Showing posts with label Peter Hook And The Light. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Hook And The Light. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 November 2025

1,416 PETER HOOK AND THE LIGHT, Bath Komedia, Friday 21st November 2025

 

Quickly back on the gig trail after last weekend’s “Shiiine On”, and with a “Shiiine” regular sadly absent from recent bills, in the towering legend that is Peter Hook, late of course of dark post-punk pioneers Joy Division and their offspring, indie/ dance crossover progenitors New Order. Hooky announced a tour of New Order’s oft overlooked 2001 “Get Ready” album, prompting some research on my part; but when I checked, I discovered I didn’t even own a copy! Either I was too deep into my Boston rock period then, or so disappointed with their previous 1993 NO-by-numbers release “Republic” (despite subsequently loving their 1998 Reading Festival should’ve-been-headliner set, gig 381) that I didn’t bother… either way, I rectified that with a cheapo CD copy, finding it a notable improvement over its’ blander predecessor and more in line with the mid-80’s “Low Life”/ “Brotherhood” vibe. So tix were duly booked for the Bath stop on the tour!

Like the recent Edwyn Collins gig at this same venue (gig 1,406), I was joined by old friends and curry table regulars Paul and Colin, so I again did the pick-up honours early doors for a traffic-affected run off the beaten track to Bath, parking up in the Podium car park and enjoying some nosh in the Salamander pub before the gig. An early one, this, so we hit the venue at ¼ to 7, running into old Brunel/Lev faces Steffen and Adam at the bar! I then left the boys for a floor spot, house left, a few rows back in this already busy room, enjoying a chat with a lovely lady called Geeta and her friends about “Shiiine On”. The Light took the stage at an early 7.15, easing into opener “Crystal”, then Hooky joined us last, with an expression of serious intent and a black shirt displaying the motif “Mani No. 1” on the back, in tribute to the Stone Roses bassist, sadly lost to us this week at a shockingly young 63. “Crystal” was excellent, growling, gravelly and hard-edged, setting the tone for the first-set “Get Ready” run through, with guitarist David Potts then taking lead vocals for the subsequent poppier and catchier “60 Miles An Hour”, doing an uncanny impression of New Order vocalist Bernard Sumner in the process! “It’s kind of you to indulge me with “Get Ready”,” Hooky acknowledged at its conclusion, “it was recorded in Bath [and] cost us everything we earned for 30 years!” 

“Get Ready” itself was a definite return to form for New Order, the songwriting better and the delivery harder-edged and more dynamic than it’s immediate forebear, almost nodding to NYC proto-punk in its driven and dramatic slashing guitars, augmenting the NO sonic staples of sheet synth, robotic yet thrusting drums and of course that unique, undulating Hooky bass. So “Vicious Streak” was an early outlier to the 2 upbeat openers, more slow-burn, austere and haunting; “Slow Jam” was more abrasive and off-kilter with a nonetheless big anthemic choral hook; and the tumbling stream of consciousness verse and chanted hook of “Rock The Shack” overlaid an archetypal Hooky bassline played by Jack, i.e. Hooky Jr., his dad alluding to shoulder issues and not playing his bass as low-slung as usual. ““Get Ready” was mine and Barney’s second honeymoon – but it all went to shit soon after – like most honeymoons!” admitted Hooky, finishing this excellent opening set with a pounding, dancey and Ibiza-tastic “Technique”-esque “Here To Stay”.

Barely a 10 minute break before the workaholic bassist rejoined us to the strains of Kraftwerk’s “Trans Europe Express”, plunging straight into the dark, sinister avalanche of “Atrocity Exhibition”, leading into a selection of growling, harsh and guttural Joy Division deep cuts. Old Brunel fave, the descending bass of “Disorder”, was an early highlight, as was the regimented drumbeat of the stark and febrile “Heart And Soul”. “Transmission” was usual its roaring, anthemic self, but the clear highlight of the JD numbers for me was the beautifully stark, elegiac wallow of an extended “Decades” dedicated by Hooky to his friend Mani.

A surprising double of the mournful melancholy of “Doubts Even Here” and the building guitar opening of a brilliant “Dreams Never End” opened the New Order element of this second set, Hooky largely keeping off the beaten path with the set selection (“Blue Monday”’s thrusting dance pulse notwithstanding). A superb, propulsive “Age Of Consent” was my overall highlight; “Vanishing Point” a pulsing rhythmic dance vibe, and “Ceremony” was stately and epic, a stripped back middle 8 ceding to a stunning outro crescendo. Another tribute to Mani and his twin sons, now sadly left parentless, preceded a lengthy, inclusive singalong to inevitable closer “Love Will Tear Us Apart” before I caught up with the boys and we slightly lost our way to the car park (and in it!), eventually locating the motor for an inky drive home. So, tonight may have been a slightly sombre occasion for him given his friend’s loss, but Hooky again smashed it with another brilliant set of some overlooked gems. Hooky, mate, Mani would’ve been looking down on you with pride tonight…

Friday, 8 November 2024

1,355 PETER HOOK AND THE LIGHT, Frome Cheese and Grain, Thursday 7th November 2024



Hooky again? Hell yeah… I’d booked this one a year ago (!), when enduring post-punk legend Peter Hook announced a November 2024 tour of the “Substance” singles collections of both his previous charges, 70’s dark, morose post-punk legends Joy Division and 80’s more upbeat synth/ dance driven rabble New Order. At the time there was a possibility that Hook might have found a spare date in this November tour to play “Shiiine On”, but I wasn’t taking any chances and just sorted myself for the full-length Hook experience at the excellent Cheese And Grain anyway. Good job too, as it turned out; not only did Hooky not play “Shiiine On”, but my intended August trip to Cardiff, to see his former bandmates in New Order, was called off on the morning of the gig due to alleged windy conditions buffeting the outdoor Cardiff Bay venue. So, I was glad to have a bit of “Substance” in my Autumn Dance Card! 

Not the only one either; The Big Man was up for this as well, so he picked me up at 6 for an inky drive down country roads to Frome. All plain sailing until we got into town, then we unfortunately encountered roadworks-affected road closures every which way we turned, necessitating us to practically circumnavigate the town and attack the venue from the other side! So, we arrived a bunch later than anticipated; (relatively) local boy Matt was already there, so we joined him just after 7.30 in his house right spot, half a dozen rows back, for a catch up before the intended 8 p.m. start. 

And yup, Hooky and his charges didn’t keep us waiting too long, joining us bang on 8, and “on it” from the get-go with an Ibiza-tastic and superbly balanced-sounding synth dance opener “Vanishing Point”, Hook’s long-time Light oppo David Potts taking lead vocals on this one (as he did throughout on numbers requiring a slightly higher octave than Hook’s own stentorian, leonesque growl). The startling juxtaposition of heartfelt plaintive verse and crescendo overlay of a brilliant “Leave Me Alone” then segued into the unmistakable opening chimes of an equally marvellous “Ceremony” and the smooth sheet synth and pulsating metronomic beat of “Procession”, heralding the New Order “Substance “ chronological run-through, tracking their musical odyssey from brittle synth-embellished post-punk (e.g. “Temptation” and the Kraftwerk-esque “Confusion”), via the disco-powered game changer “Blue Monday” to their more recognised expansive full-on dance/ indie sound which pre-empted the late 80’s Madchester movement. All, of course, underpinned by the unique, low-slung bass note stylings of Mr. Hook himself, delivering an imperious performance and absolute masterclass in the art of the bass guitar. “Perfect Kiss” proved the centrepiece of the NO set; a little thin sounding and lacking the full synth swell in the early verses, it really gained heft and took flight after Hook’s mid-set monologue, a lengthy and brilliant circular denouement utterly startling, and honestly it could have gone on all night for me! Oh and yes, the frogs were as wondrous as ever too..!


“We’ve got this far, fuck it,” growled Hooky before a final stomping “True Faith” and a brief 10 minute pause, during which some fellow punters commented on my sweaty Chameleon’s tee. I’d been giving it loads from the outset and hadn’t noticed! In short order, the boys retook the stage to Kraftwerk’s “Trans Europe Express”, kicking into the pounding and stark Joy Division set opener “No Love Lost” and the wobbling riff and frenetic pace of “These Days”. The JD set was of course rockier, more guitar based and moodier than the first set, the embryonic NYC punky growl of “Interzone” an early highlight before I took a breather at the back, taking the opportunity to purchase a splendid “Hooky 24” tee before jumping back in for the excellent “Transmission”. However, much as I hold Joy Division dear, along with my other early 80’s post-punk discoveries, I not only lamented the absence from “Substance” of my favourite JD tracks (“Disorder”, “New Dawn Fades” and “Decades”), but also wished the NO set could have been the second played tonight…

However, I understood why it was this way around, as it afforded Hooky the opportunity to pay tribute to Light manager Peasy’s recently-lost mother (and, in fact, to “mums everywhere”) before a haunting, elegiac “Atmosphere”, then also give kudos to erstwhile New Order producer Quincy Jones, dedicating the inevitable, all-inclusive and excellent set closer “Love Will Tear Us Apart” to his memory. An utterly appropriate way to end another imperious 2 ½ hour performance from an utter force of rock’n’roll nature. Patience was rewarded with both parts of the set-list, before I chatted to fellow punters then we bade Matt farewell, a much easier drive home seeing Rich drop me off just after midnight. Excellent stuff again overall from another Mancunian rock legend; as long as Hooky’s putting in shifts like this, I’ll be there to see ‘em!


Sunday, 30 April 2023

1,275 PETER HOOK AND THE LIGHT (2 Sets), Frome Cheese And Grain, Saturday 29th April 2023

 



A slow gig month of April is nonetheless ending on a high note, with the welcome return of a bona fide rock legend… having run the gamut of the entire Joy Division/ New Order canon of releases that he was involved in, it seems Mancunian post-punk icon Peter Hook is circling right back to the beginning, going through the dark, dramatic goth-tinged moody post-punk of his first band once again! Happy with that, the man’s always been more than good value whatever he chooses to play… and given that this fell on a Saturday night, this gave me the currently rare opportunity to bring my full-on GCSE-mode teenage son along for a break in his studies, to further an altogether different kind of education. When I first played Logan “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, his response on hearing this seminal all-time classic was, “so this song wasn’t so much written, more like handed down from God…” so I think the boy gets it…!

 Also joining us were old friends and fellow JD/NO devotees Colin and Paul, Colin picking us up at 6 for the first gig we’d travelled to together for nearly 40 years (Orange Juice at Golddiggers in 1984, gig 22!). Mused about this disgraceful state of affairs and other topics, during a meandering yet pleasant drive through Wiltshire’s backroads, parking up and grabbing a drink in this old corn market hall’s beer garden. Popped into the venue 10 minutes before the support, happily finding a pocket of space near the front, house right. As is his wont, Hooky was supporting himself, leading the band onstage at 8 and proclaiming, “we’ve tried something different on this tour; we’ve let each one of the band pick [the support] set-list! This is Paul’s turn…” Said list was a New Order selection, and Paul absolutely nailed the choice, with the pounding backbeat and change of pace of opener “The Him”, followed by the clattering synth pattern and eerie melodica overlay of “Movement”’s “Truth” and a beautifully plaintive and understated “Leave Me Alone”. Things really ramped up a few gears thereafter, though, with an unexpected “Blue Monday”, a stately “True Faith” and a bubbling, buoyant and singalong “Temptation” to round off a splendid half hour vignette, all delivered with sweeping authority by Hooky and the lads. Superb stuff… and that was just the opening set…!

 Our spot down the front got busier and more sauna-esque, as we were also joined by gig buddy Paul (from last year’s War On Drugs gig, no. 1,219); I took a comfort break at 8.45 and got caught out by Hooky re-taking the stage for the “Unknown Pleasures” rendition, powering into a fast, frantic and frankly incendiary “Disorder”. “Day Of The Lords”, next up, was replete with seething menace, Hooky growling the, “when will it end,” hook with imperious command, conducting the crowd with outstretched arm. The widescreen dark epic “New Dawn Fades” was however my highlight, Hooky raising his usually low, gravelly and stentorian vocals one octave for the genuinely affecting second verse. “Shadowplay” and “Interzone” were tense, taut proto-punk thrashes, with closer “I Remember Nothing” (a track I often struggle with, finding it a leaden plod) faring better “live”, all morose claustrophobia, reflecting those uneasy cold war 70’s times.

 Another brief break before the band returned, the tumbling drum pattern of “Atrocity Exhibition” heralding the “Closer” run-through. This was actually the first time I’d seen Hooky do Joy Division’s sophomore effort, an album I confess I know less well than its’ predecessor, and I was surprised how more synth-based the sound was, particularly on the expansive twinkling Eurodisko of “Isolation”, the regimented, almost funky stomp of “Means To An End” and the church organ wall of sound of “Closer”’s closer, the elegiac “Decades”. Definite nods towards the direction New Order were to ultimately take, although my “Closer” highlight was the taut, jagged and razor-sharp “Colony”, ironically the one track which would have fit most aptly on “Unknown Pleasures”… And, of course, all were delivered with superb purpose and conviction by Hooky and Co., the man turning his back to the crowd at “Decade”’s climax, signalling his approval with one arm aloft, before leaving the band to a lengthy and rapturously-received crescendo.

 They’d saved the best until last, however; the encore saw Hooky thank everyone on this, the last night of the tour, before an undulating, punky “Digital” ceded to the bass riff opening of a brilliant “Ceremony”, Hooky stripping the sound right back for the middle 8 breakdown before the haunting denouement, A hurtling “Transmission” followed, before the inevitable highlight of the night, a gloriously skyscraping rendition of “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, handed down by God and his strafing bass. Just magnificent. Hooky then cast his t-shirt to the masses before departing, then Logan and I grabbed a list and met the boys back at the car, home at midnight. A high note to end April, indeed, with the enduring legend that is Peter Hook!

Sunday, 21 November 2021

1,199 THE 2021 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 12th – Sunday 14th November 2021

 


After a 2 year Covid-induced absence… it’s once more time to “Shiiine”! This, now a regular fixture in the Rose social – let alone “gig” – calendar, was another sad pandemic casualty in 2020, so when announcements arrived for the 2021 bill, featuring some intriguing new – and more recent – acts to this predominantly late 80’s/ early 90’s UK indie rock/ dance crossover flavoured festival, we were all over it! Our “Core Four” this year were initially expanded to 6, last year’s debutant Ady enjoying it so much that he was well up for a repeat, and old friend James, who booked solo last year but joined us for “the hang”, also came in on our 6 berth booking. Unfortunately, last minute withdrawals put paid to James’ attendance and, more significantly, Rich’s. Bugger! Still, at least that meant Matt and Ady would each have their own room in the 6-berther…!

 

So, on an unseasonably bright and warm November morning, Rach and I picked Ady up at 9.45 for a swift drive down to Minehead, parking up at Tesco for the usual breakfast fixings and snacks shop, before being joined in short order by Matt, hot-footing over from Wookey as usual. The usual catching up (damn, been too long) ensued over shopping and the traditional seafront fish and chip lunch, then a slightly different booking in process as we were all ushered to a new hall at the back of the resort complex to get Covid-checked and individual wristbands handed out. All very efficient, actually, so we were in our first floor 6 berth apartment and settling in by early afternoon! Then out to the main “Skyline Arena” (the big open space under the iconic Butlins tents) for the first music of the weekend from THE CLAUSE at 3.45. A new name on me, this young lot had one good song, soaring second number “Time Of Our Lives”, a few other decent touches amongst their usual sneery 90’s Manc/ 60’s Stones blues mix, and one later number, “Forever Young”, which owed a lot to U2 (the intro riff very reminiscent of the intricate opening to “Where The Streets Have No Name”!). Decent start… Looking to avoid Welsh baggy rap act Goldie Lookin’ Chain (that very description makes me shudder!), next up, we wandered over to the already-late-running Inn On The Green for DIRTY LACES, another young band with similar influences to The Clause, but playing it slower, looser and baggier, with some chap in a lab coat (!) occasionally offering some Doors-ish keyboard licks amongst his usual guitar work. Their fast and furious rawk wig-out at the end of their final number was the most noteworthy element of an okay, if slightly ham-fisted set. Still, waaay better than GLC…! Stayed put for CROSS WIRES, next up, who were more like it; a bit all over the place stylistically, with 60’s West Coast psych rock and Tex Mex inflections thrown randomly into a dark, almost Gothy shouty post-punk Fontaines DC-like noise, with an intense and energetic vocalist who was often scaling the front barrier, wide-eyed and bristling with conviction, giving it loads, despite looking like the kind of bloke who’d change your front lights at Halfords! I’m not sure I liked the shouty, almost hectoring vocal delivery, but he meant it, maaaan, and Cross Wires were easily the best of this initial crop of new bands, with set closer “Twisted Up In Time”, eerie and haunting and their best number.

 

We got drinks in then – all on water by 6 p.m. on Friday evening! Actually, I lied, we weren’t all on water, Ady was chugging away as usual…! Then into the Skyline Arena for THE PIGEON DETECTIVES, an intriguing post-millennial addition to the Shiiine On roster of acts. I’d liked them fine a few years back, would have seen them “live” at the Oasis back in 2007 were it not for a Hold Steady gig being rescheduled for that day, but lost interest in their later, more “landfill indie” releases. However, they were a pretty apposite band for a burgeoning festival, lead singer Matt Bowman a tousle-haired, mic-juggling and energetic stage presence (albeit modelling his post-lockdown home baking body, as most of us are actually!), rabble rousing and energising the crowd into laddish singalongs of their repetitively catchy, knockabout, almost cockernee-sounding (despite hailing from Leeds!) indie pop. The “Teenage Kicks”-like riff and terrace chant hook of “Going Out” was the first proper roof-raising singalong of the Shiiine On weekend, with a rollicking, high-jumping “Take Her Back” and the rather excellent actually “I’m Not Sorry” a fine double whammy to end a better than expected set, during which I was admittedly slightly distracted by a bloke wearing an inflatable pig costume (!), and another guy asking to take a photo of my white creeper shoes (“they’re proper mint, mate!”) !!

 

THE CORAL, next up, were more Shiiine On debutants, with early numbers “When It’s Gone” and “In The Morning” breezy and whimsically folksy numbers. However I’m not a fan, and their somewhat gossamer music seemed a little lightweight after the Pigeon Detectives’ more robust fayre, plus my knees were aching, so I sought refuge in Hotshots bar, finding a seat next to a nice bloke called Mike and chatting about England’s footy game against Alabnia (as the Butlins’ poster called the National Team’s opponents tonight!). T’was 5-0 at half time with a scorching Kane scissor kick the best of the bunch, plus my knee recovered, so we headed back in for headliners FEEDER. Another band I liked fine and saw a bunch of times around 20 years ago without really getting heavily into them… they’ve always operated in similar territory to bands I’ve liked more (hooky heavy post-grunge but not as good as Foo Fighters, chunky guitar singalongs but not as good as Weezer, spritely energetic riff-heavy indie but not as good as Ash, you get the idea…), so I was intrigued rather than enthused by their headliner status here, hoping they’d deliver a Shed Seven-type of revelation. Taking the stage to the Spaghetti Western theme to “The Good, The Bad And The Ugly”, their slow-burn opener “Feeling A Moment” nonetheless got the crowd going with some anthemic “who-hoo”s, although their second number was abandoned due to bass problems, vocalist Grant Nicholas looking visibly agitated as he admitted to us, “we’re trying to sort out a couple of things…” Fears about a set-long Lightning Seeds-like issue were soon allayed, with a subsequent “California” a proper banger, and “Fear Of Flying” an excellent companion piece to Ash’s “A Life Less Ordinary” and a personal set highlight, heralding a sorting of the sound. After a jumpabout “Buck Rogers”, however, the set for me descended into a swathe of alright-ness – good honest indie rock, no doubt, but unremarkable and a bit samey. A strong finish was called for, and actually the boys delivered; old school proto grunger “Insomnia” and a proper first-album delve for the languid singalong of “High” was then followed by an anthemic “Seven Days In the Sun” and set finale, the messy but utterly banging amphetamine rush of “Just A Day”. Finishing 20 minutes over time (!), Feeder, whilst hardly being that Shed Seven-style reinvention (the earnest, serious Grant Nicholas lacking Rick Witter’s overt swagger), delivered a good set that ended splendidly and yeah, were pretty much worthy headliners, even to my cynical ears. Well done boys.

 

So as festivities ended in the Main Arena, we joined the queue for Centre Stage, hitting this large ballroom venue midway through THE SHAKES. They for me sounded an unrehearsed and messy early 90’s Manc nasal noise, and clearly nowhere near as good as they thought they were, definitely misplaced arrogance in my book. Going down well with this buoyant, slightly drunken crowd, so hey, what do I know, but for me? No great Shakes! This bumped us up to 11, Rach surprisingly turning in at this point, but Matt and myself (having also lost Ady at this point) sticking around for Stone Roses tribute band THE CLONE ROSES. I was never a massive Roses fan, so this quickly turned into a bit of a trial for me, the Clones covers veering between passable and often disappointingly insipid and understated. “Waterfall”’s plangent guitar work was OK and “This Is The One” the best sounding of the set for me, but “Fools Gold” was flat and dull and “She Bangs The Drums” disappointingly thin. And then we got a drum solo! A fucking drum solo! The drummer must own the van, methinks. After that bloated self-indulgence, I was done for the day, heading back to the apartment at this overlong set’s conclusion at 12.30, with “Just A Day” ringing in my ears!

 

What turned out to be a landmark Day 2 started with a fried breakfast, this time mainly provided by my dear lady wife! Then off with Rach and Matt to Splash Waterworld for the pool party, which initially started OK with some vintage 60’s stuff (Doors, Them, Motown deep cuts etc.), but then got all 90’s Technotronic! So I did some lengths before cutting it short, heading back to the apartment for a rest, then meeting Ady at the Inn On The Green (quiet early doors, pretty much everyone being up in Centre Stage for Stones And Roses, whom by all accounts were a band I’d have utterly loathed!) and running into Dave, Gareth and the rest of the Abstraction Engine lads, also here for the weekend. UTOPIATES, who were a baggy bag of ol’ shite, and THE ROOM, who were doomy and a bit dull, formed a distant backdrop for our chatting, but I was 1000% all in for the next act…

 

The lads from MIDWAY STILL had turned up earlier to load in, and happily drummer Dec Kelly recognised me from their recent (I say recent, I mean back in 2005 and 2010!) Swindon reunion gigs. They then took a bench out on the Green and after a suitable interval (and prompted by Ady!), I popped over to join them, enjoying a convivial conversation with the fine gentlemen of The Still, centring around my brother’s recent illness and the fucked-up post-Covid world we’re all still trying to get accustomed to. I’d also mentioned that my next set-list would be my 900th , at which point they mentioned they didn’t have one for their set (!), then vocalist Paul Thomson duly wrote an impromptu one up on the back of a receipt, giving it to bassist Russell Lee for safe keeping onstage, as he had the best eyesight!

 


Thus buoyed, I grabbed a bit of barrier for The Still’s late entrance at 4.30, in front of a respectable crowd which, with my crew, the AE boys plus old mate Steve and his wife Caz, included 10 Swindonians (!). The self-effacing Thomson warned us to, “brace yourselves,” before kicking into galloping opener “Counting Days”, which was driven at a supersonic, Ramones-like pace by Kelly’s forceful, propulsive drums. “Sound OK?” inquired Thomson, to which some wag down the front (OK, me…) shouted, “more guitar!”, which was duly delivered during a looser yet tougher sounding “I Won’t Try” (their debut; “Single Of The Week in the NME, and it’s been downhill since then!” quipped Thomson, ironically). However, the subsequent “Daynight” took a couple of attempts to start, sounding thin and understated throughout, Thomson ultimately calling a halt and abandoning it midway through with an, “it’s not working…”. Uh oh…

 


Actually, this proved an utter, if unexpected masterstroke, as the subsequent “What You Said” was magnificent, bristling, venomous and visceral, setting a ridiculously high bar which the rest of the set nonetheless lived up to in spades. Their Husker Du/ early Lemonheads/ Buffalo Tom/ Dinosaur Jr. US proto grungy popcore noise (which would have been right at home in seminal 80’s Boston venue The Rat!) always took on another dimension “live” back in the day, and on the evidence of this afternoon, time thankfully hasn’t dimmed The Still’s fire. “Jamie And Gigi” was as superb as I’d ever heard it, Thomson’s languid vocal inflections almost recalling a young Dando, and “Better Than Before”, one of my favourite tracks ever to dance to at Levs in the 90’s, was fulsome, powerful and infectiously catchy. Some bloke (not me this time) shouted out, “Fucking mint! End of!” at its conclusion, a buoyed Thomson replying, “that is correct!”, and I think we all felt that way. But the best was saved for last… a savage, snarling cover of MBV’s seminal “You Made Me Realise” was punctuated during the mid-song feedback-fest by The Still segueing in the whole of a rampaging, undulating and utterly incendiary “Come Down”. Just awesome; this afternoon the 3 reprobates of The Still delivered what I term an “American Hi-Fi” moment – not note-perfect in any way, but as raw, ragged, exciting and essential as rock’n’roll gets, reducing me to a sweaty, aching, gabbling mess along the way – and in the process not only easily swept the Band Of The Weekend honours (yeah, already!) but may have delivered my favourite Shiiine On set ever. Yes, ever!

 

After that, I was glad for a break in the proceedings – with no interest in the Skyline shenanigans over the next few hours (never been a fan of The Farm, despite “All Together Now” being an anthem for Shiiine On, particularly this year, and as for Black Grape, well, I know from experience that anything involving the Salford Village Idiot is going to be utter carnage and not worth my time…), I headed back to the apartment, gratefully logging into Sky Go to watch the Brazilian GP Sprint Race! A much-needed rest and some eats later, I was back out for 8ish, aiming to go deep tonight and catching up with the crew for CAST’s Skyline Arena headliner set. Never my cup of jangle back in the day, I’ve seen Cast both deliver dull and relatively Alright (pardon the pun) sets here in the last few years; unfortunately this one veered to the former, with a dreadfully plodding opener, a subsequent “Sandstorm” and almost jolly “Fine Time” double better, but the subsequent set descending into a sluggish and stodgy acoustic strumalong plod. I was thinking, less like their evident heroes The Beatles, more like the turgid likes of 70’s folk rock staples Fairport Convention! Yikes! So after half an hour, I took the advice of “Walk Away”, and escaped to Hotshots for a sit down!

 


Cast were done at 10, at which point my crew headed to Reds for Neds (Acoustic this time), but not being a fan, I was off to the Inn On The Green, and a revelation… CANDY OPERA, a Liverpool 80’s band who totally passed me by back in the day, eased into their set with a languid “See It Through Your Eyes”, which positively oozed well-constructed blue-eyed soulful 80’s songwriting, variously recalling Lloyd Cole, Prefab Sprout and the much overlooked The Big Dish! Subsequent numbers evoked a 60’s, almost Motown feel aligned with some Lou Reed-like laconic cool (a point I made to vocalist Paul Malone afterwards, his reply being, “Lou Reed and Motown? That’s us!”), some more upbeat, hooky pop stuff (viz. “Crash” and a rockabilly-inflected, almost Woodentops-like “#Text Delete”), and one bona fide powerpop anthem in “These Days Are Ours” (Malone commenting, “this was played at Anfield, which was a bit of a problem for me [as an Evertonian]!”). A fine, intelligently crafted set, and kudos to the band for handing out free t-shirts at its’ conclusion!

 


A quick trip back to the apartment to dump my free tee and £5 CD, enjoying a conversation with Malone about Liverpool rock on the walk back (“You saw Pete Wylie recently? Isn’t he fat!!”), then a chat with Steve and Caz at the back of the Inn on my return, subsequently missing all but the last, tambourine-led number from THE WALTONES, but I was joined by my crew for THE CHESTERFIELDS, on at ¼ to midnight. A “live” staple of mine back in the mid-80’s (usually whilst drunk, with Rich, and in London), I’d also seen this new, ersatz line-up a couple of years back (Sept 2019, gig 1,153), feeling that at that time they’d done full justice to their history and the legacy of sadly departed main vocalist Davey Goldsworthy. Tonight, unfortunately, was a little different; whether down to the sound, the mix, the understated, almost polite delivery, whatever, not sure, but these spritely jangle-pop songs of my youth initially sounded limp, tired and disappointingly flat, with Helen’s vocal’s, which worked well at The Louisiana a couple of years ago, sounding somewhat jarring. A chugging, swayalong “Goodbye Goodbye” threatened to improve matters, but ironically, it was a slow newie that turned things around; “Songbird”, written in homage to Davey and featuring a list of their 80’s contemporaries and influences (glad to hear the excellent Bodines getting a namecheck!) was plaintive and heartfelt, and “Ask Johnny Dee” was excellent, easily the best sounding of the set. “Completely And Utterly”, racier and pacier, was also a fine-sounding end to a curate’s egg of a set, but one which at least ended well. I’m not giving up on them yet…

 


Into the expanded Reds for the first time this weekend for me, for the last number by the popular DEJA VEGA, pulling the second of their double shift by covering for the late-withdrawing Bentley Rhythm Ace. Unfortunately said number was one-note, monotone, one dimensional and interminably long, and a real trial by ordeal, my knees and sides properly aching by now. But I was determined to get to 1 a.m. and tonight’s denouement, THOUSAND YARD STARE… vocalist Stephen addressed us as, “the final stragglers – more power to you, and we’re your prize!” on his arrival onstage, then kicked into chugging newie “When It Sparks”, before the ebullient, jet-propelled funky drummer bounce of oldie “Buttermouth” and a harder-edged newie “Upping Sticks”. No apples this time (!), but once again Stephen was a curiously captivating frontman, pacing the stage like an expectant father, all nervous energy and off-mic rambling and chanting, the band racing through TYS’ trademark energetic indie jangle behind him. A slower burn, almost plaintive “Seasonstream” was a mid-set highlight, before the inevitable frantic “0-0 After Extra Time” (“after all these years – no one has scored!”) and oldie “Wonderment” concluded another very fine TYS Shiiine set, well worth staying up for!

 

The gang were however determined to make it to the end of Steve Lamacq’s Indie Disco, however; I stuck it until 2.30, by which time everything South of my non-existent belly-button was so sore, it was all I could do to hobble back slowly and painfully to the apartment, thankful both for my bed and for the post-Still rest earlier this afternoon. The gang made it to 4 a.m. though – kudos to them!

 


A fitful and achey night however still saw me feeling better for Day 3, which started slowly, then saw us wandering into town on a positively balmy sun-kissed November Sunday for a tasty Carvery roast lunch at The Hairy Dog! So the entertainment started late for us, with Centre Stage hosts REPUBLICA at 3. Like most people here, I only know a couple of Republica numbers, neither of which I was inclined to sit through swathes of buoyant but samey electronic pop to get to, despite vocalist Saffron’s enthusiastic and ebullient performance, easily the best thing about this band. 3 numbers in, I was done and into the Skyline Arena for DODGY, who were not as knockabout or trite as I’d feared, instead impressing with some chunky 60’s influenced sweeping pop, with an early “So Let Me Go Far” a decent hooky choon, and “Staying Out For The Summer” a breezy and unexpectedly harmonic delight. Late replacements for The Bluetones, they joked about this state of affairs (“who you gonna call? Dodgy!”) whilst entertaining more than Mark Morris’ plodding and anodyne mob would’ve done… Unfortunately, a schedule clash saw me abandon them midway through, instead repairing to The Inn On The Green, putting up with some late-running chap with an acoustic guitar leading the crowd through some singalong Britpop staples, before former Inspiral Carpets vocalist TOM HINGLEY, erm, did the same actually! However, his were all Carpets songs, initially delivered with lots of bawdy, self-effacing humour (“I’ve had a couple of ciders so this is going to be shit!” and “I’m going to play songs by Metallica – in Polish…” were 2 early Hingley remarks…) and no little heart (a rousing singalong “This Is How It Feels” dedicated to those lost in recent times). Thereafter it all started to get a bit silly, however, Hingley downing a pint in one before a throwaway version of my favourite Inspirals number “Move”, and I was happy to wander back to catch the final numbers of Dodgy’s set before my anticipated Highlight Of The Day!

 


Rach and I had run into the impressive monolith that is Mark Burgess on our way to the Inn On The Green earlier, pausing for a pic with the man and informing how much I was looking forward to THE CHAMELEONS’ Skyline Arena set later that afternoon. So, no surprise then that I was on the barriers, front and centre, for this one, in a buoyant mood which was aided in no small measure by the Arena DJ playing some obscure indie classics from Easterhouse, Comsat Angels, The Mighty Lemon Drops and Killing Joke! Totally appropriate mood-setters for The Chameleons, then, Burgess leading his charges onstage, spot on at 4.35. From the off they were amazing; opener “A Person Isn’t Safe Here Anymore” sounded dark, deep, rich, resonant and uncommonly good, with an undercurrent of bristling menace leading into the hook “man of steel”, which echoed around the arena. An early “Monkeyland”, all stretched and creepy slow burn early doors, built the atmosphere to an intense level before popping like a cork with the strident “just a trick of the light” hook, and an unexpected “Intrigue In Tangiers” was a windswept and anthemic stomper. “Caution” was icy, languid and somnambulant, meandering brilliantly along its’ 7 minute length, before the tumbling, intricate riffery of “Swamp Thing” topped even that, Burgess and the band deliberately slowing this and other numbers down to give them extra drama and gravitas. A joyous “Second Skin” rounded off a quite brilliant set, probably better than their 1 a.m. Reds set which earned them 2018 Band Of The Weekend honours that year, the Skyline Arena stage lending their material a greater sense of widescreen power and majesty. The stuff dreams are made of, indeed! A welcome cherry on the cake was my friend the DJ sorting me out a set-list (most other Arena lists being hoovered up quickly and apparently chucked in a bin backstage by some ignorant new roadie – bah!) – nice work!

 


A tough act to follow for me, then, but old Jamie Wednesday and Carter USM mate JIM BOB, along with his band The Hoodrats, gave it the old college try, impressing with a sturdy selection of poppy recent material and old Carter USM “beatbox battlehymn” numbers, which actually sounded pretty good given the full band treatment. Good to hear the jovial sea shanty wordplay of “Prince In A Pauper’s Grave” (which appeared on my one Jamie Wednesday set-list from gig 78, waaaay back in 1987!), the tough and dramatic polemic of “Bloodsport For All”, and rousing set closer “The Only Living Boy In New Cross”, rounding off an unexpectedly fine set. Bring the band again next time, Jim!

 


This led us beyond 7 p.m., into the last couple of laps of Shiiine On for another year, and to Rachel’s potential highlight. Another slightly surprising “recent” band addition to the Shiiine On band pool, Scotland’s GLASVEGAS, despite increasingly patchy follow-ups to their stunning 2007 debut album, had always impressed mightily “live”, so hopes were high for this one. We weren’t to be disappointed; despite a fairly sparse turnout around our usual spot (in front of the tent stanchion, house right, near the stage) Glasvegas were “on it” from the off, a deliciously mournful and affecting “Flowers And Football Tops” giving chills down the spine of all and sundry, then an epic “World Is Yours” was shimmering and shining with its Jesus And Mary Chain meets Cocteau Twins guitar dynamics. Overall, this was a superb study in rock’n’roll insouciance from the band, and particularly vocalist James Allen, who, with his heavily accented vocals and black-clad cool, should by all rights be now be as respected as a Strummer or McCulloch, I really believe that… A heartfelt cover of “Be My Baby” (“my favourite song ever – my fiancee’s over there – this one’s for her,” announced Allen) sounded splendid and entirely in context; “Go Square Go” got the crowd singing along to the rambunctious “here we fuckin’ go!” hook, but it was the final double whammy of “Lots/ Sometimes”, starting all deep and mournful and accelerating into chaotic and dramatic punk rock, and a stunning “Daddy’s Gone”, sounding both epic and bleakly personal at the same time, which were the highlights of another sparkling Glasvegas set. Woah. And we’re seeing this lot at The Thekla next February…!

 


One to go for us, and none more fitting to close out things (well, maybe the strangely absent Wonder Stuff…) than PETER HOOK AND THE LIGHT. On in front of a packed final day crowd to the sound of Kraftwerk’s “Trans Europe Express” and sporting a Christmas “Baa Humbug” tee (“as you can see I’m in a festive mood”), Hooky’s set took a couple of numbers to bed in, an early “She’s Lost Control” edgy and claustrophobic yet thin, with “Transmission” the first number to really take dramatic flight. Dispensing with a clutch of Joy Division numbers early on, Hooky then moved into New Order territory with a ringing, haunting and resonant “Ceremony”, which was probably my overall set highlight; however a subsequent “Regret” and particularly “Crystal” were overlong and not particularly great, “Love Vigilantes” welcome but a little thin sounding as well, and “Blue Monday” sounded rushed. “Perfect Kiss”, by contrast, was great, absorbing and full-on effects-wise, and “Temptation” was a brilliant, bubbling indie dance delight.

 

“Two years of weird shit – I’m so fucking glad we’re still here, and you’re still here!” roared Hooky before a brilliantly fitting communal singalong to “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, ending his fine if initially patchy sounding set – and the musical aspects of Shiiine On, for us at least – on a suitably fitting and high note. That was it for us – back to the apartment for a good night’s sleep, checking out Monday morning at 9.30 and swiftly driving home. Another splendid Shiiine On in the books then; this one a little less manic than recent times, drinkies-wise, but for me featuring a bona fide all-time classic set, thanks to those punk rock reprobates from Midway Still. And hopefully we won’t have to wait 2 years to Shiiine On again!

 

SHERIFF’S SHIIINE ON SELECTION

 

Friday Best – FEEDER

Saturday Best – MIDWAY STILL (you had to ask?)

Sunday Best – THE CHAMELEONS

Overall – 1. MIDWAY STILL, 2. THE CHAMELEONS, 3. GLASVEGAS

Best New Band (if you can call a near-40 year old band “New”, that is…) – CANDY OPERA

We Can Be Heroes – MY CREW (as ever), THE GENTLEMEN OF THE STILL, MARK BURGESS, PETER HOOK, JAMES ALLEN, THE SUNDAY ARENA DJ, THE GUY IN THE PIG OUTFIT (who apparently smuggled a condom costume into the Arena on a later day…!), THE HAIRY DOG CHEFS!

Tuesday, 27 November 2018

1,112 THE 2018 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 16th – Sunday 18th November 2018



 
Back again for “Shiiine On” Part 3, although our third visit down to Minehead’s Butlins holiday camp for this annual Festival extravaganza, primarily celebrating the UK Indie/ Dance landscape of the 80’s and 90’s, nearly didn’t happen, for me at least… Our “core four” from last year enjoyed it so much, that we planned the 2018 return visit pretty much as soon as the initial headliner was announced, that being Shed Seven, who delivered a surprisingly (for me at least, again!) excellent headlining set on Saturday in 2016. Anticipating a further slew of more guitar-based acts to follow in Witter’s mob’s wake, we immediately booked our repeat attendance, only to recoil in horror when a more comprehensive bill was announced. Packed full of crappy baggy and trancey dance acts (Stereo MCs, Orbital), dull landfill Britpop (Ocean Colour Snore, and yes, I got their name right…) and again the ubiquitous Madchester village idiot Shaun Ryder, back again to make another wasted numpty of himself albeit with Black Grape this time, I seriously considered cancelling. I mean, it doesn’t say much for a bill when my 3rd most anticipated act was the REM tribute band! However, my cohorts persuaded me otherwise, emphasising that there’s generally more to “Shiiine On” than just the acts themselves, and a bit of pre-Fest investigation revealed another, previously (criminally) ignored potential musical highlight for me, so it was all on again!
There were some late shenanigans involving us changing booking to accommodate a 5th member (which Butlins laudably did at no extra cost), then said 5th dropping out at very short notice, so Rich drove just myself and Rach down on Friday morning, hitting the ‘head just after 1. Met Matt, our 4th member, for some provision shopping then the traditional seafront chippy lunch before booking into our accommodation. Thanks to us changing bookings, we had a smart 3-bedroom silver chalet. Nice! So, stuff dumped and loins girded, we headed off to the arena about 4-ish for the start of musical festivities. SALAD were first up for us, on at 4.30, statuesque ginger former MTV VJ Marijne Van De Vlugt leading her charges through a “best of” set of their pretty decent actually girly-fronted indie pop. I was actually surprised at how much of their material I remembered (the undulating tango rhythm of “Motorbike To Heaven”, the morose grunge of “Diminished Clothes” and lilting chorus of “Granite Statue”), although not as surprised as when Marijne introduced her band, featuring on drums, Julian Cope’s former 80’s wingman Donald Ross “Donneye” Skinner! Their final, best number “Drink The Elixir” had a false start due to a guitar issue, but was a metronomic Stereolab-style groove with a discordant climax. A reasonably good start actually, which would actually stack up pretty well when compared to similar acts later this evening… Plenty of room to move about in the arena at this stage, unlike the hordes here for Jim Bob last year! MY LIFE STORY, next up, plied a trade midway between widescreen 60’s cinema soundtracks, knockabout Kinks-ish mod and throwaway Britpop, with 3rd number “Motorcade” still their finest hour by far. Jake Shillingford, resplendent in a check suit, was an ostentatious and slightly pretentious, but evidently crowd-pleasing performer, and some later numbers had the slightly faded grandeur of early Pulp, although their “All The Young Dudes” rip-off was more than a bit blatant.


I took time out to call Evan, then we bumped into Bath “Gin Window” buddies Kate and Ashley before SLEEPER, on at 7. Louise Wener sported a “Super Her” t-shirt in front of her Sleeperblokes, but despite a racy early “Pyrotechnician”, the sound was initially thin and took time to bed in. Their best number, “Delicious” was sadly lost to the poor sound, all discordant and a bit of a mess, but the singalong, breathy “What Do I Do Now” was fuller and punchier, heralding a sea change in the sound. Wener, the indie sex kitten turned soccer mom, pranced and preened onstage to the crowd’s delight as her and her band’s confidence grew, and they even chanced a new number, the glam strut of “Look At You Now” and threw in a “Satellite Of Love” lyric vignette into the subsequent “Peaky”. Set highlight by far, however, was their rendition of “Atomic” (“this one’s on “Trainspotting”, the bit where everyone’s shagging people they’re not supposed to shag,” announced a lascivious Louise), all pulsing and pulsating disco brilliance and the best sounding song of the weekend so far. By singalong closer “Sale Of The Century”, a big moshpit was bouncing along, so they’ll no doubt look back on this as a triumph; justifiably so, as it was some way better than when I last saw them (a dispirited 1998 Swindon Oasis showing, gig 368), although the numbers I’ll remember most from this set weren’t theirs…

The arena was quite busy by now, and the theme tune from “The Magnificent Seven” appropriately heralded the entrance of SHED SEVEN, prompt at 8.30. “The fun starts right here!” announced rakish, rock-star skinny vocalist Rick Witter after lugubrious opener “Room In My House”, introducing his brass section and giving them some well-natured shit-talking at the same time! “Where Have You Been Tonight” was the first real anthem of the weekend, Witter acting as mass singalong conductor with his usual swaggering confidence, and the blood-red lit “Dolphin” was a delight of slashing guitar and heads-down, no nonsense groovy rhythm with a lengthy, dramatic climax. Seahorses vocalist Chris Helme (whose solo set we’d missed earlier) joined the band on a swayalong “High Hopes”, then Witter quipped, “we’re talking about a new album… release date 2034!” before newie “People Will Talk”.

This was a more sprawling, slightly less focussed set than the bang-bang-hit-after-hit headlining performance 2 years ago, Witter also taking time to read out some twitter dedications (“if this bit’s boring, stop fucking tweeting me!”), but no less fun overall. Also, when Witter and the Sheds concentrate on the hits (a bolshy, shouty “Friday”, featuring the closing section of The Stone Roses’ “I Am The Resurrection”, a racey and superb “Bully Boy” and the epic closer “Chasing Rainbows”, f’rinstance), they’re the ideal headliners for an event like this, and Witter is a captivating performer with a larger than life personality – not bad for a skinny little fucker. A bit surprising that I took so long to get on board with Shed Seven, but they smashed it again, this being Friday’s best set by some considerable distance.
 
That was it for the main arena, so we grabbed a cuppa and a breather at the chalet before heading back into Centre Stage, the largest of the other venues, catching HELEN LOVE’s somewhat amateurish, DIY final number. THE DARLING BUDS were next up at 11.30, their first couple of numbers sounding wispy and insubstantial (and a little out of key too from singer Andrea Lewis). “I Don’t Mind” was however tighter, tougher and wah-wah infused, and Andrea greeted us with a Ruth Madoc homage of, “hi de hi campers,” before the fizzy “Hit The Ground”. Thereafter it drifted for me – a lot – with their 60’s-influenced girl pop innocuous and a whole mess of mediocre really, and I passed the time wondering whether Andrea, flapping her bingo wings furiously, might end up taking off. God, I’m such a bitch…! “It’s All Up To You” and set closer “Burst” were by far their best numbers – also the ones that sounded the most like 80’s DIY all-girl noiseniks The Shop Assistants. Odd, that…

Still, if the Buds were just mediocre, they were aural ambrosia compared to THE PRIMITIVES, on at a red-eyed 1 am. From the off they were utterly dire; a disjointed opener sounded thin, out-of-tune and very poor, and diminutive vocalist Tracey, sporting a Bacofoil dress and rather unfortunately resembling Theresa May, couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket. It actually took me at least halfway through the second number to even recognise it was “Stop Killing Me”, one of my favourite Prims tunes, shorn of all its’ dynamism and buzzsaw guitar. “Sick Of It All” was equally terribly ham-fisted so we got the hell out of dodge, and into Jaks for the last knockings of THE TRAIN SET’s passable 80’s indie rock fayre. At least they played in time and could hold a tune, which put them several steps above the Primitives! We pondered this on the walk back to the chalet – maybe The Prims were always shit, and poor 80’s “live” sound systems masked their deficiencies. Either way, they were well and truly exposed tonight!


Day 2 dawned with a late and lazy lie-in and a “Big Man Special” breakfast, prior to our first music of the day, in Reds just after lunchtime. Oddly enough for us, this was a couple of tribute acts! Even odder, it was a couple of tribute acts for US bands! First up, HEY! PIXIES, a Pixies tribute act (No. Really??!!) from Stoke, were actually great, allaying any fears I’d had about their ability to replicate Joey Santiago’s unique, savage guitar licks and Black Francis’ commanding vocals with a full, dynamic and thoroughly authentic set. The music at least… between songs, the tall, blond vocalist was a damn sight chattier than the usually non-communicative Mr. Thompson, and funny with it – quipping, “if you’ve not seen The Pixies, Frank Black doesn’t look like a cross between Myra Hindley and Paul O’Grady,” assuring us, “if you don’t know The Pixies, this is EXACTLY how they sound!” and lavishing praise on the backstage facilities (“you know you’ve made it when you’ve got towels backstage!”). And musically, they pretty much nailed every song, with “Nimrod’s Son”, a brilliantly chugalong “Head On” and the excellent, sinister segue between “Cecilia Ann” and “Allison” my personal highlights. Either way, a resounding triumph, as I remarked to the grateful vocalist afterwards. Well done folks!

After an interminable soundcheck which delayed their set by 20 minutes, STIPE were next up, an REM tribute band I’d seen and enjoyed last year at Level 3. Quite a contrast to the relaxed delivery of Hey! Pixies, Stipe were a study in authenticity, their vocalist assuming the moves and persona of idiosyncratic REM frontman Michael Stipe, including addressing the large crowd in a passable imitation of Stipe’s halting tones. Like REM, their set was constructed to please both casual punter and true fan, so I totally adored tracks such as an early “Gardening At Night” and a later “Radio Free Europe” whilst acknowledging they likely meant little to most of the audience. The likes of “Losing My Religion”, a stunning “Orange Crush” and a singalong “Imitation Of Life” (their imitation of “IOL”, according to the vocalist!) however, went down well, and closer “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” was easily the set highlight.

I left the folks to the main arena stuff at this point, and headed down to a packed Inn On The Green, where KINGMAKER (FOR A DAY) were just kicking off their set, slightly late at 4pm. Two thirds of the early 90’s Hull Indie jesters, this, they were unfortunately lacking their most important original member, vocalist Loz Hardy, and the replacement frontman was seriously bereft of Hardy’s charisma and flippant patter. A distinctly average “Two Headed Yellow Bellied Hole Digger” featured the chorus hook, “soon she’ll be inspired”, but this was far from inspiring; the upbeat dynamism of “When Lucy’s Down” was by far the best number in a workmanlike set.

The place emptied after that! Clearly a number of punters hadn’t done the pre-Fest research that I had on the next act… I’d slightly passed on DIESEL PARK WEST back in the day, remembering them as an okay-ish slightly-delic 80’s guitar band, who became quickly out of step with the likes of Madchester, shoegaze and subsequently early 90’s grunge, and had kind of ignored them since. After their addition to this bill, however, I rather absent-mindedly picked up a cheap copy of their “Best Of” CD, “Left Hand Band” and found it replete with easy melody, honey-throated harmonies and gorgeous late 60’s West Coast psychedelia inflections, similar to the likes of late Teenage Fanclub and Gigolo Aunts, even. I was well up for this one, then, taking a spot on the barriers as the band set up. Opener “Let It Melt” was however a startling opener, a new number featuring some old school R&B rhythms a la Dr. Feelgood, and surprisingly snarly vocals courtesy of trenchcoated Catweazle vocalist John Butler. “Pictures” continued this rootsy, Stones-like vein before the plangent picking of “Here I Stand” offered another dimension to the DPW sound. “Golden Mile” was optimistically introduced by Butler as, “a song about ageing – nothing you can do about it… except die…!”, but then “Like Princes Do” was fantastic, a tough-sounding galloping psych rock workout. The off-kilter growl of “When The Hoodoo Comes” ended the set proper, although time thankfully allowed for an unplanned “All The Myths On Sunday”, the tumbling harmonic hook causing me to lose my voice a little as I sang raucously along. Great stuff overall, from a band I now clearly need to make up for lost time on…

Starting now! I grabbed a list from a passing Butler then got it signed by his three bandmates; the vocalist himself had disappeared “backstage” so guitarist Rich Barton invited me back to complete the collection! Grabbed said signature, plus some pix and quick compliments with an accommodating band, after a circuitous journey through the bowels of Butlins. Nice! Thus buoyed, I wandered back in to meet the crew in the main arena at 6 for THE RIFLES’ mainstage set. They were an ok, slightly lightweight and largely forgettable Britpoppy/ 60’s influenced band who wouldn’t have sounded out of place in either the late 80’s or mid-90’s – odd then that they date from the mid-2000s! Their best number also had more than a passing resemblance to the taut rhythms of The Cure’s “Boys Don’t Cry”.

And that was it, for a few hours at least! No way was I going to subject myself to another Ryder car-crash, so I grabbed some tea and made good on my pre-Fest promise/ threat to go back to the chalet and watch “Strictly”! I was later joined by my dear lady wife Rachel and we popped over to Kate and Ashley’s chalet, Rach enjoying a couple of vodkas there before wandering back for the last knockings of OCEAN COLOUR SCENE. Strangely (to my ears at least), they attracted easily the biggest crowd of the weekend, with roaring singalongs to their cover of The Beatles’ “Day Tripper” and their own “The Day We Caught The Train”. A real crowd-pleaser this… can’t see it, to my ears they just sound bland and dull. Shortly afterwards, as the arena emptied, a drunkenly dancing Rach was by now showing signs of needing an early-ish night, so we all popped back to the chalet for food, and I eventually persuaded Rach to hit the hay. Stayed there to settle her down as the boys headed off for EMF, but I had other plans…

Back out into the inky blackness and freezing cold at 20 to 1, and off to Reds, catching the last number of THE GODFATHERS set, “Birth School Work Death”. Still don’t like them, but hey, I wasn’t here for them… Grabbed some barrier, front and centre, as my short-odds pre-Festival favourites hooked up for their 1 am. set. And gladly, CHAMELEONSVOX completely and utterly lived up to their billing and my hopes; from the off they sounded superb, opener “Don’t Fall” all seethingly dark and dramatic, “A Person Isn’t Safe Here Anymore” (dedicated, as ever, to the memory of Sophie Lancaster by mainman Mark Burgess, after he’d greeted us with an ironic, “good morning”) poignant and heart-wrenching (“what kind of times are these,” indeed…) and featuring some beautifully textural guitar work, and “Looking Inwardly” tense and taut, with the guitars here chiming and ringing out resonantly. The set was perfectly chosen – I’d probably liked to have squeezed in “Up The Down Escalator” but that aside, all my favourites were in – and punctuated with a number of lyrical nods to the likes of The Doors (“all our leaders are insane”), The Beatles and even The Fall, and the meandering brilliance of “Swamp Thing” was quite magnificent, the best song of the weekend. In fact, as the chiming opening to this number eased in, the bloke next to me put his head down on the barrier as his wife meaningfully rested her hand on his shoulder – when he rose, his eyes were misted over… that’s the effect this band have on its’ devotees, right there.

“Singing Rule Britannia”, featuring snippets of “White Riot”, “Transmission” and even “Rebellious Jukebox” (Burgess was confidently throwing the kitchen sink at this one, no messin’) rounded off the Set Of The Weekend for me, the one worth braving the chill midnight air to witness. I grabbed a list then headed wearily back to my chalet, vindicated by ChameleonsVox, and counting the days until I see them again, next month in Oxford!

Rachel had had a great night’s sleep (you’re welcome, honey!) so was up earlier Sunday than us boys, making us breakfast. Only a light one, though, as we had lunch plans! First, a quick trip over to Inn On The Green for some midday ukulele shenanigans from UKE2, this busking trio again playing Britpop and indie anthems on intertwining ukuleles as a wake-up call for the final day. In all honesty, not so much fun as last year (not so great a song selection either), so we were happy to leave them to it after half an hour, and wander off-site and into town for a big and very tasty carvery Sunday lunch at The Hairy Dog! Excellent!

Back onsite and Rach went off to see the mainstage SENSER. I joined her for a while before being put off by this disjointed, shouty and woefully dated rap/ metal mess, Senser setting a precedent for the final day of sounding like poor imitations of bands I either never liked or lost interest in. I never liked Rage Against The Machine. Luckily Hotshots were showing the second half of the International footy, so I watched that instead, before going back into the arena and enduring STEREO MC’s equally dated crap rap. Didn’t think much of the Beastie Boys, never needed a Sarf London version of them. Still, salvation was at hand…


“‘Avin’ a good time? I’m freezing my tits off [up here]!” the inimitable growl of the greater crested legend that is PETER HOOK with his band, THE LIGHT, today featuring old Wonky Alice sparring partner and erstwhile ChameleonsVox drummist Yves Altana! The equally inimitable growl of a clutch of Joy Division numbers kicked off their 6pm set, all dour, dark, menacing and monochrome, with “Transmission” an early highlight. “Anyone lost control this weekend?” Hooky glibly intoned before the synth snap of “She’s Lost Control” which was also pretty ace, but the overall tone at this stage was generally bleak and introspective. However, the coruscating synth pulse of “Blue Monday” altered all that, heralding a sea change in the set, the dancier, more upbeat and (dare I even say it) joyous New Order material igniting the crowd. “Regret” (“I’ve had a few,” deadpanned Hooky) and the scalding Ibiza disco beat of “Round And Round” were welcome additions to the Light’s canon this year, but once again a brilliant, haunting “Ceremony”, the tremendous pulsating “Temptation”, and the inevitable and lengthy celebratory “Love Will Tear Us Apart” won the day. Hooky knocked it out of the park in some style again, most people going for this brilliant 1 hour and 20 minutes as their Set Of The Weekend (I stuck my neck out and stayed with the Chameleons, but I’ve always been a contrary bugger, me…).

The place actually notably thinned out for the headliners therafter! Trance dance act ORBITAL plied their bleeps and bloops onstage, as we decamped to Costa around the corner for a sit down and chat with Kate and Ashley. The onstage fayre sounded to me like sci-fi film soundtracks – I kind of lost interest in Jean-Michel Jarre in my teens – but according to Matt and Rach, who popped down for a watch, it made more sense with the accompanying visuals of film and slides. Not my stuff though…

Back to the chalet one final time for a cuppa (phew, rock’n’roll festival life, eh?) before girding our loins for the last lap. Into a sparsely populated Centre Stage, where only the truly dedicated and hardy (and utterly pissed) were toughing it out to the bitter end. That meant firstly dealing with former Senseless Thing Mark Keds’ new charges DEADCUTS, on at 11.30. Somewhat of a departure from the brisk indie pop of da Things, this was more slightly proto/goth with stompy bluesy rock inflections, like maybe Piano Wire crossed with The Bolshoi, though nowhere near as good as I just made that sound. Some chunky driving beats propelled some of their numbers, but they were well short on memorable tuneage. Thereafter, old Carter USM back-up guy (if it’s possible to be the back-up guy in a duo!) Les “Fruitbat” Carter joined us with his band ABDOUJAPAROV, who then subjected us to largely tune-free thrashy workouts, featuring lyrics which were seemingly formed by throwing random things together that just happen to rhyme, the less sense they subsequently make the better… I lost interest rather quickly in Half Man Half Biscuit, and this lot seemed a parody of them, or Sultans Of Ping. Their best number was a C&W style Wreckless Eric like ditty featuring a lyric that actually seemed coherent, about monsters in the garden.

But finally we reached the endgame, the reward for our persistence being a solo set from Wonder Stuff mainman MILES HUNT at 12.45. “Good people of “Shiiine On” Weekender! Why the fuck are you still up?!” he quite rightly queried, then gave us a brief synopsis of his premise for his current “Custodian” tour, which we thoroughly enjoyed in Swindon the other week (gig 1,110) and which this date was ostensibly still part of, before announcing to general approval, “but I’m going to skip [the last] 20 years and just do Wonder Stuff material!” Know your audience. Sensible boy!

So, once again we had a chronological acoustic run-through of the career and canon of one of indie rock’s most enduring bands, The Wonder Stuff, delivered by Milo in a relaxed, inclusive and entirely fun manner. We’d heard the accompanying stories a couple of weeks ago but were entertained again all the same, and we and the remaining “Shiiine On” stragglers involved ourselves heartily in the “audience participation” elements of the likes of “Unbearable” and “Ruby Horse”, determined to squeeze the last ounce of enjoyment out of Miles’ set and the weekend in general, and prompting a compliment of, “you people are in fine voice!” from the great man. Miles concentrated on a set of nailed-on crowd-pleasers (the likes of “Piece Of Sky”, “Golden Green” and “Can’t Shape Up” all received warm singalongs and receptions), and I particularly enjoyed “Caught In My Shadow” after its’ omission from the Vic set, as well as his shout out for Peter Hook’s set earlier (“I’ve seen him 3 times in the last 2 years – best gigs I’ve seen in my life!”).

“We’re nearly done now,” Miles eventually announced to a chorus of boos, prompting a rejoinder of, “I thought you’d be like, “we’ve only just turned up [here] out of respect, we’ve been at this for 3 days and we’re fucked!””. A debate about “Size Of A Cow” preceded a fun, knockabout and singalong rendition of the Stuffies’ maybe-millstone number, then I gave a shout out for “Disco King” when Miles asked for what he’d missed, my wish being granted with a superb version. An almost-perfect way to finish off the “Shiiine On” musical festivities – of course the perfect way would’ve been a full on Stuffies band set, a point not lost on Miles as he said his farewells.

Game over! Time to be handed the list by the great man, then off to bed and off home the following morning after a rousing final breakfast. The worst bill of the 3 so far, maybe, but sparkling performances from the likes of Hooky, Milo, The Sheds, Sleeper, the Diesels and particularly ChameleonsVox made it well worthwhile musically for me. Furthermore, my cohorts in crime were utterly right in their assertion that there’s much more to it than the music; a great relaxed vibe, (mainly) spot-on organisation, good friends, good times, a chance to unwind for a kiddie-free weekend by the seaside, and (this year) a bloody good Sunday carvery nosh! I think we’ll check the bill next year before booking, but I’d lay pretty short odds that we’ll be back for another “Shiiine On” in 2019!