Crowned Lightbringer: New EP From Ruby Darbyshire

If I was bowled over backwards by Rubyโ€™s teaser single last week, its title, Crowned Lightbringer, now also belongs to this five-track EP, released today, and as you might guess, youโ€™re in for a treatโ€ฆ..

Thereโ€™s so much incredible time, effort and adroitness pouring out of this itโ€™s actually scary how talented Ruby Darbyshire is at such a young age, and in pondering the journey her music will take her. Youโ€™re left numb to what to listen to next, in awe, and spellbound by its harmonic perfection. Thereโ€™s also a general theme of journey, often rinsed in ingenious metaphors, which connects you to Rubyโ€™s world and imaginings, the hallmark of a musician who knows what buttons to press to engage an audience and leave them spellbound.

Rubyโ€™s Scottish roots are displayed in a bagpipe instrumental bonus track, The Spirit of Jenny Whittle, the rest relies on her accomplished acoustic mood-setters, and the ambience is as ever, hauntingly choral, layered with dedication, folk emotive and saturninely uplifting soulfully, edifying a matured Ruby, compared to her debut EP. But if Crowned Lightbringer displays a whole new level for her music, what comes next will be anyoneโ€™s guess. It is, in my humble opinion, an EP which needs to be in everyoneโ€™s life.

Vocally itโ€™s faultless too, profoundly as guiding as Nina Simone, as variable and soulful as Billie Holiday; comparisons of such high accolades, I know, I donโ€™t know where else to go to balance her sublime vocal range. Lady Nade and Mayyadda the only contemporary likenesses I could fairly credit. Opening with Timekeeper, as deeply emotive as Crowned Lightbringer, chilling and as distant as an autumn zephyr. With a rustic vinyl crackle, Calling Hades captures a timeless acoustic goodness of underworldly Greek gods, with a romantically liberating hopefulness as its theme.

Black Dog has a deeper blues feel, yet sprinkled with northern celtic, spiritually-guiding us away from the omen of solitary, the Gytrash. Ruby is folk, primarily rooted and understanding of it. Thereโ€™s much to unpick from her beautiful music tapestry here, Iโ€™ve only had a quick listen, couldnโ€™t wait for a complete analysis before telling you how fantastic this EP is, but I believe, in time, this might be my personal fave! But hey, the title track follows, and weโ€™ve mentioned this last week, itโ€™s a metaphoric shanty which depicts perfectly where Rubyโ€™s music is taking her and all the demons which might lurk on her journey.

All I know is this should put Ruby not a local circuit map, but on an international stage; I donโ€™t flatter, and if you donโ€™t take note more fool yourself. Listen, just, listen! 

Website Facebook Instagram YouTube


Trending……

Lady Nade; Sober!

Dry January, anyone? Well, Lady Nade just plunged into an outdoor 4ยฐC eucalyptus sauna for a social media reel. But whilst I’d require a stiffโ€ฆ

Keep reading

Rooks; New Single From M3G

Chippenham folk singer-songwriter, M3G (because she likes a backward โ€œEโ€) has a new single out tomorrow, Friday 19th December. Put your jingly bell cheesy tunesโ€ฆ

Keep reading

Song of the Week: Canute’s Plastic Army

Swindon Celtic folk at it’s finest, Anish Harrison and Neil Mercer smash it again, this one is sublime, it’s called Wild, no spoilers, just listen, immerse yourself, and perhaps buy it for a quid, you can’t even get a chocolate bar for that these days!

Canute’s Plastic Army played Swindon Shuffle last night, too early for me to to get down there, so this single makes up for it. Got to catch them live as soon as feasibly possible, stick it on my never-ending must-do list for me, there’s a good chap.


Trending….

Burning the Midday Oil at The Muck

Highest season of goodwill praises must go to Chrissy Chapman today, who raised over ยฃ500 (at the last count) for His Grace Childrenโ€™s Centre inโ€ฆ

St John’s Choir Christmas Concert in Devizes

Join the St Johnโ€™s Choir and talented soloists for a heart-warming evening of festive favourites, carols, and candlelit Christmas atmosphere this Friday 12 th Decemberโ€ฆ

For Now, Anyway; Gus White’s Debut Album

Featured Image: Barbora Mrazkova My apologies, for Marlboroughโ€™s singer-songwriter Gus Whiteโ€™s debut album For Now, Anyway has been sitting on the backburner, and itโ€™s moreโ€ฆ

Butane Skies Not Releasing a Christmas Song!

No, I didnโ€™t imagine for a second they would, but upcoming Take the Stage winners, alt-rock emo four-piece, Butane Skies have released their second song,โ€ฆ

Has Swindon’s Liddington Hill Created Celtic Grunge?!

Explosive new EP from Liddington Hill released tomorrow, Edge of Insanity, begging the question, have they created a whole new subgenre?

As an impressionable Essex teenager coming from a hip hop background, thrust unwillingly into an eerie Wiltshire village like Sam Emerson in the Lost Boys, I endeavoured to align myself with the musical tastes of the natives. Yet, while I pre-gained a penchant for soft metal, the pop charts latest exploitation, I never envisioned lying semi-subconsciously under a fallen Christmas tree with a gang of crusty kids, while the needle stuck on the last notes of the Pouges’ Transmetropolitan, and everyone too drunk on Cinzano to change the record.

Fair to assume The Pouges belted me hard in the bum-fluffed chops, it would be unthinkably embarrassing to show affection for folk music, surely? But this, this was fast and furious, like the punk of a bygone childhood, and turned my preconceptions on its head. Now it’s commonplace, the Celtic punk of Flogging Molly and The Dropkick Murphys are instant likes, but I’ve become immune to their ferociousness; the violent police response to break up parties, and mass of abandoned fires burning across a post-apocalyptic looking Glasto main stage after The Levellers spoke out about not letting the travellers in that year made sure of it.

Yet a want for angry music never extended to grunge by the time it arrived, though I now see it’s worth and power, I was a raver, and felt reggae was the only meaningful source left I’d consider; dance music was blithe and fantastical. So, as I’ve only ever been a window shopper of grunge, I confess dubiousness when Matthew of Liddington Hill emailed me, “it’s a bit grungier.” Not forgoing, it’s been two years since we featured them last, reviewing their debut EP Cow, and if I liked it, which I did, there was always a niggly its songs of traditional Irish shanty and tales of Swindon pub crawls lacked that archetypal anger commonly associated with Celtic punk; they’ve sure made up for that now.

New EP then, out tomorrow (2nd June) called Edge of Insanity, rips a new hole in the fabric of what’s acceptable and very possibly creates a subgenre, for Google searching โ€œCeltic Grungeโ€ doesn’t amass much more than separate Celtic punk and grunge offerings. The Swindon five-piece ask on their blog, “is Celtic grunge a thing yet?” It is now, well done you, because it works, take it from someone for whom grunge is not usually their cuppa.

With some band changes and maternity leave, Edge of Insanity goes much further up Liddington Hill. Peering down on themes of serial killers and the Aberfan disaster, it takes no prisoners itself, carelessly teetering on the edge, as it suggests on the tin. The Celtic riffs against grunge chords is a match made in heaven and a wonder no one thought of it before, bands like Ferocious Dog only meeting part of the way. It’s this blend staring us in the face which makes it for me, bending my grunge preconceptions of โ€˜yeah Nirvana was great, but I’m delving no deeper than the baby on the cover;โ€™ Iโ€™m a Celtic folk hussy, add a slice of it and I’m yours!

Another winner is, beneath the dark and angry dispositions on offer, thereโ€™s historical gospel in the narrative. The opening tune In Rosie’s Room concerns a real mid-19th Century prostitute in gold rush America who tried to steal from a gold mine with her lover. With a hypnotic riff it rings how this EP is going to play out; indignantly dynamic and in your face.

Hold onto your hat though, as itโ€™s about to get real screamy. Keep Hold of your Heart really is a furious thrashed punk expression from the perspective of an inmate in a Sanitorium. Illustrates my point though, usually my toes would curl at this intensity, but given this Celtic roots riff running through it, I can get aboard; it makes The Pouges sound like Brotherhood of Man!

The edge chills off, slightly, Capped in Black is the Aberfan themed song, possibly the ace of spades here, the balance of grunge and Celtic punk is refined and the anger within comes to a dramatic close leaving you aghast at the notion this disaster was allowed to have happened; the effect is achieved.

American serial killer Aileen Wuornos under Liddington Hillโ€™s radar next, the track Maid Of Mayhem is perhaps my personal favourite, retrospectively punk with their new bassist Alannah on first person vocals and making a wonderful job of it, itโ€™s akin to Siouxsie Sioux reworking Springsteenโ€™s Nebraska, on fire!

The 1940s Lipstick Killer, William Heirens is next on the bandโ€™s unglorified hall of serial killer fame with the finale, Lipstick. The band explained, โ€œLiam, for some reason became inspired after reading about a few serial killers and the reasons behind such terrible actions. So he wrote a few songs and we put some together with a couple of other heart-wrenching songs we’d written.โ€ The grunge element seems to wane in favour of upfront punk rock, as we progress past Keep Hold of your Heart, and Iโ€™m grateful for this. Lipstick polishes this explosive caliginous EP off, suitably akin to The Stooges or even early Ramones, while retaining this Celtic folk riff credited to The Pouges, and for this, plus itโ€™s astounding step up in expression and production, is a yes from me.

Free entry to the Vic in Swindon on Thursday 15th June for the EPโ€™s launch party with support from Lucky Number Seven and Dark Prophecy. Find out more info about tomorrowโ€™s release on Liddington Hillโ€™s website, HERE and Facebook HERE.


Trending…..

One Of Us; New Single From Lady Nade

Featured Image by Giulia Spadafora Ooo, a handclap uncomplicated chorus is the hook in Lady Ladeโ€™s latest offering of soulful pop. Itโ€™s timelessly coolโ€ฆ

Large Unlicensed Music Event Alert!

On the first day of advent, a time of peace and joy to the world et al, Devizes Police report on a โ€œlarge unlicencedโ€ฆ

Winter Festival/Christmas/Whatever!

This is why I love you, my readers, see?! At the beginning of the week I put out an article highlighting DOCAโ€™s Winter Festival,โ€ฆ

Devizes Winter Festival This Friday and More!

Whoโ€™s ready for walking in the winter wonderland?! Devizes sets to magically transform into a winter wonderland this Friday when The Winter Festival andโ€ฆ

Snow White Delight: Panto at The Wharf

Treated to a sneaky dress rehearsal of this year’s pantomime at Devizesโ€™ one and only Wharf Theatre last night, if forced to sum itโ€ฆ

Liddington Hill Celtic Punk!

Sometimes, and quite a number of times I might add, nothing fits the bill quite like a bout of pounding bibulous Celtic punk, by a band with a girl donning a cowโ€™s head as a mascot. But how far would you expect to trek to find such a group of misfits, Wales, Ireland?

Suggested in the name, Liddington Hill, the beautiful down overlooking Swindon, with the Ridgeway traversing and its iron age hillfort, is local enough. Not since the days of the Blitz, when the area was used as a โ€œStarfishโ€ decoy bombing bunker, has it been so explosive.

Whatโ€™s the link to Liddington with this scorching five-piece band, who have just released their debut EP, Cow after a few singles, I felt imperative to ask? โ€œWe all lived in Swindon at the time we started,โ€ fiddle and vocalist Matt told, โ€œour singer grew up around the area and went up to Liddington Castle a lot as a child. It seemed to be a bit of a landmark and with the Ridgway close by had great links to the past, so I guess it just seemed like a good name.โ€

Two members remain in Swindon, the other two now live in Oxford, and drummer Chris hails from Chippenham. With fiddles and a bodhrรกn meshed with electric guitars, the line between punk and traditional Celtic folk cannot be yanked apart, not that there’s any good reason to try to.

The bobbing theme of a band drinking excursion to Oxford, Pub Crawl, follows a dynamic and unique slide-guitar take of the folk sea shanty, Whip Jamboree.

An almost new-wave post-punk feel is implemented into the melting pot with the third tune, Marshlands, an original song about lead guitarist Liam’s Grandfather in Ireland, โ€œwho wouldn’t ride a horse,โ€ Matt explained, โ€œbut insisted on riding a cow!โ€ Hence the cow symbolism, Iโ€™m best guessing.

The EP ends traditionally, with Joseph B. Geogheganโ€™s anti-war music hall classic, Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye, and Liddington Hill bless the folk feel with their brand of punk, making for a perfect finale. While it might not be as authentic as The Pouges, or as aggressive as The Levellers, with bands like Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphys storming success in the US, thereโ€™s a huge market for this beguiling genre, yet a scarcity on the local scene, and Liddington Hill pack a punch.

Itโ€™s a grower, and Iโ€™m loving this, anticipating possibility of an album to greater extend their scope, but as far as energetic presence is concerned, itโ€™s kick-ass. Branded subtly, though, to suit a pub environment, so a live show, fingers crossed for their definite return, would be something highly memorable and Iโ€™d recommend landlords book them in; certainly, itโ€™d push up the beer sales!


Trending…

Chatting With Burn The Midnight Oil

Itโ€™s nice to hear when our features attract attention. Salisburyโ€™s Radio Odstock ย picked up on our interview with Devizes band Burn the Midnight Oil andโ€ฆ

Horses of the Gods; We Wish You Health

I once reviewed a cassette with a photocopied punk-paste zine style picture of Mr Blobby as the cover, where a distraught male voice screeched, โ€œtake an overdose, ginseng!โ€ continuously over some white noise. Thank heavens thatโ€™s in a long-lost past!

Fortunately, Iโ€™ve never had anything quite so bizarre to review since, not even this week when, Erin Bardwell messaged; โ€œone of the drummers I do things with, Matty Bane, has a side duo project and wanted to let you know about their latest album.โ€

Sure, Iโ€™ve heard of Matty, seen him listed as one of Erinโ€™s collective, trekking with them to Jamaica in 2003 to record with Recoldo Fleming at Dynamic Sounds. Further research shows heโ€™s drummed in Bad Manners for over ten years, and is now part of Neville Stapleโ€™s From the Specials setup, headhunted from days as part of the Special Beat tour with the original rude boy.

Given this, I was naturally expecting said side-project to be reggae, stands to reason. What mightโ€™ve eased the surprise was to have pre-known of Mattyโ€™s own band The Transpersonals, a minimalistic, psych-rock outfit lounging somewhere between Pink Floyd and Spaceman 3. Still, nothing was going to prep me for what I got; We Wish you Health by Horses of the Gods.

Thereโ€™s only one reason for facetiously mentioning the eccentric Mr Blobby cassette, because this is unusual too. The likeness ends there, though. โ€œBizarreโ€ can connote excruciating, as with the cassette, but, as with We Wish you Health, can also imply uniquely stimulating and inimitably disparate. So much so, itโ€™s astonishingly good. For those seeking the peculiar, those at their happiest dancing barefoot in Aveburyโ€™s morning dew, or for whom reaching the summit of Glastonbury Tor before sunrise is priority, will adore this, with jesterโ€™s bells on.

Matty teams up Mike Ballard, a media and games lecturer with a penchant for folk. And essentially this is what we ought to pigeonhole Horses of the Gods as; Somerset folk, is as near in modern terminology youโ€™re going to get. But for comparisons Iโ€™m going to have to max my flux capacitor way beyond my usual backtracking.

If I relish in music history without the technical knowledge, I understand one has to either accept four-time pop, or untrain their ear to acknowledge other musical metres, in order to appreciate folk, classical, even jazz, but particularly the kind of sounds We Wish you Health is embracing. Thereโ€™s something medieval, least pagan mysticism about the influences here, of shawms and hand-cranked hurdy-gurdies, miracle plays, and Gallican chants of plainsong. And itโ€™s swathed with chants and poetry as if in variant West Country Brittonic tongue.

We have to trek beyond futurist Francesco Balilla Pratellaโ€™s Art of Noises theory, to an olden ambience of nature, of birdsong, storms and waterfalls. The opening track starts as a spoken-word toast and ends akin to medieval court jester entertainment, over a haunting chant. Equally passe but equally amicable is a sea shanty called Down in the Bay. Then a clocktower chime follows; left wondering if this was Dark Side of the Moon recorded in 1648. Sow In uses mellowed hurdy-gurdy to mimic what the untrained ear might deem an Eastern ambience. With a solstice theme, itโ€™s so earthy it makes the Afro-Celt Sound System sound like Ace of Base! (Joke; I love the Afro-Celt Sound System!)

In many ways the next tune Ostara follows suit, more eastern promise yet slightly more upbeat. Consider George Harrisonโ€™s collaborations with Ravi Shanker. As the album continues, experimentation with traditional abound, obscure instruments are thrown into the melting pot; the Victorian circus sound of The Thing and I, the rural west country ditty of Diggerโ€™s Songs, in which you can almost smell spilt scrumpy as folk rise from haystacks to jig.

Throughout youโ€™re chopping randomly at influences, this medieval court running theme, blended with an oompah band styled sound on The Whole World Goes Around, will make you want bells on your shins like a drunken Morris dancer at the village fete. Else youโ€™re haunted by the chill of evocative soundscapes, unable to pinpoint an era this falls into. Iโ€™ll tell you now, it was aptly released at Samhain last year.

We Wish you Health may be bespoke, and some wouldnโ€™t give themselves adjustment time, yet Sgt Pepper and Pet Sounds were famed for pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable in contemporary pop. This is a fissure to the norm, a testimony of yore, for while thereโ€™s a demonstration of newfound passion within ancient realms, it is fundamentally timeless. Though I suspect thereโ€™s myth and history behind each track, which extends the album from a set of songs to a research project for the listener.

The finale, for example, has a reference in Wikipedia; John Barleycorn, a personification of the importance of sowing barley and of the alcoholic beverages made from it, beer and whisky. Though in the House of Gods, cider gets a mention. John Barleycorn is represented as suffering indignities, attacks and death that correspond to the various stages of barley cultivation. It goes onto reprint a Robert Burns version from 1782, though stating countless variations exist; Matty and Mike use an earlier version:

There was three men come out o’ the west their fortunes for to try, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die, They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head, Til these three men were satisfied John Barleycorn was dead.

Iโ€™ve rushed out this review to make you aware of it, and because Iโ€™m so utterly astounded by its uniqueness, but fear Iโ€™m only teetering on the edge of its fascinating historical references myself. Thus, is the general nature of folk music, to dig out lost fables which once wouldโ€™ve entertained young and old, and bring them to new audiences, and The Horses of the Gods does this in such a way, the negative confines and stereotypes commonly associated with folk music just melt away.

Link Tree to album


Trending……..

The Lost Trades Float on New Single

Iโ€™ve got some gorgeous vocal harmonies currently floating into my ears, as The Lost Trades release their first single since the replacement of Tamsin Quinโ€ฆ

Barrelhouse are Open for Business with New Album

Rolling out a Barrelhouse of fun, you can have blues on the run, tomorrow (7th November) when Marlborough’s finest groovy vintage blues virtuosos Barrelhouse releaseโ€ฆ

Ruzz Guitar Swings With The Dirty Boogie

Bristolโ€™s regular Johnny B Goode, Ruzz Guitar Blues Revue goes full on swing with a new single, a take on The Brian Setzer Orchestraโ€™s 1998โ€ฆ

Joyrobber Didn’t Want Your Stupid Job Anyway

A second track from local anonymous songwriter Joyrobber has mysteriously appeared online, and heโ€™s bitter about not getting his dream jobโ€ฆ.. If this mysterious dudeโ€™sโ€ฆ

Devizes Chamber Choir Christmas Concert

Itโ€™s not Christmas until the choir sings, and Devizes Chamber Choir intend to do precisely this by announcing their Christmas Concert, as they have doneโ€ฆ

David Grayโ€™s Skellig; Enchantingly Sublime

Music technology bears a burden on the acoustic singer-songwriter, hopefully awaiting a practical gap in the market to sneak into the mainstream. Locked in the adolescent tantrum of the drum machine, pop charts of the late eighties were awash with electronica, hip hop, and the dawn of house, either this, or jean commercials revitalised sixties soul classics. Then, along came a short dreadlocked female singer, clasping her guitar.

Had Tracey Chapman arrived a decade earlier when Joan Armatrading was prevalent, the impact might not have had the same clout. As it was her appearance was exhilarating, a breath of fresh air, but seems sometimes acoustic artists are to pop charts as Christopher Lambert is to Highlander, there can be only one.

In 1998 David Grayโ€™s self-released studio album, White Ladder looked as if it would be no more successful than his previous three. While renowned on the folk scene, Gray didnโ€™t break the mainstream until its ATO re-issue in 2000. Perhaps we could speculate the charts of 98 was held hostage by Britpop, else the reign of rave was at its apex. People looked for something fresh for the millennium, and Grayโ€™s folktronica found that gap.

Folktronica is a strapline, rather than subgenre. A causal grouping for fusing string instruments into electronic music, born at a time of public acceptance in hip hop. It was courageous, but a natural progression, and Gray was atop of the game, appearing in David Kaneโ€™s rom-com This Yearโ€™s Love, which he based a song around its title.

Like an Andy Warhol prediction, the sequel to White Ladder, A New Day at Midnight, failed to obtain the same critical acclaim, despite charting at the top, and whipping Pop Idol runner-up Gareth Gates’s debut album, which is enough for me! Exhaustion in the spotlight saw David Gray rest, and gradually fall into cult status, returning to the folk circuit.

At the millennium I was neither here nor there about David Gray. Yeah, I liked his charted songs, but entangled in denying rave had perished I sought heavier trip hop, or else a model folk formula; the two were strictly separate entities. It wasnโ€™t until a near decade ago, reviewing a self-published book which suggested White Ladder was a revelation of pious significance, that I gave second thought to David Gray, and just how good the album was. Mind you, the flimsy autobiographical plot continued onto how, under hypnosis, the author turned out to be an incarnation of Cleopatra, so it all had to be taken with a pinch!

This is the culprit, the reason Iโ€™ve been knocked for six by his new album, Skellig, released tomorrow (19th Feb 2021.) Naturally I expected it to be pretty awesome, but hadnโ€™t fathomed how awesome. Astounded, on continuous play and taking me on a journey for the best part of this week, I confirm its ambient, acoustic gorgeousness.

If last yearโ€™s twentieth anniversary of White Ladder saw a deluxe edition launched, but a subsequent tour cancelled due to the pandemic, Skellig counteracts; it is simply perfection for isolation, though written prior. The elements of folktronica are even more subtle than previously, with just a hint they set the scene, welcoming a sparser, shared soundscape with the atmospheric songs focussing around six-part vocals with Gray trading his signature gravel for a softer tone; mega-bliss. Though, a sense of shingle develops vocally as the album reaches a conclusion, not at Dylan level, but adjacent.

Skellig takes its name from a formation of precipitous rocky islands off the coast of Co. Kerry, the most westerly point in Ireland. Ravaged by the Atlantic, the seemingly un-inhabitable location of Skellig Michael became an unlikely site of pilgrimage in 600AD for a group of monks, who believed leading such a merciful existence, they would leave the distraction of the human realm to be ultimately closer to God.

Gray asks for no literal translation of the above, nor prescribes any religious allegiance; the story, told to him by a friend, has haunted his imagination ever since: โ€œThe more I contemplated the idea of a small group of people landing on those rocks and establishing a monastic life there, the more overpowered I became by a dizzying sense of awe. How close to God could you possibly wish to get? Life must have been unbelievably hard for them and trying to fathom the deep spiritual conviction that compelled them to escape the mediaeval world led me to acknowledge my own deepest longings to be free of all the endless human noise that we now so readily accept as being such an inescapable part of our day to day lives. Dreams of revelation, dreams of a cleansing purity, dreams of escape. Ideas that I think almost any 21st century person shouldnโ€™t find it too hard to relate to!โ€

A notion which saw Gray gather his team and venture to the Scottish Highlands to live out the creation of the record. In the significant of this backstory, Skellig paints a picture with sound akin to Goghโ€™s Starry Starry Night. You can sense the sea crashing into the rocks of a barren Irish landmass, hear the haunting echo through the draughty halls of a desolate monastery, through multi-layered vocals, delicate Celtic guitar picks and morose piano solos.    

Written astutely and with maturity in comparison to White Ladder, subjects twist dejection into uplifting awe. Carried by a singular baritone guitar, the opening title track bobs on an ocean like a chantey, familiarising you with how itโ€™s going to go down. From there on it free-flows thirteen tracks of blissful enchantment. While listening I noted the songs seemed short, but in checking most weigh over the four-minute mark, proof how engrossing Skellig is. Lost in its splendour it comes to a masterful finale with the graceful, All That We Asked For And More; which sums up the album perfectly. A ten from me!

Image credit: Derrick Santini

Trending…..

Steatopygous go Septic

If you believe AI, TikTok and the rest of it all suppress Gen Zโ€™s outlets to convey anger and rage, resulting in a generation ofโ€ฆ

The Wurzels To Play At FullTone 2026!

If Devizesโ€™ celebrated FullTone Festival is to relocate to Whistley Roadโ€™s Park Farm for next summerโ€™s extravaganza, what better way to give it the rusticโ€ฆ

DOCAโ€™s Young Urban Digitals

In association with PF Events, Devizes Outdoor Celebratory Arts introduces a Young Urban Digitals course in video mapping and projection mapping for sixteen to twentyโ€ฆ

Jol Roseโ€™s Ragged Stories

Thereโ€™s albums Iโ€™ll go in blind and either be pleasantly surprised, or not. Then thereโ€™s ones which I know Iโ€™m going to love before theโ€ฆ

Vince Bell in the 21st Century!

Unlike Buck Rogers, who made it to the 25th century six hundred years early, Devizesโ€™ most modest acoustic virtuoso arrives at the 21st just shortโ€ฆ