The
Wonder Stuff have, of late, been surreptitiously sneaking up my list of “must
see whenever nearby” bands, thanks to a celebratory 30th Anniversary
showing a couple of years back at this very venue (gig 981) and a couple of
perfectly judged and utterly storming performances at November’s “Shiiine On”
festivals the last couple of years (indeed, snatching “Band Of The Weekend”
honours for me in 2016, from under the noses of a resurgent Shed Seven). This,
then, was a no-brainer, to catch them on their “With Love From Stourbridge”
tour, co-headlining with contemporaries and former supports Neds Atomic Dustbin.
I wasn’t fussed about The Neds, but this “Ned’s Wonder” double-header was
sufficient to tempt both The Big Man and Matt C along, so, with the notable
exception of my lady wife (baking her babysitting tokens for a couple of things
on the immediate horizon), our “Shiiine On” crew was reunited for this one too!
Pre-gig
communications with the splendid Mr. Russ Hunt, facebook friend and Stuffies
guitar tech extraordinaire, provided
a heads-up that Bristol was The Stuffies’ turn to open, so, forewarned, Rich picked
me up a little earlier and we hurtled down the M4, hitting Cabot Circus traffic
but parking on Trenchard Level 10 and hitting the venue just after half seven.
Got our usual stage left spot, a little closer to the stage than usual, the
dancefloor being surprisingly sparse this close to showtime. This early start’s
going to catch some folk out… Matt joined us and time ticked past the Stuffies’
planned 8 pm start, the lights finally crashing to black after the onstage Russ
gave the ubiquitous torch flash signal about 10 past. A grinning Miles led the
troops onstage to a cartoon backing track, blood red light eerily yet
appropriately bathing the stage for groovy yet moody opener “Red Berry Joy
Town”. The slashing verse riffery of my favourite Stuffies number, On The Ropes”,
was next up, at which point I jumped into an eager yet well-natured moshpit –
mainly older blokes like me!
The
sound was brilliantly balanced and pindrop perfect tonight, and as per recent
form, the Stuffies nailed it tonight, doing it complete justice. The boys (and
girl) were again on fire, this line-up continuing to confirm my belief that
they’re the best “live” iteration of this venerable yet increasingly beloved
band. Newie “Don’t You Ever”, next up, underlined this, The Stuffies’ usual
catchy, flippant and fiddle-augmented (again by the striking virtuoso Erica
Nockalls) insistent guitar pop being underpinned with a darkly dramatic opening
and verse, and backbeat hook, before an ebullient Miles greeted the folks on
the balcony, remarking, “I used to have some witty lines for people on
balconies – most likely nicked off John Lennon!” Perhaps due to their late
start, The Stuffies were also in no mood to hang around, pelting through their
set with impressive pace, firing off earworm hook after earworm hook into this
knowledgeable and enthusiastic crowd, to sing back with equal gusto. “I fucking
love that song!” announced Miles after the tumbling drumbeat-led “Can’t Shape
Up”; a plug for the “Neds Wonder” commemorative beer (brewed especially for the
tour) preceded the fiddle-dominated interlude of “Mission Drive” and
“Circlesquare”; and there was a nice touch before the ubiquitous yet warmly
received and infectiously jolly “Size Of A Cow” with Miles commenting that his
Uncle Bill (a former member of 70’s rock legends Wizzard and The Move) was to
accompany the band on keyboards during said number – from behind the curtain
(“in true Wizard Of Oz style…!”).
An
acoustic duet of “Room 512” was touchingly delivered and provided some respite
from the increasing crush in my front-centre spot (“there aren’t enough
defibrillators to go around if we keep this pace up,” quipped Miles), before
they were back on it with a brilliantly building “Here Comes Everyone”. “Radio
Ass Kiss” and “Disco King” was a brilliant late-set double, at which point the
big bloke next to me inadvertently knocked my glasses off, prompting me to call
on my goalie reflexes to catch them on my chest (!) before extricating a hand
to grab them. One surge later, and I was on the barriers for set closer “Give
Give Give Me More More More”, staying there throughout a thrillingly ragged and
discordant encore “Ten Trenches Deep” (tonight’s exception, sounding all over
the place, yet rock’n’roll as all get out – a great way to finish!). I had
cause again to thank my goalie reflexes as Miles scrunched his list up and
hurled it in my general direction, and I managed a swift left hand grab as the
band left the stage to a deserved ovation.
Follow
that, Neds! Well, for me, they had no chance, so after catching my breath and
chatting with Rich and Matt during a frantic changeover, I left the venue at 10
as the Neds’ entrance music started up. Off on a Russ hunt, as it were…! I ran
into him in the staging area to the left of the venue, promising to meet up
shortly in The Hatchet pub opposite once he’d finished packing up. However, for
some inexplicable reason, said pub finished serving stupidly early, so after
waiting there awhile, I returned to the staging area where Russ had returned to
after being denied admission to The Hatchet (!), for a quick chat with the man
and his lovely wife Deb. Nice to see him again!
Bade
farewell at the end of the distant rumble that was all I heard (or wanted to
hear, really!) of The Neds’ set, to meet up with the boys outside. Matt hit the
road, but Rich wanted to try for a few words with Graham Crabb of Pop Will Eat
Itself, tonight’s between-band DJ. Deb was still outside and arranged that for
us, so Rich enjoyed a chat with one of his musical heroes, who, despite my not
liking his band much either, I found to be an open, gregarious and thoroughly
nice bloke. An equally swift hurtle home still saw us back at a late 12.30
after a thoroughly splendid evening. Excellent stuff from The Wonder Stuff –
once again!
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