LTW Newsletter 43

It’s been a curious week in dear old Blighty as we find ourselves with a new king to rule over us scrabbling minions in the queendom. Of course we don’t want to lose our heads over this in any shape or from especially by having them removed for treason so we have hunkered down in the LTW bunker and concentrated on the music and managed to escape the never ending TV.

It seems the same for most other people as well. Manchester over the weekend has never been so packed and we managed to cram in two gigs on Saturday night that were both packed to the gills with the youth who are maybe looking at a different future from the one the BBC is keen on

The first half of the evening was spent at The Sherlocks - the youthful Sheffield band are on their third album of what the London media sneeringly term ‘lad rock’ and whilst there are many of these sprightly combos up and down the land the top tier do have a way with guitar and word that document their lives under the grey northern skies. The Sherlocks are like smart casual Pepys and their sonic diary is packed with anthemic choruses and they justify their top 10 album band status with shows like these which are packed with wild youth living the dream in those few years you get before the real world come down like a slammer..

Hot footing across the packed partying streets of a day night time Manchester, we got into the 12 000 sold out Repercussion Festival that was built around all things dance and it 1000 attendant genres. Another raft of the wild youth were bouncing in the huge venue which is in a former railway warehouse by Piccadilly Station. Its aching cavernous space is awe inspiring and on here and in the distance is the charismatic Little Simz who was holding her audience with a regal hip hop pomp. Simz is captivating and it was a great set and a reaffirmation of British pop culture.

Quite a different proposition, Cock Sparrer, were holding their own court at the sold out Roundhouse in London. It was the 50th anniversary of a band who have become one of the key tankard standard bearers of old school punk. With their terrace anthems and bovver boy styling they were precursor to Oi but their roots lie deeper in the Faces and they were around in the 1977 melee. Cock Sparrer were also famously the band that Malcom McLaren wanted to manage before he found the Sex Pistols. These days they are huge across the world as punk legends and their wam bam thank you anthem set is full of singalong blockbusters.

Whilst in the throes of writing a book with Alan Mcgee that is out next year I’ve been hearing all kind of mad tales about House Of Love and it’s not only amazing that they survived to tell the tale but have somehow survived to live another day and release a new album in 2022. Not only that, it’s a crafted piece of work that swerves their mad years and makes for late period indie classic.

The Taylor Hawkins gig last week was a high decibel heartbreak to mark the life of the great Foo Fighters drummer. Not only did he get through what must be one of those most stressful auditions in rock n roll - auditioning on drums for the Dave Grohl cannot be an easy task! But he became an integral part of the band and much loved in the rock community. The high point of the benefit show though was his son Shay Hawkins pounding the kit like his father which left hardly a dry eye in the house.

Much loved indie icon Jarvis Cocker has a new book out and it’s a perfect collection of words about the bric and brac and ephemera of pop. Good Pop, Bad Pop is Jarvis Cocker’s visual and textual coming-of-age collage. I’d say the book’s a rumination on material culture from a smart musician, but that’s too easy. It’s tricky, it’s playful, it’s puzzling, it’s witty, and . . . well, in the spirit of the book, why don’t you decide the rest?  

Somehow during the non stop pop culture rush of last week we managed to make one of Suede’s secret shows. Hovering at the back of the Deaf Institute in Manchester to witness an extraordinary swaggering affair that bodes really well for their upcoming new album. When you see a band like this up close you are reminded that they have that special something and it’s not all the bombast of the big venues that amplifies talent - you have to have that special X factor in the first place. Suede were magnificent and Brett was in fantastic voice and his new animal physicality even managed to dominate the tiny stage.

Manc revivals it’s Afflecks Palace have somehow managed to make an effective pop art from their love of the 89 Roses Madchester scene. They wear their influences on their sleeve but have transcended them to make their own blissful perfect guitar pop that somehow sounds like its of the now.

The last of the summer wine and the last of the summer festivals saw us mop up a few stragglers like Arctangent festival.

We are really sad to hear of the death of Christine Wanless who was one of the key faces of the early Creation Records scene. She sang with Biff Bang Pow and she sang with Revolving Paint Dream and then went on to work in the Creation offices. Death of someone you know and have met and hung out with is always a genuine sad thing and Christine was a wonderful soul.