Tag: new wave

Static Moves at The Three Crowns Devizes

Bussing into Devizes Saturday evening, a gaggle (I believe is the appropriate collective noun) of twenty-something girls from Bath already on-board, disembark at The Market Place. One cries out her desperation for the loo, but there’s no detours to another bar en-route for relief, they’re steadfast to their destination, The Three Crowns; a wise choice….

I’m heading that way too, trying to pick up pace and overtake them, so as not to convey I’m some creepy codger following them from the bus! Some lads intervened with a wolf-whistle down the Brittox, I gathered at them and not me. I’ll quip with them to break the ice, in hope they see it’s coincidental that our destinations are the same. It worked, they seemed unconcerned, and giggly.

With a fresh lick of paint it really didn’t need in comparison with others, and a scrumptious selection of designer burgers, The Three Crowns is the go-to pub for gen z coming of age, millennials, and a number of elder diehard party heads who still think they’ve “got it,” because they have, bless ‘em!

But the greatest thing about these cross-generational gatherings at The Three Crowns is the carefree atmosphere without division. Everybody is here to enjoy themselves. They crave a live band to throw high-energy covers at them, era-spanning songs they know, love and can sing along with, and they’ll party trouble-free together. Younger attendees will high five the elders, and dad dancers mingle without mockery, I hoped!!

I’m at the back gate chatting to landlord Simon while tonight’s band is sound checking. It’s this Marlborough-Swindon based band’s debut at The Three Crowns, but I assure him what I suspected, that Static Moves will fit like a glove. Not wanting to blow my own trumpet, but I was bloody right an’ all!

Static Moves are a side-burns, flat caps and pork pie wearing, two-Clives five-piece covers band with keyboards, in self-promoting black t-shirts. Even if these other elements don’t convey Static Moves are bringing a touch of new wave eighties mod retrospection to the table, any band boasting two Clives is a win-win!

Being honest, there have been occasions when I’ve dropped into the Crowns to see a great cover band, yet my desire for originals redirects my zimmer frame over to the trusty Gate, and I’m faced with two half-reviews; not this time. Static Moves are irresistible, and enthral any audience.

The systematics of Static Moves’ repertoire appears to be anything which can be delivered loud and proud like it’s Coventry in 1980 or Madchester in 1990. If a particular song choice isn’t, they make it so it is. Taking no prisoners they were greyhounds out of the starting traps, rarely coming up for air, save a short break.

The frontman isn’t Luciano Pavarotti, needs not to be, but is commandeering, can hold a note, and a dynamic showman, with a habit of launching his tambourine either airborne or into the crowd.

The band compliment the lively mannerisms, though fairly recently formed, all members hold a wealth of experience, which shows. It looks like a tight ship, a new drummer slipping into the kind of camaraderie which reflects onto the audience; they’re having fun, you will too.

Static Moves compact a party into their pocket, and, for want of a less Potterhead analogy, like a Choranaptyxis it expands to fit the available space when they catapult it out upon an anticipated crowd. They told me they were working on some originals, we’ll hold the front page.

There were components to their set, it kicked off seventies, absolutely scorched Primal Scream’s Rocks, then launched tongue-in-cheek into early eighties pop hits like Nena’s 99 Red Balloons, Kim Wilde’s Kids in America and even found time to make one-hit-wonder Tiffany’s smash their own! As you might imagine, this was my personal summit, ‘cos I bought those singles, but I also observed all generations present acknowledging and lapping up those bubblegum classics.

It moved as swiftly as their tempo onto tracks I’d consider were their own favourites, the more less commercial punk anthems like The Buzzcocks, by which time they had the audience eating out of their hands and could’ve pulled any cheesy bygone slush puppy out of their bag and still rinsed it! As it was they took to The Beastie Boys’ Fight for your Right, which was only amusing until they followed it with a grand attempt at Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Despite the diversity, the template of loud and proud prevented pigeonholing, a party band with a big sack of crowd-pleasers and an unrivalled enthusiasm to deliver them. The finale alongside Billy Idol, were millennial showboats, Britpop anthems, you know the one from The Killers, and yeah, they did Wonderwall, but while I deem that cliché, they did it well, and it always gives the youngsters an opportunity to show everyone they have torches on their phones!

Ahem, that’s irrelevant against the positivity of a diverse crowd throwing away their cares for a moment and enjoying themselves. That’s what’s infectious; you’re duty bound to follow suit with a band like Static Moves. I couldn’t physically leave until the deal was fully sealed.

The Three Crowns revel in this infection, and is the reason it bucks the trend of a decline in pub culture. Here is a Devizes lesson in how to do it, they deserve the praise but don’t really need it. Stalwart for a number of years now, most know the Three Crowns is a testament to a memorable night, including, it seems, girls bussing in from Bath. 

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Deadlight Dance New EP Chapter & Verse

Marlborough gothic duo Deadlight Dance are due to release an EP of new material. It’s called Chapter & Verse and it’ll be out on Ray Records on 13th September 2024……

Nick Fletcher and Tim Emery, aka, Deadlight Dance, stripped back a collection of their favourite new wave-goth classics and recorded them at the 12th century All Saints Church in Alton Priors last November, releasing them as an album, The Wiltshire Gothic, in March. If the Wiltshire Gothic excelled in uniqueness for acoustically recreating the sounds which inspired them, Deadlight Dance prove they’re no one trick pony with this new EP, as while it equals to the eminence of The Wiltshire Gothic, it does so for entirely the opposite reasoning.

After this acoustic beauty of echoing mandolins the effect is immediate, Deadlight Dance pull out heavy synths on this EP, a stark difference you may also find in their live gigs, swapping from acoustic to synths at the halfway house. It’s electronica punchy and as positively eighties as the original new wave and gothic songs they covered for The Wiltshire Gothic, of Joy Division, Sisters of Mercy, Fields of the Nephilim, et al, but all five tracks are their own work, completely original.

The only similarities with the last album is that there’s a theme, this time within the subject matter rather than the production, and naturally, it’s as proficiently entertaining. The concept here is something to appease their old English Lit teachers at the Sixth Form where they met, as each track is inspired by a book character, in one word titles. So, the tracks are Montag, Rosemary, Charrington, Judas and Monster, leading me to rustle my mind’s archives as to the books they represent; I got four out of five without Google, honest, sir, do I get a merit mark or something like that?!

Opening sonic, like OMD in their prime, book-burning firefighter Guy Montag of Fahrenheit 451 is the first subject and this is the only tune here which uses a sample, from the 1966 film adaptation I’d imagine, but I’ve not seen it, only read the book like a good boy! Obviously, futurism fears, flames and the controversial connotations of Ray Bradbury’s magnum opus is ideal for a gothic related song, and we are off to an engagingly good start.

The second song is the one I guessed incorrectly, it’s the girlfriend of the neurotic Gordon Comstock in Orwell’s Keep the Aspidistra Flying, Rosemary Waterlow. Concentrating on her relationship frustrations, the song is a haunting echo in plodding synths, again, an ideal candidate for Nick’s howlingly vocals.

Sticking with George Orwell, though this one remains instrumental, the antique dealer come undercover Thought Police agent in Nineteen-Eighty-Four, Mr. Charrington is the next subject. Again, it’s a haunting sound enough, it needs no vocals, it twists in metallic scraping undertone, dark and mysterious futurism, it would evoke the perfect mood for the score to any possible remake, or in turn the soundtrack to the previous UK government who seemed to view Orwell’s masterpiece a self-help guide; apologies, couldn’t resist adding that!

Fourth tune in, is called Judas, no prizes for citing the book it comes from, but after the gloom of Charrington, the sound is surprisingly uplifting, capturing the pop side to classic goth rock, like The Cure. I’m undecided if the song is sympathetic to the actions of Jesus’ grass Judas Iscariot, if it furthers to question the integrity of the bible more generally, or both. But it’s an interesting atheistic angle, and an astutely written song.

There’s a bass stomp verging on techno intro to the final song, Monster, reminding me of a fast coming of Jaws, then the synths swirl and Nick’s off thirty seconds into the melodic narrative of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, or the The Modern Prometheus, a gothic novel indeed. It caused me to consider Frank Miller’s reinvention of Batman, a character who’s mysteriously shadowy edge was lost through the passage of commercialisation, particularly via TV, and how he gifted us The Dark Knight version.

Frankenstein portrayals are so commonplace, and often comical, it obscures the harrowing nature of the original story. As they do with all the book characters here, Deadlight Dance captures the mood, the intensity and torment of Mary Shelly’s monster, through music, as by Sergei Prokofiev captured the characterisations of Peter, the Wolf and other animal side characters. It’s an absorbing prose, excellently manufactured, and brings gothic rock of yore back into the forefront. Not forgoing, when contrasted with the Wiltshire Gothic, it shows diversity in Deadlight Dance, both are returns to “concept” in albums, something dearly overlooked in today’s one track Spotify world. It leaves me wondering where they’ll go next, but feeling confident each new progression will contain cognitive connotations amidst this hail of gothic rock, and these are the elements which makes each release a treasure.

Chapter & Verse will be released on Ray Records on 13th September 2024, across streaming platforms and available to buy on Bandcamp. Follow Deadlight Dance socials to keep in the know.

Find Deadlight Dance supporting Canute’s Plastic Army at the Tuppenny, Swindon on 19th September. 

Also, these:

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“My Dad’s Bigger Than Your Dad” Festival, Old Town Gardens, Swindon July 20th 2024

by Ian and Paul Diddams
photos by Ian Diddams and MDBTYD Festival

The 4th iteration of MDBTYD Festival was held on Saturday at its home of homes, Swindon Town Gardens. Last year Devizine covered the proceedings with Darren venturing northwards, and his thoughts and explanations can be found here

My Dad’s Festival overcomes the rain and raises nearly £9,000 for Prospect Hospice

You can find all the background to the festival in Darren’s post, but I can add that this year in 2024 over £8000 will have been raised as I write this with other monies still coming in – in that vein it’s not too late to donate!  Just follow the link here.

If you CBA to read Darren’s 2023 post, a summary is that the MDBTYD Festival seeks to raise funds for Prospect Hospice in honour and recognition of Dave Young, a mover and shaker in the Swindon music scene before his passing in 2021. This is generously aided by the primary sponsorship of “Future Planning” Independent Financial Planners as well as support from Jovie Grill, Funky Corner Radio, Swindon PA Hire, Jamaican Me Crazy, The Tuppeny, Holmes Music, Vibish Brewery, SPR Garage, The Castle, South Swindon Parish Council, C.P. Jeffries, LF, Mamas Events, T Marshall Services, Originzone, Scarrots fun fairs, Hills and Platinum Security services.


While not totally perfect, nonetheless the weather this year was better than last year’s it has to be said although that bar was pretty low! Nine hundred souls joined in the fun in Old Town Gardens, and as in previous years enjoyed acts both in the festival arena on the main stage but also in the Acoustic stage in the band stand in the main park, as well as the craft market and fair ground. In fact it must be said so incessant was the music offerings in the main arena that these correspondents hardly managed to get to the Acoustic stage but that is no slight on the acts there – and if “Plummie Racket” was anything to go by when we did manage to squeeze a couple of numbers in the quality was high! For future reference to the great Devizine readership, the acoustic stage, craft market and fairground is open to the public though Im sure anybody availing themselves of the “free” offerings would be chucking a suitable donation in a bucket online of course.


So – the main arena. What a cornucopia of delights! All Swindon/Wiltshire based bands with local followings and the standard started high and maintained itself throughout. Without going into glorious technicolour detail across the board (else we’d be here until Christmas writing and reading it all) our musical pleasure zones were in turn tickled by “Copper Creek” with Americana style folk to start the toes a-tapping, “Broken Daylight” & “JB and The Mojo Makers” each with their own brand of driving rock and blues, and then “I See Orange” – a quite excellent Grunge, hard edged band with on stage attitude par excellence…  sporting a bright orange bass…  what came first the band name or the bass we wondered?!  “Thud” blew us away with more driving bluesy rock and were followed by the stunningly vocalled “Joli & The Souls”.
And lets not forget the “surprise” visits from “Ministry of Samba” !!


Eventually as evening began the crowd got what many were here to see – “The Chaos Brothers” an eclectic mix of punk, glam and new wave covers from Calne and Dave Young’s last band. And thence to the total treat of “Gaz Brookfield and The Company of Thieves”.  Gaz is well known in these parts as a solo performer, but he has appeared for quite some while periodically with a bunch of assorted ne’er do wells “The Company of Thieves” and its becoming more common I have noticed of late for the full band experience to occur. But whether solo or a-Company-d (see what I did there?) Gaz’s tunes are a roller coaster of emotions from poignant, to laugh aloud, to reflective, to angry. He – and the Thieves – never disappoint.

Sadly our carriage awaited to return us to the depths of the county and Devizes so we missed SN Dubstation but their reputation precedes them and I have no doubt they were their spectacularly entertaining selves 🙂

Now of course festivals are so much more than the bands of course. There is one area that is on the lips of seemingly every festival goer to every festival I discuss …  the LOOS! Well, the loos were sparklingly clean, delightfully fresh on the nostrils and plentiful – I never had to queue all day! The bar – another important aspect of festival days of course – did have queues but that is testimony to the excellence of the products available and it is always lovely to spend time chatting to other attendees. On a personal note, we both felt the beer offering was absolutely spot on …  a Vibish pale ale with a hint of Melon (a nod to Dave Young’s quote that he didn’t want his beer to taste of melon!).  The bar was provisioned by “The Tuppeny” with some proceeds going to Prospect Hospice too.  That of course just leaves – the food! The usual popular array of burgers, hot dogs, and hog roast – and chips! – from “Jovie Grill”, but another personal hats off to “Jamaican Me Crazy” for their fantastic Caribbean food …  curry goat, jerked chicken, rice and peas etc. etc. etc. Simply great!


And so the day came to an end. It had flown by – a tribute to the high standard of acts and the enjoyment of the day. MDBTYD 2025 planning is already under way and it is sure to be even better if that is possible than this year’s.

See ya there ?

https://www.mydadsbiggerthanyourdad.co.uk/

And for more musical splendiferousness in the same vein for Prospect Hospice is the upcoming “The Shuffle” – Swindon’s biggest festival of unsigned grassroots music, 12th-15th September!

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Beyond Reverence: Deadlight Dance’s Debut Album

According to the confines of youth cultures of yore, I shouldn’t like Marlborough-based duo Deadlight Dance’s debut album, Beyond Reverence, as while attempts to fit into my new surroundings of Marlborough meant my teenage musical tastes meandered in a rock direction, I drew the line at “goth,” but on matured and eclectic reflection, still don’t like this, I love it……

Released on Friday (15th September 2023) the sublime Beyond Reverence will be digitally available via Ray Records. You can download it via Bandcamp, stream from all platforms, and a special small run of limited-edition CDs will be available through the band; I suggest you take one of these options, it goes way beyond my expectations.

The two-and-a-half-minute sombre bassline peregrination overture to the opening track, Nice Things sets mood and pace, and I’m knee-deep in retrospective melancholy, the desired effect I’d imagine. Contemplating growing up in suburban Essex, a friend of my elder brother, so cool attired in the look of the new romantic, all frilly shirt sleeves, black eyeliner, all Adam Ant, whereas I? Standard hand-me-downs! He gave my brother a new wave electronica mix tape I adored. Echoing the pop of the era, ergo, I was unaware though already accustomed, to a degree, just later washed away with the carefree and whimsical hip hop and electro fashion, pre-acts jumping the incensed bandwagon post Grandmaster Melle Mel’s The Message.

To reaccept the dejected goth element of new wave electronica would take puberty, frustration at the bling and gun direction hip hop was heading and attempts to acclimatise to the west country rural village I found myself dumped in. Solace in the wild romantic fantasy of soft metal and general rock like Springsteen I discovered, but those “goth” pupils of St Johns would require a radical shift to modify myself to. One of those St John’s pupils was Tim Emery, one half of the Deadlight Dance duo, something we can laugh about now, but then, I wasn’t ready for the plunge, no matter how newfound schoolfriends supplied me with Sisters of Mercy and The Fields of the Nephilim tapes. I ventured as far as the Cure, but only to improve my chances of getting off with girls; it failed miserably, but that’s another story for another time!

The origins of Deadlight Dance stem back to 1989, the year I left St Johns, when Tim formed a short-lived Sixth Form goth band with Nick Fletcher. Friends for the best part of thirty-five years, the two periodically worked on music together. Born from lockdown, Deadlight Dance is a project to merge their favoured retrospective bands, The Cult and The Mission, with contemporary acts like Bragolin, Actors, Twin Tribes and Molchat Doma.

Story goes, during an initial jam Tim “finally convinced Nick to sing,” a turnaround from the original collective idea to source guest singers. But it’s in Nick’s deep growling vocals and the elegant synths of the second tune, Innocent Beginnings, and up-tempo haunting Infectious where I get these reflections of the roots of gothic, the ominous, Bowie-esque component of new wave electronica, particularly of Joy Division, and herein lies my reasoning for taking to Beyond Reverence, even if I’m not about to dye what’s left of my hair black anytime soon!

At eleven tracks strong the album is epic, evolved from an original intention to record an EP, another crisp and proficient achievement for Nick Beere’s Mooncalf Studios. While the sound is retrospective themes are of contemporary social conscience, Innocent Beginnings comments on the environment, the following, Dark Circles about autism. Though the single Missives from the Sisters sticks to true goth prose, a classic tale of misogyny set in the time of witchcraft, and being “goth” it levels on this topic appropriately, and duly sullen. Though there’s a lot here which suggests you need not be in the niche, it has wider appeal than I imagined it might.

There’s an interesting instrumental interlude, Samuri Sunrise, which reprises a Sunset at the finale, with four tunes between them, two unorthodox cover choices. A quirky interpretation of Lou Reed’s I’m Waiting for my Man I get, but the latter I was far from suspecting, a sorrowing rendition of Heartbreak Hotel you must hear for yourself!

Deadlight Dance are picking up radio play, and while usually they go out with pre-recorded synths and drum tracks, they equally operate acoustically on mandocellos and mandolins. If you came to my birthday bash early enough to find me semi-sober, you’ll have seen them, they’re opening the Saturday shift at the Beehive at Swindon Shuffle this weekend, alongside Concrete Prairie, the Lonely Road Band, Atari Pilot and Liddington Hill. Thursday 21st sees them at Nick Beere’s open mic at the Mildenhall Horseshoe, and Saturday 23rd they support Ghost Dance at Bath’s coolest record shop Chapter 22. They are delighted to be included on the bill of the legendary All that is Divine VI Festival in London in 2024, and with big plans I’m left with no doubt this album will push this the maximum.

Beyond Reverence is up for pre-order on Bandcamp, released tomorrow 15th September 2023. Find Deadlight Dance’s Website HERE, and on Facebook & Instagram. Find your inner goth and cheer them up a bit with this nice present, I enjoyed it so much I’m going to see if my lace trim gothic corset still fits and try it with this spikey rivet leather neck collar; somebody draw me a pentagram pronto!  

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The Lucky Stars of The Radio Makers

Bristol-based The Radio Makers have laboured over their forthcoming album Lucky Stars (Got My Radio) for four years, and it shows; you’ll find out for yourself how that toil has paid off on its release next Monday, 7th August……

Though decidedly new wave throughout, Lucky Stars begins as if we’re retracing steps from punk to the new wave era. Reverberating vibes of post-punk the album kicks rock straight out at you; Edible Hearts is borderline punk, but the followup, Echoes immediately signifies that change to the new wave movement. We’ve gone from something which wouldn’t look out of place on an eighties Joel Schumacher or Tim Burton soundtrack, to something perhaps more for John Hughes, in just two tunes. Going on this alone, I’m slouching back in my chair in anticipation for a substantial slice of retrospective goodness, and I got it.

Then, Jo-Jo slows the tempo, with subtle hints of goth drone, we’re progressing through the era, with black eyeliner and a bottle of Chinazo, because that’s the only booze the woman we asked outside the off licence would buy for us! Now, if you’ve been there, outcast youth of 88, attired for the Batcave, all is not lost to Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift; Song For Rainy Afternoons perhaps belts out the best hook so far, but by halfway through we’re still plodding on a steady goth tempo. Girl Who Looks Like You surely confirms gothic dominance, sitting comfy somewhere between Killing Joke and Bauhaus. Stands to reason, Lucky Stars is produced by Steve Evansson who has worked with Siouxsie Sioux.

Recorded at EAM and NAM studios in Wiltshire, the Radio Makers describe their album as “songs about love, life and people,” which fits like a glove into the kind of subject matter of the common prose of the genre. By subject, even if ironic, I’m a Poseur chants back into that Bowie glam punk, particularly noticeable on this wonderful bridge and slam back in, if there’s going to be a sing-a-long on this grower, it’s this.

And then the title track comes across as being in the period all these new waves bands realised they needed some more Chinazo and had to aim for chart success. Never could they have dolloped the toilet doings of modern day pop, at the time, but as The Cure developed into the near-acceptable face of goth-rock, this turn in the album suggests to me that it has not been overlooked either. It’s no bad “selling out” type thing, in fact it bought the subgenre crashing a tsunami over the defensible face of new romanticism slush of a mainstream 1986, and for those who may have listened to Duran Duran, were now turning to Joy Division and Sisters of Mercy.

Course, you’ll be totally engulfed by the eighth tune to concern yourself with pigeonholing; I only do it in a best attempt to define a sound, so you’ll have some idea of what you’re getting. Though I often felt like a window-shopper in this general genre, at the time, The Radio Makers is one of those bands which makes you realise the worth of the depths of a epoch, and wish, if you could travel back in time, you’d be leatherman draped in velvet, with fishnet stockings and black painted fingernails! Talk About You, is a perfect example, a drifting ballad finale of precision and skill, and it polishes this moreish album adroitly. 

 A nimble and captivating pilgrimage to an era of yore, with compelling freshness; well played, indeed.

It will be available on CD and 12” vinyl (from The Radio Makers’ BandCamp page) and on all digital platforms. A mini launch tour takes them to Le Pub, Newport – Friday 4th August, Hen and Chicken, Bedminster, Bristol for the official album launch party on Saturday 5th August, with Deadlight Dance in support. Then at the Three Horseshoes, Bradford-on-Avon on Friday 11th August, Bristol HMV, Saturday 12th.

They play Box Rocks Festival at The Queens Head, Box on Monday 28th August, previewed here. Party in the Park, Filton, Bristol on Saturday 16th September, and appear at Bath HMV, on Saturday 23rd September.

Devizes Scooter Rally 2023

Have rally will travel; seemingly the scooterist’s motto, chatting to various friendly clubs nationwide, and individuals too, such as a dapper lone mod who rode up from Bridport on a three hour trek, while loitering with a pint of Thatchers in a field at Lower Farm on the Whistley Road. Overall, it’s more than fair to say, thanks to Devizes Scooter Club’s valiant and sedulous toil, Devizes is firmly on the map of must-do scooter rallies…. 

It would, without this blossoming national appeal have been a massively lesser affair; scooter culture being niche and though a blanket term retrospectively  incorporating mod, skinhead and punk subcultures, isn’t, perhaps, appealing to enough locally to have successfully created something on this grand scale. Those local aficionados, or even with a passing interest in the scene therefore are truly treated, as Devizes Scooter Rally this weekend was spectacular.

There’s various reasons for saying this; a hospitable atmosphere throughout the event from attendees and organisers, a controlled and diligent attitude to structure, the underlying notion you’re not going to get ripped off at the bar or elsewhere, a donation to The Devizes & District Opportunity Centre, a worthy charity indeed, a calculatedly perfect site design from bar, venue to campsite, a wide variety of side stalls, and an apt music programme of talented bands and DJs, but mostly, it was the combination of them all which made it as fantastic as it was.

41 Fords

I spent the finale late night moments with some of the club’s valid members, as they reviewed an overall of the weekend, discussing rights against possible improvements. And with expandable site potential, just how far the annual rally could blossom before it becomes less congenial. As such they’ve set the date for 2024, 26th-28th July; if you missed this weekend put it in your diary, if you went I’d imagine you already have!

Sharp Class

So, I rocked up to wet my whistle on Friday, eager to catch up with those Trowbridge rockabilly stalwarts, 41 Fords, and witness Brighton’s revitalised mod marvels Sharp Class. Being there was another day to come, and I wanted to see you there Saturday, I knocked up a quick review of it: HERE. Saturday though, I’m on Shanks’s pony and up for a party; which was delivered to me uncompromisingly.

Apologies, too late to catch The Butterfly Collective, but my arrival coincided with the Roughcut Rebels’ set. Haven’t seen them since Mark moved to pastures new, but Jimmy Moore makes for a great frontman stand-in for Finley, and it was business as usual for this locally renowned Britpop mod band who plucked covers, like Wonderwall, otherwise cliché if not delivered by such an enthralling group from their extensive repertoire. 

Roughcut Rebels, with added Jimmy Moore!

Next up a rare treat, Cath and Gouldy concentrating rather on wider variated Day Breakers outfit, and folk duo Sound Affects, but to have them back under The Killertones guise both more apt for the occasion and a delightful return to their new-wave-two-tone covers set. It was as whatever guise they operate on, perfected and bewitching, with vast improvements from already proficient young drummer, Katy York.

The Killertones

There was me figuring they’d peaked too soon, after ska classics like Pressure Drop, to speed into uptempo two-tone, like The Specials’ Little Bitch and Rancid’s Timebomb, but a sublime set slid nicely into new wave, particularly adroit being The Chords’ Maybe Tomorrow; dammit if Gouldy didn’t go all Morten Harket on us with an offbeat Take on Me, such a rework finale left the crowd spellbound and me realising how much I’d missed these guys!

With Terry Hendrick’s Soul Pressure on the wheels of steel while the headliners set up, a fashion to see the rally into the wee hours, betwixt it regulars at the rally, the south-coast’s longest established ska ensemble Orange Street ripped the roof off.

Terry Hendrick

I could’ve predicted it such, but it didn’t affect the show’s infectious appeal. At an eight-piece complete with brass section, Orange Street are a highly capable homage to Jamaica’s “first national sound,” which infatuated the youths of sixties Jamaica, and thereafter spread worldwide through era-spanning waves. The second wave most memorable to Britain through Windrush exports appealing to mods; the tsunami known as Two-Tone. And to which the band rightfully nodded to, but also provided original engaging material which fits like a glove into such a set. 

Orange Street

The effect is akin to the attraction of the offbeat backwards shuffle, ska, which Prince Buster accidentally discovered during a recording session at Duke Reid’s studio Treasure Isle, not only reflects in the band name, the studio alongside Coxonne Dodd’s Studio One, both located on this legendary Kingston street, the equivalent of Nashville’s Music Row for reggae, but also in their performance which kicked off with a interlude of Madness’s Buster tribute, The Prince. Though it wasn’t long before the opening medley flowed neatly into the Specials’ Dog the Dog, and thereafter the whole spectrum of ska UK chart hits from Bad Manners to The Beat.

While other similar bands attempt to fuse later reggae styles, punk, or general electronica, Orange Street remain faithful to the roots and are therefore a premium choice for an event like this, cradled by a culture nostalgically devoted to it too. And in such, the event is so encapsulating there’s a jollity in the air impossible to hide. Coupled with the wider appeal outside the atypical scooter rally, with this extended and blossoming setup which had taken the Scooter Club weeks to set up, this is rather of festival proportions and equally as brilliant. 

It only leads be to heartfeltly thank and congratulate The Devizes Scooter Club for bringing us another astounding event which offers diversity to our local music circuit, a jolly good beano, and also attracts nationwide fans to our area…even if I’ve been hearing their hairdryers zipping back and forth the dual carriageway all weekend!!

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Devizes Chamber Choir Christmas Concert

It’s not Christmas until the choir sings, and Devizes Chamber Choir intend to do precisely this by announcing their Christmas Concert, as they have done…

Steatopygous go Septic

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Deadlight Dance of the Dabchicks, and another Painted Bird

Glad I went to Aldbourne, for a freebie trio of must-see bands, including Siouxsie and the Banshees tribute Painted Bird, it was a great night, but…..

In 1987 I was but a 14 year-old Essex suburbian lad, who got his first taste of rural Wiltshire peering out of the back window of his Dad’s car to the Square in Aldbourne, realising places like this really exsist outside of picture books and peroid dramas.

Concerns of fitting into life in my new home never dawned on me, let alone how the natives would feel about my being here. Oblivious to cliqueines and class, snobby village girls turned their noses up while lesser-so ones seemed intrigued. I guess I was somewhat “exotic,” if “chav” before the word was even repopularised!

Maybe it was the latter which caused my male peers to view me as a threat, maybe it was because I was different, but for whatever insular reasoning some bestowed an abhorrence of me which came to an apex when I attempted a night at the social club, and a gang chased me all the way home. I never returned, until now.

Thirty-five years later I confess a slight feeling of apprehension, sitting in my car in the Square planning to enter the club. Moreso to see it in exactly the same location, up exactly the same stairs. Surely they’ve matured too, I’m as Wiltshire as lardy cake now, and they’ve ditched their pitchforks?!

A nostalgic side to me felt pleased to be here, after so long. Here for two reasons, firstly to see old school associate Tim, who I was reunited with at Mantonfest as bassist for Richard Davies & the Dissidents, in the newly formed duo Deadlight Dance, with his former sixform buddy, Nick. The pair have worked together in various groups since their sixform band, and Tim confided he liked it this way, just a simple friendly formula.

But this evening’s entertainment is a trio of bands, all with an Aldbourne connection. The second reason was to tick headline act, Painted Bird off my must-see list, a local Siouxsie and the Banshees tribute I’ve heard all good things about. I find the backstories of tribute acts fascinating, and why they chose the artist they did to attribute, particularly when it’s such a unique choice as Siouxsie Sioux.

Real name Nancy Jean, I set out firstly to discover her connection to the village by asking her if she was a Dabchick. For those unaware, it’s the name for those born in the village based on a folklore rare appearance of one on the village pond. But Nancy’s response in a rich Californian accent answered the question; she was married to her drummer, a born and bred dabchick, and they live in the village.

Nancy explained she had fronted a Siouxsie and the Banshees tribute in LA, applied for a similar role here, and created her own band around it. And I’m happy to report, they’re a highly skilled four-piece, able to recreate the magic of the punk era legends in an entertaining and accurate way. Nancy was also keen to point out the music took presidence over the look, still she looked and acted the part with meticulous precison too.

It was a superb show, as lively as retro-punk should be, and perfected, as they trekked through the discography of the Banshees and polished it off with two remaining tunes from a new project using the same band for original sounds under the banner KGB, which though twisted the style to metal, the punk imprint of the tribute remained subtly evident, which was fine by me and the enthused and tipsy crowd.

And it was a bloody good gig, with hospitable locals and staff. Leaving my preconceptions outside, this was quite the opposite of the shithole akin to someone’s garage with a few scattered pub tables in it it once was, but a modest contemporary function room, comfy and affordable; something every village needs but few seem to have aquired. Aldbourne should be proud. But all should note, I don’t hold a grudge against an entire village for the aforementioned incident, it’s water under the bridge, and besides, I’m fully aware a similar occurence would’ve happened in whatever village we landed in; just bored teenagers with nought else to do.

For the record both young and old were in attendance, age demographics know no boundaries at village venues, as Deadlight Dance kicked off proceedings.

Eighties new wave electronica is their game, angled toward the gothic alternative, which they executed with finesse and emotion. From a few originals Nick explained they were taking into the studio, to expected covers of Bauhaus and Joy Divison, it was the sort of serious music venue appreciation society type stuff, rather than universal village hall. Though what was particularly adriot in their set was a rendition of Heartbreak Hotel in their house style.

That said, if Devizes has an affectionate for electric blues, go east to discover a similar penchant for post punk, so this worked, and I stood beside goths and locals, equally appeased. It was almost like being back at St Johns in the eighties, save for lack of trippy science teacher, Dr Dodd!

Next up were also residents and bought their fanclub with them as they bounced on stage and wasted no time in blasting traditional punk covers from the dawn of the shortlived detonation direct into our faces. The Racket, they called themselves, and they were, though an accomplished racket, and it’s a guaranteed win-win to rouse a middle-aged audience with Ramones, Dammed, Elvis Costello and Blondie covers. Most diverse with a punky version of Kids From America, the Racket make for an ideal function band, for the aging punk aficionado. The girl upfront passionate about reproducing the genre, appeared as a cross between Debbie Harry and Katherine Tate, as though it bore hit parade pastiche of the lost era, they did it with bells on, and were as lively as the need be.

Then it was time for Nancy and her band, the bassist of which we’d seen guest in Deadlight Dance, to steal the show. Proir she asked me if I liked Siouxsie, and though I confirmed I did, made excuses for not being totally clued up. “You’ll know more than you think,” she responded, “we play all the hits.” And she was blooming right too, as their perfect renditions paid homage to Siouxsie and the Banshees, track recognition fell neatly out of my brain’s archive like a slot machine.

Locally touring with Mark Colton’s Blockheads tribute, Dury Duty, if tributes reside with no middle-ground, either being absolute shit, or absolutely brilliant, I’m pleased to report it’s the latter with Painted Bird. Local circuits tend not to clash, but any one of these featured acts should be made to feel more than welcome to pass border control and play the Vizes. Book em, Dano, and put their name in cutout newspaper letters for a poster!

Punk, alive and well and living in Aldbourne; who’d have thought it?!

Scott Lavene’s Milk City Sweethearts

We’ve had a spate of comical albums coming in for review, what with Death of Guitar Pop, Mr B the Gentleman Rhymer and now this, which is by far the darkest, consequently most poignant. Songwriter and raconteur Scott Lavene returns this Friday (17th September) with Milk City Sweethearts, an album of new material…..

There’s intelligent and thought-provoking arch-beat poetry chatted here, an amphetamine-induced self-evaluation of an ordinary Essex boy, delivered passionately with a witty edge you cannot ignore. Something of an oddity at times, random prose seemingly slotted erratically fall into place with a running theme of this hopeless romantic, as the album progresses.

Behind a variation of backbeats, often being post-punk, as is Scott’s roots, yet fluctuating through new romantic electronica and eighties mod revival, are honest and blunt chronicles of love, loss, coming of age, in effect making for a memorable kind of album, border-crossing Ian Dury with Sleaford Mods; a Mike Skinner of The Streets in the Bowie or Jam era, or a psychedelic Gecko.

Humbly wry, the observations of his imprudent past come back to haunt him, as he retells heartfelt autobiography. The Ballad of Lynsey being the particularly touching example, telling of a potential everlasting love, but lasting only year due to differences, with the revealing chorus, “I choose amphetamines over you.”  

If I’ve made this sound despondent and somewhat depressing, while yeah there is that, Scott’s witty charisma teeters atop at even the gloomiest synopsises with clever wordplay and metaphors. And besides, not every track is quite so melancholic. In fact, it begins very much with the aforementioned mod revival style. Upbeat opening tune, Nigel, is especially comical, expressing the strangeness of individual’s choice of “kicks.” Likewise, The First-Time reels off an amusing list of first experiences with the annotation, “one day there’ll be a last.” It’s all very Essex lad Talking Heads, Phil Daniels chatting on Blur’s Parklife, etc.

Art-pop carries over when the mod revival moves over for a new wave electronica feel as the album progresses, by the third tune, The Earth Don’t Spin, it’s very much more Stephan Tintin Duffy than Weller. For all the credentials and comparisons mentioned, there’s no cliché, everything here is uniquely composed and written originally, and Milk City Sweethearts isa listener, not the sort of long-player you can pause and pick up again, you’ll be impelled to digest it one sitting.

A master storyteller astutely aware of when and how to evoke the correct emotions, and find unusual thoughts to everyday scenarios. The farewell to deceased finale, Say Hello to Zeus, is as Bowie, simply inimitable and inducing. Whereas halfway through gives us the laugh-out-loud Walk Away is Essex humour at its very best.

Closest you’ll get to see him to here is Bath’s Komedia on the 12th December, for now this masterful album, out via Nothing Fancy Records, is interesting, to say the least, an essential item for enthusiasts of the quirky and unusual, making the world seem that much smaller, and amusing, for lonely hearts.

I’m quite happy, thank you, but loved it nonetheless, cos it ain’t always been that way. And that’s it, right there, I figure it’s not only my association Scott is from my motherland, but there’s something I think anyone with a heart will identify with here, and that’s something really rather special.

WIN 2 tickets HERE

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The Wurzels To Play At FullTone 2026!

If Devizes’ celebrated FullTone Festival is to relocate to Whistley Road’s Park Farm for next summer’s extravaganza, what better way to give it the rustic…

DOCA’s Young Urban Digitals

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Jol Rose’s Ragged Stories

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Vince Bell in the 21st Century!

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Deadlight Dance New Single: Gloss

You go cover yourself in hormone messing phthalates, toxic formaldehyde, or even I Can’t Believe It’s Not Body Butter, if you wish, but it’s all…

Cult Figures; Deritend, Yes Mate!

It’s not just me, is it? Eighteen seconds into the Cult’s She Sells Sanctuary, you know, when it breaks, and you’re like, that’s it, right there. It matters not what youth culture you were into, at the time, or even now, it doesn’t give a hoot about your favoured genres, haircut, colour of anorak, age, gender or race, it just does it, and you, you’re like, as I said, that’s it, right there.

Something similar happens with this Cult Figures album Deritend, out last week; heck, if they haven’t even got a comparable name. Perhaps not so nostalgia-filled, as these are all originals, though the sound harks back to an era or yore, when cookies were in a biscuit barrel rather than your web browser, Tories were governed a demoness made from iron rather than a clown made of teddy bear stuffing, and a wet wipe was when your mum spat into a handkerchief and wiped it over your Space-Dust covered chops.

Mind, as happens when I’m sent files not numbered, it lists them alphabetically rather than in the running order, so the opening track is actually the penultimate Camping in the Rain, but it makes the perfect intro into the world of these London-based masters of retrospection. From its off, it’s, well, off, leaving me to reminisce about those classic post-punk new wave bands of the eighties. At times though, as it’s a mesh of this and reflective of the scooterist mod culture of same period, I’m thinking of the likes of the Jam and Merton Parkas too. Contemplate the musical differences are subtle, though worlds apart at the time, and this sits comfortably somewhere in-between.

To add to their perfection of authenticity, one must note this is the second album from Cult Figures, and is comprised of tracks written in their earlier incarnation between 1977 and 1980, just recorded more recently.

The real opening tune, Chicken Bones, has the same impact, something beguiling and anthemic, setting the way it’s going to go down. Donut Life, which follows, sounds like carefree pop, the Chords, for a comparison. In fact, as it progresses the guitar riffs of next tune, Lights Out, is sounding more pre-gothic, Joy Division, yet with a catchy whistle more akin to The Piranhas. Things get really poignant with Exile, almost dub Visage meets the Clash, and Omen extenuates the seriousness of a running theme.  

“Deritend draws a line under the past,” they explain, “all eleven tracks composed and recorded since our 2016 comeback, simultaneously reflecting a maturity gained in 40 years of life experience, whilst still embracing the accessible three Ps of the early days; punk, pop and psychedelia.” The album’s title owes to a historic industrial area outside Birmingham’s centre, “a few miles from where Gary and I grew up.”

The mysterious iconic name was a bus route terminus and has a strong emotional connection to the band, “evoking the nervous excitement of those long rides into town on our way to Barbarellas. But it conveys so much more: Deritend is an album that reflects on the past, speculates on the future, but for the most part is fairly and squarely a comment on the lives we are living now.” They convey this well, for through its retrospection, subject matter, growing up with the dilapidation of a working-class industrial chip, could equally apply to then, or now.

A timeless piece of art within a captivating musical style which embraces the traditions of generation X, just curled up at an edge like an old poster on the congregated iron fence of a closed factory. I mean Silver Blades and White Noise crave you dive back into punk; there’s a definite Clash feel to the latter. As girl’s names for titles generally do, Julie-Anne is archetypical upbeat but themed of desire, and the sound of it is particularly challenging to pin down, there’s Weller there, but a drum roll you’d expect Annabella Lwin to surface from (of Bow Wow Wow if you need to, Google it, youngster!)

Most bizarre and experimental is the brilliantly executed talky sound of Concrete and Glass. Cast your mind back to 86, if poss, remember Jim’s tune, yeah? Driving Away From Home by It’s Immaterial, and you’re not far from the mark.

The aforementioned Camping in the Rain which could’ve been the opening track, is next, and it’s the epithet of all we’ve mentioned. This combination is not juxtaposed cumbersomely like a tribute act, rather the genuine article lost in time, and it, well, in a nutshell, absolutely rocks. The finale, Privilege is plentiful to summarise; Clash-styled punk rock, themed on the expectations of irritated propertyless youth, akin to Jimmy Cliff’s You Can Get It If You Really Want.

But, unless all you want is a zig-a-zig-ah and to spice up your life with commercialised bubble-gum pop, nothing here is oven-ready for criticism, just relish yourself in a bygone era, and rock.

The Lost Trades Live Stream their new album on Friday; tickets here

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Six Reasons to Rock in Market Lavington

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Very Terry Edwards

The word “very,” rarely an adjective, as in “it happened in this very house,” or “this is very Terry Edwards,” but commonly worthlessly used as an adverb, as in “it’s very cold today,” or “this is the very best of Terry Edwards.” While the album simplifies it to the ambiguous “Very Terry Edwards,” it’s BandCamp page suggests, “The Very Best of Very Terry Edwards,” which though it’s exactly what it is, it’s also one adverb enough for the most lenient of proof-reader’s red line. Yet, if the usage of very is erm, very worthless, it is the only thing on this album which is.

The multi-instrumentalist, best known for trumpet, flugelhorn, saxophone, guitar and keys, marked his sixtieth birthday last September releasing this three-CD best-of box set, and while I should’ve mentioned it last month, between putting batteries in toys and stuffing myself with pigs in blankets things got tardy. Right now, though, I can think of no better outstanding project to kick off our music reviews for 2021. Reason only partly because it ticks all my personal favourite genre boxes, more so because of the range of said genres is far greater than run-of-the-mill best of compilations.

We need to assess Terry’s biography to understand the reason for this variety. Funky punk and second-gen ska most obvious, as from 1980 he was a founding member of Two-Tone signed band The Higsons, after graduating with a degree in music. But around that time Terry also produced and played on the Yeah Jazz’s debut album, of whom, despite the name, were particularly folk-rock.

Terry in 1984

From here the vastness of Terry’s repertoire blossoms, as session musician for a huge range of acts, from Madness to Nick Cave, PJ Harvey and The Jesus and Mary Chain to, particularly notable, The Blockheads. As well as his solo material, with his band The Scapegoats and a stint with dark punk-blues outfit Gallon Drunk, it’s understandable collating this in one reminiscent anthology is a mammoth task and a melting pot. Which is just what you’re getting for your money, a very, as the grammatical disorderly title suggests, worthy melting pot.

“When the earliest recording here was made the 18-year-old me couldn’t comprehend being 60,” Terry explained, “yet here I am presenting a triple album containing 60 titles recorded between 1979 and 2020, through thick and thin.” Therefore, it must be more tongue-in-cheek than I’d suspect Roger Daltrey’s notion now of My Generation’s lyrics that for the opening track he opted for The Higsons’ “We Will Never Grow Old.”

“You’d expect an overview of my career to have some odd bedfellows and more than its share of quirks and foibles,” he continued, “but it’s been compiled to flow musically rather than have a chronological narrative.”

That said, the first four tunes from his original band follow, with all their fervent rawness. Terry covered his tracks though, “I immediately break my own rules by starting with The Higsons’ earliest release and debut single, but redeem myself by following up with the most recent recordings; two ballads recorded with Paul Cuddeford (Ian Hunter, Holy Holy) in February 2020. There is more method than madness; groups of songs which follow a theme or genre are found together regardless of when they’re from.” Indeed, we’re then treated to three tunes in a matured, mellowing jazz and blues, the latter of which with the vocally perfected Erika Stucky.

Then we’re into rock with The Wolfhounds, and a guitar-twanging Christmas blues song with Robyn Hitchcock, plodding jazz with Knife & Fork, post-punk Big Joan, avant-garde jazz with Spleen and rockabilly styled New York New York. While mostly jazz-related, this first disc graduates through genres with finesse.

Terry is like Georgie Fame with a Mohican, but whatever avenue is explored, you can guarantee quality. The second CD starts with a bang, upbeat mod-jazz with The Scapegoats. There’re more known covers here, sublimely executed Herbie Hancock’s Watermelon Man, a superb solo rendition of The Cure’s Friday I’m in Love, as if Robert Smith wore a Fred Perry, and a hard-rock electronica version of Johnny Kidd’s Shakin all Over with the haunting vocals of Lisa Ronson. Even find an orchestral film score, and a piano solo of the knees-up capital’s favourite, May It’s Because I’m a Londoner.

Yet if both the quantity and quality on offer here is so vast to make me waffle, it doesn’t waiver for the final disc, rather it’s my favourite. A BBC session outtake of a jazzy Voodoo Chile, with altered title to “Child.” Dunno, can’t be a typo, the dedication to attributing to Hendrix’s masterpiece is no easy feat, lest it be known Terry manages it with awesomeness dexterity, with a saxophone!

If the last CD continues with on a jazz tip for two tunes, we’re transported to ska via John Holt’s Ali Baba by Lee Thompson’s Ska Orchestra and other sundry members of Madness, and Totally Wired by Terry’s “Ska All Stars,” and more ska-jazz with Rhoda Dakar. Post-punk follows, featuring The Nightingales with Vic Goddard, Snuff, Glen Matlock and Gallon Drunk. Perhaps my favourite parts being the shouty cover of The Human Leagues’ “Don’t you Want Me Baby,” by Serious Drinking, and the general dilapidation of seriousness with new wave tunes mirroring the unsubtlety of Ian Dury & The Blockheads.

Here’s a jam-packed box-set brimming with variety which flows suitably and makes a definitive portfolio of a particularly prolific and proficient musician. For many it’ll hold fond memories, for younger, who think Kate Nash created the cockney chat-rap, or jazz wasn’t the same until Jamie Cullum came along, it’s a history lesson they’ll never forget!

This 60th birthday, 60 track-strong celebration spans over four decades. A triple CD clamshell boxset with 24-page booklet, but more importantly they say, “Very Terry Edwards is a birthday present to himself as much as anything else,” giving it the impression you’re on a personal journey, like a child sitting on their grandpa’s lap while he recites memoirs, blinking exciting ones!

Buy from Rough Trade: £15.99 or BandCamp: £15 or £8 digital.

Bonnie Weather: New Single From Swindon’s RnB Star, Weather

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Wiltshire Music Awards 2025 Partnership with Stone Circle Music Events

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Swindon Branch of Your Party is Growing

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