1,415 THE 2025 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 14th – Sunday 16th November 2025

 

All back to Butlins again, for the 9^th instalment (for us at least) of the 80’s/ 90’s UK “Indie” Festival Celebration that is “Shiiine On”! As usual, we’d booked onsite at the end of the 2024 weekend, trusting in the organisers that they’d come up with something a little more imaginative than 2024’s rather weak bill. April dawned, and with it a solid, unspectacular but interesting bill announcement, lacking one specific band like a Midway Still or a Chameleons (or even a Stuffies or Hooky) to make me really go “wow!” but definitely an improvement over the previous year, and with a couple of high profile, intriguing debutants. I have to admit, though, despite being an indie music fan of long-standing, I’m not entirely within the “Shiiine On” demographic, having skirted around rather than fully immersed myself in the likes of Madchester and Britpop, so I’m never going to be 100% sold on any bill. Still, this was a relatively good one, and it’s always a great weekend for other reasons too. Now, if only the weather will hold out…

Joining Rachel and I for the trip from the ‘don this year for his first “Shiiine On” was our 18 year old son Logan, so after a last-minute car tyre pressure scare, we loaded the Skoda up and hit the road. So what about my weather hopes? Well, that was the first thing that let us down; torrential double-wiper rain pretty much the whole way – happily, despite standing water on the M5 around Gordano, it didn’t delay us too much, and after a quick stop in Minehead Tesco for provisions, we met Matt at the seafront for the traditional fish’n’chips. Unfortunately, the rain then decided to go biblical on our asses, so lunch was taken huddled in the car! Sarah and fellow first timer niece Liz arrived and we set off to book in, rather stupidly going to the wrong car park entrance, then joining a massive queue in the rain for wrist bands, finding our accommodation was closer to the other car park so moving the car, and finally getting drenched and totally breathless hoying luggage from motor to apartment! So, not the best of starts, all in all…

My drowned rat-ness necessitated a sartorial rethink, so one clothes change later, we were out through mercifully easing precipitation, and into the Skyline Arena for SENSER, first band up at 4.30. Their aggressive sub-Rage Against The Machine rap/ rock stylings and occasional PWEI samplings were well outside my wheelhouse, and at odds with the dual lead singers’ smart mom and pop clothes. I bet they looked waaaay different, back in the day... I recognised belligerent old 90’s Lev fave “Switch” and I liked the anti-corporate sloganeering, but that was about it… unlike our Welsh friend Mel, who proclaimed them his band of the weekend. Yeh, already! 

“Welcome to Rain On!” was the apposite intro from the perennially youthful Mike Edwards of JESUS JONES, next up on the big stage. Always good value for “Shiiine On”, Edwards and his kinetic keyboard player gave an energetic, thrusting performance of their techno-inflected 80’s indie rock/ dance collision, although without the retina-scalding psychedelic fever dream backdrop visuals that accompanied previous sets, it felt a little sludgy and pedestrian in comparison. Still, “Never Enough” was its’ usual racey and pacey self, “International Bright Young Thing” was the first unexpected singalong as the Arena gradually filled with soggy punters, and the rhythmic clatter of “Real Real Real” and stop-start techno-rattle verse and pounding choral hook or set closer and best number “Info Freako” got me throwing a shape or two! 

Having no interest in the hairy old 70’s blues via a Britpop filter of Reef, next up, Logan and I had a break at the apartment via a chat with the Abstraction Engine gents, then back in via a short chat with “Shiiine On” regular Miles Hunt (due up solo tomorrow), and a much lengthier one with voluble Fierce Panda boss (and former 80’s NME journo of note) Simon Williams. Back in place though for current FP signees and tonight’s headliners ASH, the nearest to a sure thing on the bill, having won my 2022 “Band of the Weekend” honours, albeit courtesy of a landmark run-through of “Alternative Ulster” with Therapy?’s Andy Cairns. Opening with Strauss’ “Zarathrustra” (AKA the Apollo theme!), this epic intro was followed up by thunderous newie “Fun People” and the groovy chug of new album title track “Ad Astra”. However, just as I was thinking, new ones, fine, I’m not really up for moshing anyway, the ticking chimes of my fave number, the moshpit catnip of “A Life Less Ordinary”, rang out, and I was away down the front, dragging Logan in my wake… 

The surf-punk harmonies of “Angel Interceptor” and off-kilter cacophonous drum crescendos of “Orpheus” got various folks joining in in an expanding, generally good natured (despite one woman who objected to getting bumped – sorry, love, this is what happens at the rock show…!) mosh, Ash keeping it fully fuelled with a fine set selection of bangers from their now-extensive indie-pop back catalogue. A few newies for good measure as well, the beefed-up calypso cover of “Jump In The Line” (which followed a rocking, Ramones-esque mid-set highlight “Walking Barefoot”) getting the crowd singing along as well. But the final 3 blew the set out of the water; a buzzsaw “Kung Fu”, which saw bassist Mark Hamilton pile into the mosh next to me (!), then the driving anthemic duo of “Girl From Mars” and ringing closer “Burn Baby Burn”, rounding off a breathless mosh-bound first day highlight – as expected from the Ash lads! 

Snagged a set-list, yay! Caught my breath before we headed to an already utterly rammed Centre Stage for CLONE ROSES. I’d not been impressed with them on previous viewings (TBF I’m not a huge Stone Roses fan anyway) and little changed tonight – except maybe the singer being more off-key than previously, and thus more authentic to Ian Brown’s oft-bricklayer karaoke flat tones! So I took a breather, sitting down in the walkway and running into old 80’s mate and “Shiiine On” virgin Leggy, here with my mate Andy. A nice catch up (and lament that the likes of Bauhaus weren’t on the “Shiiine On” bill!!) before we were joined by Logan, then he and I headed off to Reds for their late-night festivities, grabbing a seat by the side of the stage, house left. S*M*A*S*H joined us at 11.30; they’d passed me by in their New Wave Of New Wave 90’s heyday, although by reputation I was expecting some seething and punchy angry punky stuff. However they were much more polite and formulaic New Wave fodder, more Jags than Costello or Strummer (although I liked their “Tommy Gun” outro on the opening number). A mid set number featured some unexpected feedback (“just like the Jesus and Mary Chain,” quipped the singer… hmmm, don’t think so, bud), and later numbers such as “Morphine For The Pain” had more of an NYC CBGB’s/ Iggy bluesy swagger about them, but overall I found them pleasant listening but eminently forgettable, I’m afraid… 

Logan turned in and I toughed out the Listen Up DJ’s who were stinking the place out with some terrible 80’s techno/ rave bollocks, eventually grabbing a barrier spot for final act THE OTHERS, slightly late at 1 a.m. I’d seen them 20 years ago on a Psychedelic Furs undercard when they were another hotly-tipped NME press darling act that never got anywhere (remember Terris, kids?), and I recall liking their New Wave/ Cure taut noise whilst bemoaning the absence of tuneage. However tonight they were much improved, attacking their set with the kind of snarling sneer that I’d expected from S*M*A*S*H. “Lackey”, urgent and claustrophobic, set the tone out of the traps, and “Southern Glow”, next up, featured some Fall-like staccato one-note riffery and a vocal not so much sung as spat out dismissively by wild-eyed singer Dominic Masters, who gave me uneasy Davey McManus (Crocketts/ Crimea) vibes throughout. Newie “Nightmare” from their current, 5^th (!) album, was a galloping hellscape propelled by some dark and sinister keys and guitar licks; oldie “William” featured a strident and anthemic opening riff and a racey “ba ba ba” choral hook, and closer “This Is For The Poor” was a bass driven dark and morose hymn for the downtrodden with a savage chorus. Overlong at nearly an hour (Dominic regularly complaining of his lack of fitness), but The Others were solid Friday “Best of The Rest” after Ash, and a fine way to end Day 1! 

An overcast but mostly dry outlook for Day 2, as we eventually stirred our stumps late morning and Rach rustled up fried breakfast for 6 (we washed up!), mine unfortunately not entirely agreeing with me, I’m afraid… Anyway, eventually off the loo and into Reds for the last knockings of BLACK JACKALS and their bluesy psych pop. A little more emphasis on the groove rather than the tunes for me, but an eminently listenable part-set for starters from this hybrid NYC/ Scouse rabble, their final number recalling The Von Bondies (remember them?) with its’ repetitive “c’mon c’mon” hook. However I was in a barrier spot for an early Saturday highlight, namely IAN PROWSE AND AMSTERDAM, on at 1 p.m. “Good evening, erm, afternoon!” the man announced before his traditional opener, the bullish “Taking On The World”; then the bouncy fiddle-powered good time music of his former charges Pele’s “Megalomania” led into a lengthy and passionate positioning diatribe for an affecting yet uplifting first-pumping singalong to “Dessie Warren”, and a call to talk about one’s mental health before the subsequent “Different Battle”. 

Musically, Prowsey occupies that territory between the folk/ punk rebel music of my long-time faves The Men They Couldn’t Hang and the poppier singalong fiddle touches of “Hup”/ “Elvis” era Stuffies. Lyrically, however, he’s right in Swill and Cush’s corner, with class struggle polemic permeating his work. And he cares, passionately and volubly, coming across as one of the nicest, most sincere blokes in rock, particularly when his roadie Morgo slipped at his feet mid-set! Stark and windswept ballad “Home” (“my favourite song I’ve written,” admitted Prowsey) was just lovely; “Raid The Palace” was a boisterous and rousing “na na na na” singalong powered along by “the fiddle of fire”, Laura McKinley; and one final chant for the fallen (but OK!) Morgo preceded set closer and highlight “Does This Train Stop On Merseyside”. Again, a little cracker of a set from The “Scouse Springsteen”!

It got predictably busier down the front but I kept my barrier spot and Rach joined us for MILES HUNT at 2.30. “The undisputed King of “Shiiine On” is with you!” the man rather accurately proclaimed, “[now] I need you to sing every single fucking word!” “Mission Drive” and “Circle Square” then kicked another all-inclusive and celebratory set of acoustically delivered yet still rousing indie bangers from the breadth of The Wonder Stuff’s impressive first-time-round 4-album canon. Lots of chat and audience interaction too, Miles discarding his shirt then responding to wolf whistles with, “fuck off – I’m 60 next year!”; introducing “Can’t Shape Up” with a reference to bad relationships in his 20’s, “[although I’ve been] single now for 8 years!”; and admitting his younger self was, “also very good at falling out with people!” No shit, Sherlock! 

A welcome run through of Vent 414’s “Fixer” was preceded with a plug for Vent’s support turn for the Stuffies for their forthcoming tour (I’ll be there in London!), then his previous remark returned to haunt him, Miles remarking, “it’s hot as balls! I haven’t been this hot since…” one wag then shouting, “8 years!” The audience fill for a rollicking “Don’t Let Me Down, Gently” was a late highlight, as was the ladies “audience participation” screams during the late “Unbearable”. “Give Give Give” closed out another splendid showing from the King; he might have meant it tongue in cheek, but as I always say, Miles, above all others, totally “gets” “Shiiine On” and gives the punters what they want – every time! 

We cleared out and I paused briefly to check out the psych-blues pop stylings of DREAM MACHINE in the Skyline Arena. They sounded decent enough in a Blossoms-ish way, but nothing was sticking after a couple of numbers, so I headed back to the apartment for a rest in preparation for a busy and possibly late evening. Back into the Skyline Arena for 6 p.m., and late 70’s New Wavers THE UNDERTONES. Still soundchecking when we arrived, they eventually gave the thumbs up and were straight on it, strutting singer Paul McLoone announcing in his soft Irish brogue, “we’re the Undertones and this is an Undertones song…” Sure enough, “Jimmy Jimmy” was said opener, an energetically delivered version of this old pop-punk classic from back when pop-punk meant something other than the likes of Blink and co., and The Undertones only had the Buzzcocks as serious competitors for the throne of short, snappy, buzzsaw fast yet ridiculously infectious earworm pop hookery. That set the tone for a 23-song strong (!) set from 4/5ths of the original Undertones line-up, the singer the only exception to the rule, but delivering the vocals in a similar tight-trousered, high-pitched tone to original voice Fergal Sharkey, albeit without his slightly irksome quaver (I know, I know, but it’s a matter of taste, right?). Happily, most of the set mined that classic first album, a New Wave classic and touchstone for me, and I found myself singing every word to the likes of “Family Entertainment” and the later, excellent “Jump Boys”, despite not having heard them for possibly decades! Predictably, “Teenage Kicks”, stylishly inserted mid-set, was a predictably rousing singalong highlight, but bettered for me a couple of numbers later with a dramatic, drum-propelled best-of-set “When Saturday Comes”. A splendid set rounded off with McLoone deadpanning, “all the people in the bucket hats; I know you’re confused but it’ll soon be over!”, the irresistible choral hook of their finest hour, “Get Over You” ending a breakneck-speed hour of prime New Wave. 

The bucket hats were of course waiting for INSPIRAL CARPETS, on in short order at 7.20 and happily once again to the strains of World Of Twist’s classic “The Storm”. A bullseye as far as the “Shiiine On” demographic is concerned, the Madchester survivors eased in with a low-key (for me) Doors-ish organ fuelled “Dragging Me Down”, before the tumbling backbeat hook and dissonant organ middle-8 of “She Comes In The Fall” precipitated the first of many singalongs from the mooing massive. After 2023’s disappointing set – particularly the performance of original vocalist Stephen Holt, whose softer, more nuanced tones stacked up badly generally to the more strident, overt delivery of the out-of-favour Tom Hingley but which were particularly flat on that occasion – I’d adjusted my expectations accordingly, but I have to admit Holt did a better job tonight. “Let You Down” was a bit muddy and monotonous, but the subsequent “Move” (always a favourite of mine) was melancholy yet uplifting. A messy “Joe” however seemed to suffer with vocal tech issues (either that, or Holt simply forgot the words!), but the elegiac “This Is How It Feels” with its extended acapella singalong from the crowd, was a highlight. The Fall’s much-missed leader Mark E Smith’s distinctive tones were piped in as vocal overlay to a spiky “I Want You”, and after bandleader and organist Clint Boon shoehorned in a couple of additional numbers (“we’re playing so fast!”), the insanely jolly toy organ riff and big hook of “Saturn 5” rounded off a somewhat inconsistent set which at least was better than before. 

We finally caught up with Simon, whose “Shiiine On” attendance this year was unfortunately sporadic due to other commitments, albeit better than our other intended Shiiiner and friend Martin, who had to pull out at short notice due to health reasons. Shame! Well, at least we’re Shiiining for you mate… and ready for a surprise in headliners THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN. Celebrated squalling leathered-up post-punk noiseniks from the 80’s turned scuzzy Iggy-esque proto rock’n’roll mavericks, they, like the Bunnymen last year, fitted the “Shiiine On” time-zone but possibly not the vibe, so, as the requisite wall of dry ice enveloped the stage, we wondered how these sleazoid Scottish veterans would go down here… 

Well then, how? For me, it seemed that JAMC were as divisive as the Bunnymen last year, and as previous headliners Teenage Fanclub, as throughout the set, pockets of space seemed to open up from our usual house right spot by the front Skyline tent support pole, for myself and interested party Logan to step into; so much so that by set end, we were front and centre a couple of rows back, in prime spot to grab a ridiculously easy mainstage set-list! But I’m jumping ahead of myself… abrasive, strobe-backlit opener “JAMCOD” was followed by the laconic chug of “April Skies”, a tremendous, absorbing “Happy When It Rains” and a, “how you all doing?” greeting from the usually taciturn vocalist Jim Reid through the smoke. The bleak, soda bar from hell doo wop of “Some Candy Talking” burst into cacophonous noise in the middle 8 for another early highlight, but that aside, the early set was full of unfamiliar newies, slightly alienating the “Shiiine On” massive, particularly “Pure Poor” which was frankly a plodding dirge.

However a superb “Head On” signalled a sea change in the set, and then it was pretty much sleazoid rock bangers all the way, Reid lifting his mic arm up after each number to signal his thanks. Singer Jane Weaver guested on the insouciant makeup/ breakup call and response of “Sometimes Always”, then the widescreen “Just Like Honey” was a delicious set highlight. A plaintive and understated “Darklands” was similarly heart-tugging, before Reid proffered thanks prior to the caustic, dramatic death wish chant of “Reverence”, closing out a polarising set which I nonetheless really enjoyed, particularly after “Head On”… 

That was 10 p.m. and the end of the Skyline bands; we grabbed a bench by the gin bar at the back of the Arena and Logan had a dirty kebab late tea before he and Rach headed off for a rest, intending to come out later for the Lamacq indie disco at 2 a.m. in Reds. I stayed put, being joined by Matt, and running into Simon Williams for another brief chat that turned into a long one! Note to self, if you see him tomorrow, block out the next half-hour…! This however bridged the gap to my next act, namely CUD at ¼ to 12 in a busy Reds. Thankfully I’d earlier plonked myself on the barrier, house left as the ebullient Carl Puttnam led his troops on and burst into the booming indie pop opener “Now Is The Time”. I’d not seen the quirky C86 survivors since their 2017 set here, but time hasn’t changed their off-beat, slightly “Carry On” eccentric charm, or Puttnam’s slightly risque gyrating showmanship. And the man can sing; a rich, resonant and occasionally octave straddling baritone, reaching the high hooks of the stomping “Eau Water” and the later upbeat jangle and regimented rhythm of a surprisingly singalong “Only A Prawn In Whitby” with ease. 

Prior to that, the funky smut of “Strange Kind Of Love” saw Puttman announce, “it took 8 hours to get here and 4 hours to forget I was in a van!”; the likes of “One Giant Love” and “Hey Boots” were bouncy, flouncy and groovy as fuck; and the Higsons-esque 80’s white funk of “Robinson Crusoe” was overlaid with fruity wah wah effects from guitarist William Potter. The chugalong lasciviousness of “I’ve Had It With Blondes” rounded off a slightly offbeat yet entertaining Cud band set, which took us up to ¼ to 1, so I had a sit-down break, and then a bit of a dance to a decent indie disco (Modern English! Dinosaur Jr.!), which took us to 10 past 1, and the arrival of AIRCOOLED after a fiddly set-up. This lot featured Olly from Shoegaze Queen Miki Berenyi’s band, plus former Elastica drummer Justin, and my initial investigations suggested a shoegaze Stereolab type of sound, worth checking out. However, they kicked into a clattering, migraine-inducing techno synth riff then pounded the shit out of it for what seemed like hours but was probably only 5 minutes or so. The second number was exactly the same, albeit at a slightly slower tempo, so I decided this blend of industrial krautrock and trancey synth wasn’t what I wanted to hear after 1 in the morning. So that was it for “Shiiine On” Saturday, and I wandered back to the apartment to find Rach and Logan already tucked up and fast asleep. So no Lamacq indie disco for any of us this year! 

Potential early musical highlights and general lack of interest had again prompted the cancellation of our intended Sunday Carvery, so we again had a lazy morning before I checked the car tyre, wandering into the Skyline Arena from the Studio 36 side and thus running into an arriving David Gedge and Rachael Wood from last year’s revelation The Wedding Present, stopping them for a quick chat and pic. It was then into Centre Stage at 12.15 for another early start; still very quiet but happily not as tumbleweed-deserted as last year, for the 12.30 commencement of BMX BANDITS. Given that the last time that they’d played “Shiiine On” was Saturday afternoon in 2017 (gig 1,062), when I had to miss half their set to escort my rather drunk wife back to our chalet to sleep it off, I was happy to get to see their full set this time! Opening with “Little Hands” (“a golden oldie for you,” according to vocalist Duglas Stewart), this band of C86 jangle pop heroes (and, apparently, favourites of Nirvana’s much-missed Kurt Cobain) delivered an understated yet utterly charming set of hooky, melodic and harmonic Big Star-esque strumalong pop, with Stewart a voluble, witty and entertaining raconteur. “Serious Drugs”, covered by my beloved Gigolo Aunts, was lower-key yet beautifully singalong, and introduced by Stewart as his, “retirement fund”! The subsequent twee yet delightful acapella “Your Class” followed Stewart’s claim that, “we are possibly indie pop’s most romantic band, according to Jakki Brambles’ radio show!”; the bouncy “Disco Girl” was about as rocking as BMX Bandits got; and closer “Spinning Through Time” was a cinematic yet touching and personal ballad dedicated to Stewart’s late wife. Not the best set this weekend, but quite possibly the nicest… 

Matt, Rach and I grabbed a seat for the next act; not a full band performance from 80’s swirling post-punk heroes The Icicle Works as advertised, but a solo performance from IW bandleader IAN MCNABB, apparently due to illness. Unfortunately, the capricious McNabb suggested, “you might be rock’n’rolled out so I’m going to play some acoustic numbers…” thence kicking into a lengthy and heavy-going “Dreams Of Heaven”, a solo number of his. And whilst I liked the more sweeping desert ballad of “Merseybeast”, next up, subsequent numbers delved into introspective and frankly dull Young/ Dylan-esque folk/ alt. country territory. A shame really, as I’ve seen McNabb waaay better than this, and this felt like an opportunity missed; with everyone expecting the band, just play some better-known Icicle Works songs for starters, eh? Read the room, mate… I headed off before I nodded off, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one… 

So, off to a rapidly-filling Reds in advance of the arrival of the DAVID GEDGE DUO, next up at 20 to 3. I still managed to grab my habitual house left barrier spot before it got really busy and whiled away the time with a lively conversation with Rachael, a lady who admired my Smiths shirt! So, come the hour, we were joined onstage by Wedding Present main man Gedge plus another Rachael, the erstwhile Ms. Wood, who for me is a key reason behind The Weddoes’ return to my listening habits and gig itinerary, thanks to her dynamic and powerful axe work. She wielded the electric guitar whilst the snowy-capped Gedge bashed away at a road-weary acoustic with his usual gusto for opener “A Million Miles”, his low stentorian growl a little throatier than usual. “Thank you, good evening, I’m Rod Stewart,” he quipped at its’ conclusion, alluding to a cold which nearly forced him to cancel, his work ethic ultimately prompting him to power through (although apparently when he picked Rachael up en route and said hello, she just laughed at him!). Nonetheless, he and Rachael did power through, the additional dynamism provided by the new guitarist being evident even in this acoustic setting. “Dalliance”’s slow burn moody intro led to a great thrashy strumalong denouement; the groovy 60’s ish “It’s A Gas” was preceded by a story of Gedge getting a letter marked from the House of Commons, believing it to be from apparent WP fan Kier Starmer, but it turning out to be a notice of roadworks (!); and the excellent “You Should Always Keep In Touch With Your Friends” was a delightful inter-twining jangle fest. 

The set was coming nicely to the boil then, with “Brassneck” next up, but I had already tendered my apologies to D&R during our earlier convo that I was going to miss half of their set due to the most upsetting clash of the weekend. I raced back up to Centre Stage then, grabbing a central spot a row behind the barrier this time, for recently reformed Scots combo THE SOUP DRAGONS, taking the stage shortly after my arrival. Rach had seen them at the “Gigantic” Bristol gig last year and returned with a less than favourable opinion, but from the outset they seemed determined to bury that, opener “Whole Wide World” an amphetamine-fast colourful burst of C86 buzzsaw punky pop, and “Crotch Deep Trash”, next up, a splendid sounding sleazy psych wah wah fest. Nothing wrong with either of those! 

The Soup Dragons, for me, were effectively 3 different groups; the Buzzcocks-esque C86-adjacent surf punk lot I saw in 1986 (gig 53!), then the more Stones-influenced trad bluesy psychedelia- tinged first album band I saw in 1987 (gig 69), and finally the baggy dance troupe of late 80’s chart fame, who I didn’t see at all. A lot of moving parts in their sound, then, but for me the set, leaning more towards those first 2 phases until towards its’ end, was well balanced with a great flow to it, delivered with gusto by these Scots veterans. The slightly ramshackle “Hang Ten” was nonetheless irresistibly happy surf punk; “Can’t Take No More” (vocalist “Hi-Fi” Sean Dickson lamenting, “I wrote this with no space to take a breath, so if you see me pass out…”) was an undulating and growling NYC proto punk rocker; and “Soft As Your Face”, apparently based on a riff Dickson wrote at 13 (!), was more melodically redolent of the 80’s Glasgow vibe, with a lovely plaintive guitar riff. “Head Gone Astray” (Dickson remarking, “some people used to call this “Head Gun Ashtray”” – I certainly did!) was a soaring and melodic best-of-set for me, although the barnstorming buzzsaw pop of oldie “I Know Everything” was Dickson’s favourite – so much so, in fact, he played it twice! Finally, the baggy dance of “Mother Universe” and an extended “I’m Free” got the ample crowd singing along, “Free” being preceded by an on-point exploration by Dickson of the concept of freedom. A new, punky protest number “No Music On A Dead Planet” was an apt slogan to end a superb set balancing The Soup’s various styles excellently and ultimately winning my Set Of The Weekend by a very short nose. And even Rach admitted they sounded a completely different band to “Gigantic”! 

Grabbed a list and queued up with Rach and Logan (who’d finally hauled himself out of bed for some Sunday entertainment!), getting it signed and having a fun chat with drummer Ross. Out into the Skyline Arena for some of NORTHSIDE’s baggy stylings, meeting Matt there. They were never my cup of tea back in the day, so I didn’t stay long, instead grabbing a dirty kebab tea (same as Logan’s, yesterday!) and hitting the apartment to watch the England footy game! Back out, however, for SLEEPER in the Arena at 7.20. From the outset, however, they sounded tepid, the guitar sound barely audible, falling very flat even in comparison to the Sleeper-by-numbers first part of their recent Bristol set (gig 1,404). Even that brilliant undulating guitar intro to “Delicious” sounded perfunctory at best, and Louise’s vocals, breathy at the best of times, sounded as if she’d just run a marathon, emerging almost one syllable at a time before a breath!

Yup, sorry, I’m a fan but Sleeper tonight were about as disappointing as I’d seen them since their reunion; the backbeat rhythm of “Lie Detector” was the most dynamic sounding number up to then, but that proved a false dawn until the bubbling synth of “Atomic”, again interspersed with a middle 8 crowd singalong to the “Love Will Tear Us Apart” hook. “She’s A Good Girl” was plodding cabaret at best; “Inbetweener” saw Lou drop her vocals right own to a whisper; and final number “Sale Of The Century”’s Britpop snark was actually the best non-“Atomic” number, albeit powered by an audience singalong. Overall, soporific and disappointingly dull – and I wasn’t the only one with that view, a “Shiiine On Appreciation Society” Facebook member posting “will someone ask Sleeper to play at the right speed?” Ouch! 

And that was about it for me – I’ve seen headliners Cast enough times here to know they’re not my cup of anodyne Britpop indie landfill, so I briefly ran into Gedge and Rachael for another quick chinwag, then hung out and chatted with the crew at the back of the venue before we headed back to the apartment. They all went back to see Space at 10.15 in Centre Stage who by all accounts utterly smashed it (even winning a “SOAS” “Best Band” poll), but they’re again a band who’d never landed with me (Tommy Scott’s vocals are like fingernails down a chalkboard for me – sorry but that’s how I feel!), so I watched some American Footy in the apartment before turning in! A bright Monday dawned, seeing us pack up, bid farewell to crew and various friends then hit the road for a circuitous journey home, reflecting on another lovely weekend away with family, good friends and overall fine music. The Soup Dragons may have won my SOTW but honestly, The Undertones, Ash and/ or JAMC might also have taken that accolade. So, another successful “Shiiine On” in the books – see you next year, Minehead!

 

SHERIFF’S SHIIINE ON SELECTION

Friday Best – ASH

Saturday Best – THE UNDERTONES

Sunday Best – SOUP DRAGONS

 Overall – 1. SOUP DRAGONS, 2 ASH, 3. THE UNDERTONES, 4. THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN, 5. MILES HUNT

 Best New Band – No-one really!

 We Can Be Heroes – MY CREW as ever, including first-timer Logan (despite sleeping almost all day Sunday): RACHEL for sensibly pacing herself again: MILES HUNT for a short but friendly chat: SIMON WILLIAMS for a couple of much longer ones (!): DAVID and RACHAEL for not minding too much that I went off to see The Soup Dragons: ROSS from the Soup Dragons for signing my list as per 1987!

1,404 SLEEPER, RIALTO, Bristol Electric, Friday 26th September 2025

 

Seems like I’ve been here before… Gig 368, waaaay back in 1998 in fact, when an upcoming bunch of widescreen cinematic urban popsters supported a knockabout indie-Britpop combo clearly on their down-and-outs, and destined to split up barely weeks afterwards. Yup, t’was indeed Rialto and Sleeper, and in my own backyard at Swindon’s Oasis! 27 years on, both bands have scratched that reunion itch, Sleeper rediscovering the ebullient pop fizz of their early days with a couple of inconsistent if fun “Shiiine On” sets, and Rialto returning likewise with a splendid “Shiiine On” showing, followed by a stylish, stylistically scattergun yet intelligently crafted new album in this year’s “Neon And Ghost Signs”. So, when Sleeper decided to invite their erstwhile 90’s support band along on this tour, celebrating the 30^th anniversary of their career-defining Britpop hit “Inbetweener”, this went from “hmmm” to “yup” quite quickly for me, and I grabbed tix accordingly.

Not just a “yup” for me, either, as Stuart and Matt both fancied it too, Matt breaking off a works event in Farnborough to pop across for the gig. He came to ours, then we picked Stu up for the usual trip down to Brizzle, diverting to Nelson Street car park as Rupert Street’s entry scanners were playing up, so getting in to the recently rebadged SWX upstairs room just before 7. Rialto were scheduled for an unusually early 7.15, so we quickly got spots a couple of rows back, house right, as Louis led the boys onstage. Opening with a couple of deep cuts from their splendid eponymous 1998 debut in the languid, Beatles-psych harmonies of “Dream Another Dream” and a more upbeat yet plaintive “Hard Candy”, they were then quickly in their stride, Louis announcing, “if anyone knows us, you know this one..” by way of introduction for a stately, sweeping and chorally skyscraping early “Untouchable”. Great start! 

Plucking equally from that debut and this year’s newie, this was again a stylish, urbane and effortlessly cool set from one of the more left-field yet worthwhile comeback kings of late. A beautiful “Summer’s Over” evoked hazy Summer twilights; “Put You On Hold”, my favourite new one, was a Pulp-esque sweeping yet moody piece; and the dramatic storytelling of “Monday Morning 5.19” was tonight’s overall highlight. “I hate audience participation!” Louis announced, tongue in cheek, before calling for a “la la la” backing singalong to the kitsch, Kylie-esque closer “No-One Leaves This Discotheque Alive”, rounding off another elegant set, delivered with style and class from an increasing “live” staple for me… 3^rd time this year!

Bassist Julian handed me his list; then I popped for a loo break and grabbed a quick chat with Julian and his singer on the merch stand, before squeezing back to my suddenly busy front spot. Sleeper duly came on prompt at 9.30, vocalist Louise taking the stage last, then plunging into the breathy and energetic circular riff of bouncy indiepop opener “Bedhead”. Sadly for me the subsequent numbers didn’t keep that momentum, despite Louise’s kinetic and effervescent presence, and even my favourite “Delicious” (introduced by Lou as, “for the women in the room – it’s always been your song!”) felt a little flat following that irresistible opening riff. This gig, so far as I was concerned, needed a bit of a jolt… 

Happily, one arrived, with “Pyrotechnician” a fine slab of fizzy, gnarly indie, with Lou’s slower introductory vocal building anticipation, kicking off the set proper for me. “What Do I Do Now”, shortly thereafter, was a rousing singalong and the best-received of the set thus far; the excellent “Lie Detector” railed against female stereotyping; and a darker, brooding divorce revenge song, “More Than I Do” was the best of the variable post-reunion material by some distance. And throughout Louise was a consummate performer, knowing her audience and engaging and involving them, far from her snarky and slightly haughty 90’s persona.

The undulating disco pulse of Blondie’s “Atomic”, again with the “Love Will Tear Us Apart” mid-number singalong, was splendid; then a stripped back late-night torch song version of “Vegas” precipitated a 3-song encore including lively singalongs for the Britpop anthems “Inbetweener” and “Sale Of The Century”. A ridiculously easy Sleeper list, then I ran into Gloucester friend Simon and wife Sarah, before a quick dash home for Matt to get back to his work event. Logan and his mate Ethan were still working on Logan’s bike, so chatted before turning in. Good stuff from Sleeper, better than I’d feared after a couple of ponderous openers, and they stacked up better against Rialto than that 1998 Oasis gig! One to catch at “Shiiine On” this year, then… Overall, although Rialto shaded it for me, this was a fun night out and a fine indie-Britpop double bill!

1,253 THE 2022 “SHIIINE ON” WEEKENDER, Various Venues at Butlins Resort, Minehead, Friday 11th – Sunday 13th November 2022

 

Wake up folks, it’s time to “Shiiine”! Time to haul my already aching limbs off to Minehead, to immerse myself in the annual 3-day celebration of 80’s/ 90’s UK indie rock and dance, with friends and like-minded folks, for the 6^th time in a row (pandemic-hit 2020 notwithstanding). This one was initially a little tricky to arrange, given that last year’s “Core 4” was reduced to 3 with Ady’s move to Glasgow, but luckily Matt persuaded his old school chum and fellow indie buff Martin to join us. I’d met the man at the recent Dean Wareham gig (gig 1,238) and found a knowledgeable and enthusiastic fellow aficionado, who would hopefully fit right in with Matt, Rach and myself. So, it’s all systems go for Shiiine On, Take 6!

 Rach and I hit the road at 9.30 after dealing with some school hiccups with the daughter of the house beforehand and en route… we thought for one brief moment that we’d have to turn back, but things got sorted (thanks Grandma and Grandad!) so we made our increasingly sunny way down, queueing up in roadworks on the outskirts of Minehead, but meeting Matt for the usual Tesco breakfast fixings shop and excellent fish and chip seafront lunch. Martin joined us shortly thereafter to join in the traditional chippy nosh, roadworks having hampered his journey from Truro, and we then joined the car queue for entry, eventually being ushered to the far entrance where our welcome packs (plus a keycard each! Hooray!) were waiting for us at the alphabetised gates. Easily the best and most efficient booking-in process of all Shiiine On’s so far; well done Butlins! So, we unpacked and chilled awhile in our second floor (uh, oh, the knees aren’t going to like that at 2 a.m.!) comfort apartmen,t before venturing into the main tented “Skyline Arena” (Martin slightly in awe of this huge main space!) for our festival openers THE K’S, on at 3.45. I’d caught the arse-end of this young rabble’s Victorious Festival set (gig 1,240), and here they warmed up the early comers with a Jam-ish set of earnest push’n’shove mod/Britpop noise. They reminded these old ears of 70’s Mod revivalists Secret Affair – a band whom, due to my punk allegiances, I utterly loathed at the time but have since mellowed on – and in the Skids-like opening riff and “Motown Junk” elongated verse line of “Glass Towns”, and the later, insistent soaring hook and backbeat verse of “Sarajevo”, had a couple of pretty decent numbers to hang their collective hats on. Not bad for starters! 

Off to the Inn On The Green, the small pub venue at the back of the main complex, for a drink outside whilst THE DIRT were making a horrendous fuzzed-up messy noise onstage. The shouty aggressiveness of Idles meets tuneless Sleaford Mods drum machine beats. Yuck! Thankfully they abated, and we had some more tuneful fayre to enjoy, in the shape of 90’s female-fronted indie pop pipistrels SALAD. Spangly-clad vocalist Marijne’s vocals were initially very quiet and little-girl-lost-in-the-mix for starters, but improved for the lilting, discordant “Granite Statue” and a fine, angular “Motorbike To Heaven”. I wasn’t so sure about Marijne’s slightly inappropriate coquettish act, and the “Your Ma” banter with the crowd felt a bit embarrassing, but they won out when they concentrated on the music; “Diminished Clothes” was a creepy grungy beat, and “the one you’ve been waiting for,” closer “Drink The Elixir” was upbeat and pacey, with a tough ascending hook, Marijne’s occasionally weak vocals totally hitting the mark for this one. Fine finish to a better than expected set overall, and nice afterwards to have a fun and quite revealing chat with one of my 80’s guitar heroes, Julian Cope’s former wingman and now Salad drummer Donald “Donneye” Ross Skinner, about the arch-Drude himself!

Salad were running late, so I hit the arena midway through EMF’s early evening set. Our paths had crossed often and always reluctantly on my part in the past, but I must admit this was as good as I’d seen them; brash, bright and dynamic, with a tough, punchy “Unbelievable” a mid-set Skyline anthem, echoed back by the big early evening crowd, and final number “EMF” really rather good in-your-face indie dance, delivered enthusiastically by the perennially youthful James Atkin. Could have done without the Mondays cover and the beat-heavy destruction of “I’m A Believer”, though… STEREO MC’S were next up, but I’ve never been a fan of their languid sneery dance, finding it just monotone and dull, so I headed back to the Apartment to chill, opting for Masterchef on the TV rather than the MCs and subsequent headliners Happy Mondays. You know me, if the Salford Village Idiot Ryder is onstage wasting everybody’s time (particularly his undoubtedly talented but doubtless infinitely patient bandmate Rowetta!), I’m nowhere to be seen!

 I was joined back there by the crew, then Matt, Martin and I headed back in at 10 as the Mondays massive dispersed. To Reds then, the large downstairs room hosting the rest of this evening’s entertainment for us, kicking off with potentially intriguing opener ANDY BELL SPACE STATION. Bell, now once again a mainstay of reformed and rejuvenated 90’s fuzzed-up shoegaze heroes Ride (oh, how I’d love for them to play here!), was flying solo tonight, delivering largely instrumental guitar workouts accompanied by backing tapes which varied from psychedelic backwards Byrdsian space rock to Stereolab metronomic electronica. Don’t get me wrong, there was some haunting, atmospheric stuff on show, overlaid by some virtuoso picking from Bell, morphing through various tempo and mood changes, but (and call me a bluff old traditionalist if you will), I like some tunes and song structures, and this felt like a freeform workout to highlight Bell’s undoubted technical brilliance, so I was left in admiration, but largely emotionally unmoved. Section a few bits off, put in a verse and singalong hook, and we’ll talk again…! Still, we had some tuneage up next from KINGMAKER 4AD, who delivered a considerably better set than their workmanlike Inn On The Green effort on Saturday afternoon in 2018, and ultimately (and surprisingly) won Band Of The Day honours from me. Sadly shorn of their charismatic original vocalist Loz Hardy, and with the 2 guitarists/ vocalists joining the original bass/drums battery admittedly struggling to fill his considerable boots (particularly the younger, tousle-haired bloke, whose thin, reedy voice regularly got overpowered in the mix), they nonetheless played a fine, hooky selection of Kingmaker’s finest poppy, slightly fraggly sub-Wonder Stuff moments. “Really Scrape The Sky” was a drum-dominated early anthem, “Two Headed” a languid lurch, and the excellent “When Lucy’s Down” robust, bouncy and hard-driving (and sung by the right vocalist!). A splendid if taciturn set closed out with a snarling and disturbingly prescient “10 Years Asleep” which could have easily been written about the last decade of Tory rule – don’t pretend to care when you don’t care! 

This bumped us to the other side of midnight and another potential highlight, which unfortunately didn’t really materialise; THE FRANK AND WALTERS, again dressed in matching orange shirts, opened up with 40 minutes-worth of unfamiliar material, a couple of early numbers being darker and harder edged than their usual jaunty and quirky Irish singalong stuff and nonsense, but the rest just frankly (sic) dull… Vocalist Paul Linehan actually apologised for playing slow new songs (“it’s that time of night”) but that didn’t stop them rolling out one soporific slug after another, the band’s between-song banter being much more entertaining at this stage! Finally, they threw us tiring punters a bone with a still low-key “Fashion Crisis Hits New York”, thankfully topped with an insanely jolly “After All” and a bouncy, ramshackly set highlight “Walter’s Trip”, before a racey “Michael” rounded off a frustrating set. At this point (1.30 a.m.!) we were done, so we headed out of Reds, running into the fine gentlemen from Abstraction Engine (Swindon’s finest band; well, at least since Raze Rebuild split up… sorry lads!) then took a detour to a packed Centre Stage to see if Rachel had made it out as planned to see James tribute act LAID. Unfortunately, we wandered in during a yodelling version of possibly my least favourite James track ever, the pseudo stadium bluster of “Born Of Frustration” so didn’t stick around for long, and we headed back to find my dear lady wife already tucked up, having not made it out at all! 

Day 1 in the books then, and Day 2 started with our welcoming Martin to another Shiiine On Tradition; the “Big Man Big Fry Up Breakfast”, named in honour of our former Shiiine On companion Rich, who initiated said Saturday tradition at our first Shiiine On in 2016. Thus fortified, we headed off for some pool party fun at Splash Waterworld, unfortunately walking in just as the Indie disco (Smiths, Strokes et al) turned into hi-NRG dance crap! Bah! Didn’t stay too long, then… back to the apartment to prep for today’s musical festivities, opting for shorts and my light kneestrap, as my dodgy knee was continuing to play up. Good thing this whole weekend was dry, mainly sunny and unseasonably warm! Over to Reds then for the intended CANDY OPERA set at 2, only to find the place (and Centre Stage) had been evacuated due to a fire alarm! This seemed to take a puzzlingly long time to sort, so Rach (who’d joined me by now) and I grabbed deckchairs at the back of the Skyline Arena and waited. Unfortunately, by the time the venues reopened, the crowd had largely dissipated, so it was an embarrassingly empty Reds that we made our way back into for Candy Opera’s late-running set at 2.30. Some wag down the front (OK, me…!) quipped that there were more people onstage than off (!), and certainly they were likely to have played to a bigger crowd at their impromptu set at the Hairy Dog on Thursday night! Nonetheless, they played to the hardy souls there, rather than the hordes who weren’t, with a clear and classy set of their soulful 80’s tinged pop. “# Text Delete” was a galloping, Woodentopsy opener, “Tell Me When The Lights Turn Green” was proper old school 60’s Motown blue-eyed soul, and the relatively harder-edged and expansive “Start All Over Again” recalled Prefab Sprout or my 80’s favourites The Big Dish. Lamenting the lack of people (although more were arriving for the subsequent Spairs), vocalist Paul Malone quipped, “we’re doing something different for this room – we’re playing our own songs!” The penultimate “These Days Are Ours” was the anthemic highlight of a set which oozed songcraft and quality, a shame so few were there to see it.

 Rach had nipped off to see a bit of Space (who by all accounts were excellent; not my thing, but still) and I hung around outside within earshot of Spairs subsequent Reds set. This lot, the new project of Neds Atomic Dustbin’s Jonn Penny, sounded as dull as ditchwater, however, so I headed into the Skyline Arena and ran into Matt and Martin as DEJA VEGA were starting their mid-afternoon set. Having served their Shiiine On apprenticeship on the smaller stages, this band of young bucks were finally on the big one, kicking up an impressively palpable noise for a 3-piece, their fast and furious metronomic proto-punky numbers attracting an increasingly large crowd. An early “Mr. Powder” was a 100mph approximation of The Doors’ “LA Woman” and my set highlight, and whilst much of the rest of their material was short on actual hooky tuneage and settled into an urgent droney yet one-dimensional swampy blast (the vocalist’s “Neu” t-shirt being quite a telling pointer to their influences here), they at least did it with power, passion and purpose, so fair play to them, although the last, lengthy and tempo changing number was again a bit of a self-indulgent trial of endurance.

 

Therapy? Setlist not mine - photo courtesy of fellow Shiiiner Vicky Bradfield-Mullenger. Thanks Vicky!

Rach joined us, so we had a much-needed sit down in Hotshots sports bar before SLEEPER, on at 20 to 5. A 6-piece this time backing up svelte-looking and iridescently be-skirted vocalist Louise Wener, with the welcome addition of Desperate Journalist’s excellent “live” guitarist Charley Stone, their strident flippant Britpop sounded balanced and clear from the outset; an early “What Do I Do Now” was slightly understated but featured fine keyboard embellishments underpinning Wener’s breathy vocals, a mid-set “Spooks” was slow-burn and snarky, and “Vegas” louche and languid. However, things really got going after Wener announced, “life is shit, so let’s go back to 1995,” a bullish and buoyant “Inbetweener” getting the crowd bouncing before the coruscating synth pulse of Blondie’s “Atomic” really took flight, rattling along apace and including a singalong middle 8 vignette of “Love Will Tear Us Apart”! After that, the knockabout Britpop of set closer “Sale Of The Century” was a little anticlimactic, but this was good stuff from Lou and co. And more to follow, as Shiiine On newbies and Irish grunting rock pigs THERAPY?, next up at 6, cranked it up a few notches; 3 black-clad desperadoes, wandering onstage to a spaghetti Western soundtrack as if emerging from a gunfight in the Navajo Desert, they set their stall out early to, as vocalist Andy Cairns so eloquently put it, “make some huge fucking noise for you!” with the rambunctious, fist pumping terrace chant of an early “Stories” an apt agenda setter. The wiry sinuous growling opening riff of Joy Division’s “Isolation” was an early highlight, and the titanic choral hook to “Face The Strange” saw me lose my missus to the mosh. Oh yes. I stayed on the periphery, house right, next to the gimp…! Ah yes, the gimp… a Shiiiner, dressed head to toe in black lycra with a mask featuring eye- and mouthholes only, eventually got hoisted onto his mate’s shoulders, wherein a security chap told him not only to get down, but take the mask off as well. Boo! Back to your cage in the basement for you, fella…! 

There I am - green tshirt, arms raised, just underneath the drummer's armpit!

Before an absorbing “Diane”, Cairns announced his drummer was staying over tonight, “so what should he get fucked up on, gin or Buckfast?” To cheers, he announced, “overwhelming support for Bucky!” “Teethgrinder” was a frantic, acerbic tempo changing hurtle, then a rollicking “Potato Junkie” saw Cairns lead the crowd in the “James Joyce is fucking my sister!” hook. But the best was saved for last; a superb triad of the backbeat riffery of “Die Laughing” (dedicated by Cairns to the sadly recently lost Taylor Hawkins), a rampaging “Nowhere” (preceded by an ironic couplet of The Beatles’ “Nowhere Man”), then an even more savage “Screamager”, rounding off an excellent and well chosen set full of utter bangers. 

We all needed a break after that, so repaired to the apartment, as the subsequent Reef held no interest for us! Back in the Arena for headliners ASH, though, on at 8.45 in front of a hefty crowd. The 17^th time of asking for me for these Downpatrick purveyors of spritely punky indiepop, I was predicting, as ever, that they’d play my favourite Ash number, “A Life Less Ordinary”, second number in. However, they threw me a curveball by kicking off with it! So I was in and up for jumping around to the boys’ set from the outset, yet, despite a knee-bucklingly bouncy early “Goldfinger”, it took the surf-punk harmonies of a rampant “Angel Intercepter” for a proper mosh to emerge. And I was in it from the outset, “carrying my bat” to the end, an enthusiastic, boisterous, occasionally physical yet inclusive and caring (at one point everybody stopping to find a mosher’s glasses that had been inadvertently knocked off) body of folks intent on rocking out and having a great time – and at one point joined by Ash bassist Mark Hamilton during a manic “Kung Fu”, which I didn’t actually notice at the time, as I was at the far end of the mosh forming a circle pit! 

Following a surf-tastic “Walking Barefoot” and superb, soaring “Girl From Mars”, vocalist Tim Wheeler introduced Therapy?’s Andy Cairns onstage with a few words of tribute to their support during Ash’s early years. Then, the incredible… Cairns played the unmistakable opening riff to Stiff Little Fingers’ 70’s Irish protest punk classic “Alternative Ulster” and I just grabbed the bloke nearest to me in the mosh and screamed, “Yessssss!!!!!” in his face, before launching myself in for an utterly incendiary, searing version of this iconic number. Simply one of THE great Shiiine On moments, so much so, in fact, that for me their subsequent brilliant, soaring run-through of The Undertones equally fabled “Teenage Kicks” felt a little anticlimactic. Wow. Just… wow. A blistering “Burn Baby Burn” rounded off The Set Of The Weekend by some considerable distance, topped with my grabbing a rare mainstage setlist as evidence to what I’d just witnessed! 

Mainstage festivities over, we repaired to the Centre Stage upstairs room, managing to grab 4 chairs to plonk our tired butts on. Battered and sweat soaked, I rehydrated and grabbed much needed breath as SACK played onstage; I was unfamiliar with their innocuous yet tuneful indie rock, and they were the wrong band at the wrong time for me to pay them any attention, I’m afraid! I did look up when the vocalist (who in my dazed state reminded me of “Young Ones”-era Alexei Sayle, cut-off sta-prest and all) brought on a “Thank You Shiiine On” banner, but that was it! Still recovering from Ash, I was actually a little caught out when HOUSE OF LOVE eased into their set at 11.40 with the chiming guitar hook of a pounding “Road”, but by “Christine” I was back on the dancefloor, enjoying the impressive building crescendo to this 80’s indie classic. Like their Roundhouse set in 2018 (gig 1,110), however, the performance felt understated, unobtrusive even, and, lacking the virtuoso picking of former guitarist Terry Bickers, this wasn’t a great HOL line-up. Also, a few too many numbers from their very low-key and frankly a bit rubbish new album “State Of Grace” inveigled their way into the set, so this felt like somewhat of a soporific plod, evidenced by a classic heckle from The Bloke Behind Me; “c’mon Guy, pick it up, we’re all going to sleep!” Thankfully, as if on cue, a ringing rendition of “Shine On” was excellent and delivered with hitherto absent conviction, “Destroy The Heart” was a galloping delight, and “I Don’t Know Why I Love You” urgent, yearning and the set highlight. An eerie, understated “Love In A Car” which nonetheless built to a pounding, powerful crescendo, rounded off a proper Curate’s Egg of a set which at least finished strongly. 

Back to our seats then, as DERMO, the perennially youthful former lead singer of 80’s Manc baggy Second Division outfit Northside, sang his former charges’ easy, lazy druggy anthems to a backing tape. I actually liked the plaintive and melodic “Rising Star” but found his nasal tones a bit grating after a full hour’s set. But at least that meant we’d made it to 1.45 a.m., and STEVE LAMACQ’s Indie Disco. I swayed about for awhile, but found the selections a bit mainstream for my obscure tastes (how obscure? Well, I’d been rocking World Of Twist and Parachute Men tshirts so far at Shiiine On, does that help?), and, still aching from Ash, I turned in at 2.30. My crew gave it another hour, then Day 2 was in the books as well! 

Sunday Day 3 dawned warm and sunny, as a particularly swift and thoroughly convivial Shiiine On entered its last lap. A later lazy morning this time (no surprise given last night’s late one!), then all in and out of showers before a wander along the surprisingly sun-kissed Minehead sea front over to The Old Ship Aground at the harbour, where a most excellent Carvery roast dinner awaited. Superb! Well set up for the day, we then wandered back to the apartment, whence my Gigolo Aunts tshirt got some attention from a fellow Shiiiner! Turned out said punter, Heidi (hi, if you’re reading this!) was not only a Bostonian but a neighbour of my lovely friend Angie (host of my gig 1,165, her 50^th Birthday Bash at Q Division of course…). Cue lots of chatting about Boston bands and mutual friends, as my crew just left me to it…! After catching up and a brief post-lunch chill, we were back in for my only real upsetting timing clash of the weekend; ECHOBELLY in the Centre Stage at 3, or MARTIN CARR AND WHAT FUTURE in the arena at 3.15? We all headed up to a well-attended Centre Stage for Echobelly for starters, but they were late starting after a fiddly soundcheck and opened with a dour little beast of a song. So, remembering their 2016 Shiiine set (when for me they were the only disappointment of a stacked bill), and also figuring my very good Boston buddy Corin Ashley might just kill me if I missed our mutual friend Mr. Carr, Matt and I headed off to a very sparsely attended Skyline Arena. Immediately this decision was vindicated, thanks to a quite superb second number, the bristling buoyant powerpop of “St. Peter In Chains” which featured a delicious underlying keyboard refrain. Great for starters, but standards were maintained with a mid-paced, more pastoral but no less hooky “Mary Jane”, recalling 60’s psych troubadours Love. 

Frankly, Martin’s set was a revelation. I’d enjoyed his 2018 House Of Love Roundhouse support slot (gig 1,110, again) whilst remembering it being a little more reliant on shimmering guitar atmospherics than the naggingly hooky psychedelia-influenced indiepop of his former charges Boo Radleys, but this set was all about the songs. “Mainstream” was a proper Laurel Canyon 70’s singer/ songwriter ballad suiting Martin’s higher, lilting vocals, “Damocles” a stomping and slightly menacing psych workout with nonetheless tight 2 part harmonies from Martin and his wild haired, hefty bass compadre, and “Stand Up And Fight”, a strident fist-punching call to arms. Martin also treated us to a couple of Boo Radleys numbers from their meandering masterpiece “Giant Steps”; a quite lovely solo Beatles-esque “Thinking Of Ways”, then the widescreen sky-scraping harmonies of a brilliantly shimmering “Lazarus” (preceded by Martin announcing, “I wrote this one 30 years ago, surprising as I’m only 26!”), which closed out less of a set, more of a classy songwriting clinic, Martin also shouting “Fuck The Tories!” before departing. Nice! 

I’d shouted up to Martin for his list which he generously provided, then I found a small opening in the backstage screen near the gents loo to call over the man himself, who was happy to take a break from packing up for a pic, signature and brief chat. Result! Took a break at the back of the Arena then joined a considerably larger mid-afternoon crowd for BADLY DRAWN BOY’s opening numbers. His solo acoustic guy stuff was low-key, pastoral and a little dull early doors, his lengthy between-song diatribes and banter proving considerably more entertaining but not sufficient impetus for me to stick around, so I joined Rach for a seat at the bar at the back of the Arena for a chat with a couple of her old friends, before wandering into Hotshots just before 6 for a non-musical highlight, my boy George Russell winning a tense and entertaining Brazilian Grand Prix for his first Formula 1 win! Delighted with that (but not as much as a lovely lady from Ipswich whom I sat next to for the race), I popped back into Skyline, passing Martin on the way who was looking to escape (in his words) “the horrible lounge music” of the mainstage SAINT ETIENNE. I dunno, the chuntering rhythm of a louche “Nothing Can Stop Us” sounded pretty decent, and set closer “He’s On The Phone” was a catchy pulsing synthpop tune, with vocalist Sarah Cracknell (who’d sounded a little out of key on some intervening numbers) conducting a call and response with the crowd. Sorry I missed the likes of “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” and “You’re In A Bad Way” (earlier in the set while I was rooting for George), but what I heard wasn’t that bad, actually! 

So, on to Sunday Skyline headliners TEENAGE FANCLUB. Lots of speculation beforehand about what their set might comprise of, particularly given the recent departure of Gerard Love, which seemed to preclude their playing his songs such as “Sparky’s Dream”, “Star Sign” et al. Sauntering on early at 8.40 like a bejumpered group of geography teachers on a lunchbreak, they eased into a clutch of newies, with “Warm Embrace” a pounding Byrdsian countrified rocker and “Endless Arcade”, the title track of their most recent album, an understated, slightly discordant yet lushly harmonic mid-paced groove. It was evident, then, that their setlist was pretty much based on their early 2022 album-promoting tour, with oldies such as an early, languid “About You” and the gorgeously melodic “Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From” sadly few and far between. The chunky Big Star rocker of “What You Do To Me” was a mid-set highlight, but by then a lot of punters had voted with their feet; I don’t recall such a sparse crowd for a Shiiine On Sunday headliner! The elongated grungy laze rocker “The Concept” took us up to the hour, at which point the band took a break (!), returning for an encore triad featuring a cover of The Who’s “The Kids Are Alright” (fine, but why??) and the inevitable hypnotic slacker groove of “Everything Flows” to close proceedings. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed their set, really liked some of the newer material (particularly a later, more upbeat “I’m In Love”), and yet was frustrated and disappointed at the paucity of more familiar works in the set and felt this a real opportunity missed by The Fannies. 

Anyway, we decamped to an already rammed Reds for the last knockings of the weekend, finding a load of big blokes in our way down the front and a crowd seething with anticipation; in fact, probably more here for Wonder Stuff vocalist MILES HUNT’s solo acoustic set than there were at the end of Teenage Fanclub in the Skyline Arena! Miles (with whom I’d talked about Shiiine On after The Wonder Stuff’s June Bristol gig (gig 1,229) and particularly Teenage Fanclub as headliners, his response being, “they should just play all of “Bandwagonesque”!”) showed he totally understood the Shiiine On brief with his opening comments of, “I’ve got a new album out [cue chorus of good-natured boos] but you’ll have to come to one of my solo shows in a pissy village hall to hear that shit!” before breaking into a raucously received “Unbearable”, pausing mid-song to ask, “the leydeez in the house!” for a blood-curdling middle 8 scream. Thence followed a set replete with old school Stuffies bangers; a swirling “Wish Away”, a raucous “Ruby Horse” featuring the crowd filling in the Malc Treece descending guitar hook with “ding ding ding ding” harmonies (“my younger self would hate this!” quipped Miles, “but that young man got me into enough trouble…!”), a beautiful melancholic “Caught In My Shadow” preceded by a lengthy exposition from Miles about The Stuffies early days in Birmingham, the inevitable “Size Of A Cow” (“it’s the song that splits [our] audience, but I’m playing it because I still like it!”) and a noisy singalong “Welcome To the Cheap Seats”, highlights all. There was even a bouncing moshpit by the time closer “Give Give Give Me More More More” came around, closing out a fine, fun and all-inclusive set from a relaxed and comfortable performer who totally gets what this Shiiine On crowd want, and delivers – every time!

The slightly odd scheduling however meant that Milo’s brilliant 45 minutes was followed by an hour’s set from DIESEL PARK WEST, by which time pretty much everyone (including my crew!) had cleared off! So I was on the barrriers front and centre along with a small band of devotees, for Leicester’s finest purveyors of harmonic 60’s Byrdsian jangle, just after 11.20. Opener “Waking Hour” was a dark 60’s psych rocker with a suitably intricate backwards guitar middle-8, yet whilst a couple of other newies skirted around trad bluesy pub rock, the older material shone as ever. “All The Myths On Sunday” (not an afterthought this year!) was a smooth and beautifully understated singalong with that gorgeous descending harmony hook, “Here I Stand” was a plaintive wallow, and “Like Princes Do” a galloping hooky thoroughbred of a song. Like Candy Opera, laconic vocalist Jon Butler and his boys manfully played to the people there rather than the departed Stuffies hordes (“thanks for sticking around – it means you really want to see us!” was his somewhat pointed comment), and the touchingly meandering “Bell Of Hope” and the dynamic Stones-y strut of “When The Hoodoo Comes” rounded off a slightly uneven yet overall fine set with plenty of highlights. A fine way to end Shiiine On musically, at least, although a subsequent highlight was bumping into Miles Hunt himself, holding court just outside Reds, for a pic and brief chat, after he’d noticed my Gigolo Aunts tee and exclaimed, “great shirt!” 

Thus endeth Shiiine On, as I wended my way back to the apartment for a final night’s sleep, before we rustled up one last fry-up breakfast with the remainder of our fridge contents, then bade farewell to our friends Martin and Matt and hit the road for home, back in the ‘don just before 2 after a lunch pitstop for at M4 Leigh Delamere Services for pasties (the Butlins on-site pasty shop having very odd opening times this year, i.e. too early for demand!). On reflection, a slightly odd Shiiine On musically, a few too many 90’s icons either peddling their new projects or new material, with only Martin Carr for me maintaining his quality control with a somewhat unexpected set of great indie powerpop tuneage. The most memorable bands for me were those who “got” Shiiine On, understood that this was a celebration of that 80s/90s Indie era and tailored their sets accordingly – step forward and take a bow Kingmaker, Therapy?, Miles Hunt and especially Band Of The Weekend Ash, who gave us one of THE definitive Shiiine On moments with “Alternative Ulster”. Non musically, just another brilliant weekend of good times, great company, fine food, chat and conversation, Shiiine On being about much, much more than just the music. Fingers crossed we’ll all be back next year to Shiiine some more!

  

SHERIFF’S SHIIINE ON SELECTION

Friday Best – KINGMAKER 4AD

Saturday Best – ASH

Sunday Best – MILES HUNT

Overall – 1. ASH, 2. MILES HUNT, 3. THERAPY?

Best New Band (and I appreciate this one is a bit of a stretch, but I didn’t know any of his solo stuff, so there!) – MARTIN CARR AND WHAT FUTURE?

We Can Be Heroes – New boy MARTIN who “got” Shiiine On, and loved it; repeat offenders MATT and RACHEL; ASH and ANDY CAIRNS for “Alternative Ulster”; MILES HUNT; MARTIN CARR; The blokes who held me up in the ASH moshpit; THE GIMP!