Becca Mauleโ€™s Teenage Things

I mean, yeah, press releases can be as handy as sitting next to Einstein in a physics test, but reviewing music isnโ€™t an exact science, and while they speed up the process itโ€™s tempting to allow them to spoon-feed you. Sometimes itโ€™s a pleasant surprise to go in blind, as it was with Teenage Things, the debut EP from Salisburyโ€™s young singer-songwriter Becca Maule, due out this Saturday, the 15th Julyโ€ฆ..

I donโ€™t know why, perhaps taken in by earlier images of Becca sporting a pink bob, and by her supporting Carsick, but as Iโ€™ve not had the opportunity to catch her performing I dove in with a preconception this was going to be an all-out riot grrrl explosive thrash of punker style emotional outpouring with little to credit her with other than, well, that was loud!

What I hadnโ€™t taken into account was it was produced at Haxtonโ€™s Tunnel Rat Studios with backing by Jolyon Dixon, the studioโ€™s wizard and one half of duo Illingworth, and as a result itโ€™s a dreamy soundscape over acoustic goodness, as is the style Illingworth also purveys. But if the drifting musical ambience has something Pink Floyd-come-melancholic indie, like The Verve or Radiohead, about it, Beccaโ€™s voguish and relaxed vocals breath the freshness and vigour of youth into this, and it flows sublimely.

Opening tune Mother Nature is an obloquy commentary on the political ignorance of environmental concerns, and as such while Beccaโ€™s self-penned vilification drifts causally alongside the sound, this observation gives in to a spiralling angle of fury; a definite slice of the punk I was expecting slowly builds throughout the tune. This, Iโ€™d argue, is astute and profoundly crafted songwriting for someone twice Beccaโ€™s age; sheโ€™s eighteen and just completed an extended diploma in music performance & production at Wiltshire College.

Teenage Things is no whim project for Becca, the single was released shortly after she performed the title track two years ago, with another Poison Roses, to win a Tunnel Ratโ€™s talent competition, telling the Salisbury Journal at the time, โ€œwinning the studio time is golden for me – as a student I donโ€™t have much money and therefore booking studio time is really hard; winning the time means I can professionally record all the ideas in my head instead of trying to do it at home on my not-so-good laptop.โ€

Letโ€™s just say, that paid off! Vocally I was immediately taken to imagining if Kirsty MacColl came after Lily Allen, she might sound a little something like this. Though not the rap of Kate Nash, her causal inflection brews hints of that voluble style, itโ€™s refined singing still, and I mean this as a high compliment. Though thereโ€™s no mention of Kirsty MacColl, Becca replied, โ€œI love Lily Allen, so defo a compliment,โ€ after I put this to her. Am I showing my age now?!

This slightly more upbeat title track follows in this five track EP, and as the name suggests, the subject is teenage anxiety, and the curse of misunderstanding elders. Itโ€™s a woeful mard rather than Anthony Burgess fashioned vexation, over a steady beat. If antidepressants like Fluoxetine are insinuated itโ€™s subtle but poignant nonetheless. From here you accept, Becca has more than a few things to say, and she does so with zest and expression. While her peers will identify with this song, parents should take heed too, and consider theyโ€™ve forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. This is a double edged sword.

With a conceptual running theme evolving, Little Girl continues on the subject of confusion over coming of age; this drifts so nicely, it is the song Madonna shouldโ€™ve replaced Papa Donโ€™t Preach with! Now, if Becca has got you onboard and youโ€™re now contemplating how marvellously plotted this is, she throws Affliction of Melancholy Lies into the pot, and peps up the emotive intelligent songwriting another notch or twelve. This moves onto the next stage, relationships and their breakdowns, and is simply gorgeously ruminative. 

And though I donโ€™t want this to end, Creatures has the most beguiling singalong chorus, folding in dark indie connotations, and Iโ€™m undecided if the safety of wild animals topic is metaphorical, or not, but it is a gratifying cumulation to a sublimely played EP which you really need to delve into wholeheartedly, rather than simply listen to, and that is a rare gem these days.

Iโ€™m so much more than pleasantly surprised, Iโ€™m in awe; use any part of this as a press release if you wish, Becca, but perhaps your astute words and the beautiful way you have presented them speak volumes for themselves, and as I said at the beginning, the wow-factor is often a dish best left as a revelation!


I’ll pop Beccaโ€™s Link-Tree HERE so you can check in on them on Saturday 15th and stream the EP, and will update this review too with links to it. 


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Top Marks For CrownFest

Sitting by a controversially purple outside bar, contemplating my debatable definition of the term โ€œfestival,โ€ yesterday in Bishop’s Cannings, while Freddie Mercury sauntered past and the sun toasted me another shade closer to โ€œcalypso berryโ€ on the Dulux colour chart… this isn’t your average day in this sleepy Devizes-hugging parish, it’s the meticulously planned and aptly named โ€œCrownFest,โ€ at their only central village pub, The Crown.….

Because while grateful for the pub trend of sticking a man with a guitar under a gazebo and hoisting in a hotdog van, it hardly constituents a โ€œfestival.โ€ Even the Easter musical event at The Crown received a higher-scoring mark than that, and it wasn’t labelled a festival; just a free social gathering. This time around though, attendeeโ€™s entrance fee was exhausted with a proper stage of quality sound and pyrotechnics, and the semi-permanent marquee where performers were shoved into a corner of last time, this time was filled with a whopping selection of affordable homemade pasties and sausage rolls; that’s me set in for the day!

Okay, so here’s my vague scoring system; to me โ€œfestivalโ€ must include multiple happenings; variety, if you will. If you’ve one act, or even one and a support, it’s a concert. If you’ve one food choice, it’s a beer garden barbecue, and if you’ve one barrel of flat, warm ale, well, you’re really asking for it!

I’m pleased to announce, with a great line-up, two bars plus the pub operating as usual, two barbecues, aforementioned pasties, sweeties and doughnuts stall, a kiddies fairground ride, and Devizes’ Italian Job airstream caravan, who I strongly suspect are following me around the local festival circuit(!) for an inaugural village festival, CrownFest ticked all my boxes and went way beyond expectations.

With a Queen tribute headlining, for example, a local spray-paint artist laboured the entire day, reconstructing a colossal portrait of Freddie Mercury, to be auctioned for charity. Just one of many unique elements which drove this mini-festival to punch above its weight, and a marvellous time was had by all. In a nutshell, it was a generous slice of fantastic.

On paint, a few nick-picking peevish keyboard warriors would’ve had you believe the Crown’s intentions of bringing a community together for a party was counterproductive, highly illegal and a nuisance to the tranquillity of life in Bishop’s Cannings, should you follow pitiful Facebook rants. Desperate for an angle, it backfired bizarrely, through petty complaining that the outside bar was painted purple! But if shock, horror meanderings divided a community online, there was no sign of it in the actual.

Despite the town carnival clashing, the event was moderately attended. The damning report for said pessimists is only a handful arrived from town, rather the bulk was made up of villagers, overjoyed entertainment of this calibre had parachuted into their village. Still though, to those unconvinced I’d say, I accept your concerns and respect your desire for tranquillity, but give and take in this world, and for just one night a year, a little compromise wouldn’t surely go amiss? While a significant event for a small village, noise levels were controlled and full-proof yet friendly security kept the peace; it hardly reached the intensity of living in Pilton.

The alternative is the reality of many a village pub, and excuse me if I’m wrong on this, but I also believe the Crown was suffering from the damning predicament prior to new tenants, that they fail to be a hub for villages, resulting in a dull life for its inhabitants. Providing such a service is essential for a demographic, as if house prices aren’t bad enough to drive the young away. Village pubs should take heed of the remarkable turnaround of the Crown at Bishop’s Cannings, owners employing local youths on a grander scale, building bridges between folk and providing entertainment to an otherwise archetypal sleepy community. Jazzy and Gary, you should be very proud of your achievement, and CrownFest was surely symbolic of the respect you’ve earned since taking the tavern on.

Eddie of Tunnel Rat Studios appears to have made coordinating the musical element his baby, the icing on the Crown’s cake. Though, running ahead of schedule, my bus journey ETA fell short of catching Pete Lamb’s Heartbeats, I can console myself upon the notion we’ll meet again some sunny Full-Tone day, and not forgoing, a band I’ve been meaning to tick off my must-see list, Devizes-based Paradox, were bundling equipment on stage superfast.

Paradox are entertaining, period. Kicking off with the Kinks’ You Really Got Me, and particularly adroit with the Beatles’ Day Tripper, yeah, they’re predominately covers, but their few originals came to a hilarious apex with a soon-to-be redundant satirical stab at Boris Johnson. Still, they were fun all round, and frontman, Derrick Jepson slogged it out as an amusing compere.

With George Wilding reassigned to a cruise job, and Isobel Thatcher signed off with covid, any doubt the two unfortunate cancellations would affect the schedule were abandoned when guitarist and sax backing for Thatcher surprisingly, mostly to themselves, produced a sublime set.

Then two hard rock bands, Melksham-Devizes crossover Plan of Action and Pewsey’s Humdinger contested for the best Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell cover, but also separately blessed the afternoon with back-to-back rock cover sets, that, while not entirely my cuppa, were exceptionally accomplished and certainly got the party going. While it was the heavier end of the scale which floated my boat from Plan of Action, covering Foo-Fighters yet also fantastically replicating Ready to Go, by Republica, the most appealing from Humdinger was certainly the breezy and encapsulating cover of Stereophonics’ Dakota. Both took no prisoners; drink was taking effect and CrownFest was gathering pace.

Confessions time; I neglected to tell John of Illingworth he was up for a mighty fine review regardless, until after he dropped me off home! Though despite following two heavy rock bands, this duo acoustic set with Jolyon Dixon, for me, was the kingpin in the line-up. Illingworth are so utterly skilful in driving a cover headlong into sentimental city, it’s always a pleasure. With heart and soul channelled, two guitars and a foot drum are all that’s required from Illingworth to produce breath-taking versions of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here, and The Beatles Hey Jude, among others on this refined setlist; The Waterboys, Oasis, et al. Songs which could be considered clichรฉ if anyone other than Illingworth were stamping their authority on them.

Time was nigh for the finale, Real Magic from Leicester pulled out the tribute act costume shop to replicate a marvellous homage to Queen, of which goes beyond comparison, likely because I’ve not witnessed another Queen tribute before. If doubts of how well they’d accomplish such a feat were mildly enthused with quantities of alcohol, but nevertheless were absolute perfection. Through every legendary hit they covered them with precision and finesse, it was a sight to behold, truly confirming the kind of magic CrownFest had monumentally achieved through just their first attempt. What a wonderful way to end the day, as villagers lit up the area with a true bond to be proud of. Spot on, I say.

I believe some folk need to get over the antiquated notion festivals are only for a raging mob of crusties, as trends have changed dramatically from the anarchist balls of the eighties or illegal raves of the nineties. Music festivals are today a stalwart of family entertainment, churches of popular culture and performing arts. They’re controlled, they’re mainstream, and the industries’ essentiality for them will not be put off by a whinging minority. It was great to meet Peggy-Sue of Swindon 105.5 radio, who for the past year has been producing a show wholly dedicated to local acts, and Mark Jones of Fantasy Radio, as we got along handsomely, chasing the shade in squatting his gazebo. So, if us media giants can get along, I’m sure a village community can too!

We look forward to the possibility of this being an annual fixture, word passed around CrownFest in the heat of the moment was positive it would be, meanwhile theyโ€™ll sporadically host smaller music events, and if true it’d be wise to bookmark CrownFest 2023 on your calendar.


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