I’d brought along to show Miki my setlist from Lush’s March 1990 Reading gig (no. 157, and my 100th list!). Eventually joined the queue, then took a front row seat in this small side-room space, bathed in pink light and adorned with 90’s memorabilia, as Miki and her 2 back up gents finished setting up the raised stage. Miki then organised seating for the sold-out crowd “like a school mistress!”, before introducing “The Miki Berenyi Trio” and kicking off the performance just after 5. Three guitars, so synth effects and drum machine beats were played through a laptop, the metronomic beat underpinning a haunting opening reading of “Light From A Dead Star”, which, stripped of the shimmering effect-led wall of sound, felt raw and intimate, setting the tone for a relaxed, low-key yet absorbing set.

 


“Leaves Me Cold” from the “Mad Love” EP, was next up, again shorn of the recorded version’s growling guitar menace but giving more emphasis to Miki’s lovely, descending yet mainly high-register lilting vocals. “I left my pedals on the train!” she remarked before the more baroque, almost madrigal feel of the dreampoppy “Covert”. The soft synth pitter patter of a light, summery “Vertigo” followed, before Miki then introduced the more robust “Kiss Chase” tongue-in-cheek as, “[one] about child abuse… always brings the house down”… “Baby Talk” (“a very very old song – “Scar” old… [Camden] Falcon old!” according to Miki) was my set highlight, the most strident number in the set, with an underlying hint of menace emphasised by Miki’s lower, more atonal Sioux-alike vocal, before “Big I Am”, a funky newie (“Because I feel like it!” – and why not?), concluded a thoroughly charming half hour’s performance.

 

Set over (and set-list kindly provided by guitarist Olly – whom I mistook for Miki’s partner Moose; whoops, that was the other guy!), BBC presenter and journalist Samira Ahmed joined Miki onstage, engaging the singer in conversation about her life and times, upbringing and heritage, via the lens of “Fingers Crossed”. This was actually very entertaining and revealing, Miki coming across as self-effacing, honest and as entertainingly deadpan, matter-of-fact and (still!) profane as her absorbing memoir. A brief Q&A followed, and I got to ask about Lush’s treatment by the now-defunct weekly music press and whether we’re missing something with said press no longer existing, which prompted further debate between Miki and Samira.

 

Miki then decamped to the back of the room, signing copies of her book and anything else. I’d gotten the boys to sign my list so Miki completed the “Trio” set, and I showed her the landmark 100th setlist from my book to her general amusement. I also presented her with a framed photo I took of her and Tanya Donelly at Belly’s first UK gig (November 1992, gig 226!). She was lovely, gregarious and very accommodating to my ramblings, and seemed genuinely pleased with my gift. I eventually hit the road, back home for 7.30 and chip shop chips for tea. So, something slightly different, but something very worthwhile, and so glad to meet Miki again after all this time!