David Byrne at Manchester Apollo, 10/03/26

I think I'm as guilty as the next sentient being ( or, indeed, blogger ) of overusing such words as "legend" and "iconic" when describing actors, writers, musicians, football players ( well, maybe not football players ) and suchlike... but in this case I think I'm justified. Ladies, gentlemen, people of all persuasions, let me present to you the legendary, the iconic David Byrne. ( Applause. )

Ahem. Okay, that was a bit over the top but - bloody hell - David Byrne! I never thought I'd get to see him play live, and certainly knew that the famously grouchy Talking Heads would never reform, so when the opportunity arose to get tickets for Byrne's Who Is The Sky tour, I had to jump at it. The gig also gave Sarah and me an excuse to spend a few days in Manchester, so we were "mad fer it", to coin a phrase. We had a mostly trouble-free drive up to The North ( apart from some bloke in a black Audi trying to kill everyone on the M6 with his insane driving ) and then had a lovely day in Manchester, seeing the sights, watching trams from coffee shop windows, and parakeets in Whitworth Park - yes, they have a flock of bright green parakeets flitting around the trees there, alongside the more traditional squirrels and a surprising number of rats. After a day of hoofing it around the city, we cheated slightly by getting a taxi from our hotel to the Apollo - we're not getting any younger you know!

After seating ourselves in the plush environs of the Apollo ( yes, it was a seated event - not usually my first choice, but... David Byrne... ) we had time for a drink and then the show started. Well, even before the show started a familiar, dryly humorous voice came over the tannoy to inform us of the evening's safety procedures - yes, it was Mr. Byrne. He advised that the management were okay with us dancing by our seats, but asked us not to dance in the aisles because, in the event of a fire, those people would have an unfair advantage. Sensible, really. A few minutes later the show proper began as Byrne, accompanied only by a keyboard player, a cellist and a violinist stepped out onto the stage to play a beautifully haunting version of old Talking Heads song Heaven. The musicians/dancers/singers ( they really multi-tasked! ) all wore bright orange boiler suits and carried their instruments with them at all times, often strapped to their chests, with no amps or leads in their way as they constantly sashayed around the stage. It was almost like a musical theatre show ( be afraid, be very afraid ) but, er, was better than that. Behind ( and underneath! ) the band were giant screens, which showed backdrops ranging from the surface of the Moon to Byrne's apartment. In fact, Heaven saw DB and friends standing on the lunar surface as the Earth rose behind them throughout the song. "There's our Heaven - there she is" said the main man, pointing at the Blue Marble, "...the only one we've got."

In a similar vein to the legendary Stop Making Sense movie, the band then began to assemble around Byrne and they groooooved their way into Everybody Laughs, one of the standout songs from the Who Is The Sky album. The mood instantly switched to *Partay!* mode as everyone indeed laughed, as well as sung, clapped, cheered and danced - we were all out of our seats with no intention of sitting back down. The upbeat, infectious music lifted everybody up, as scenes from urban ( NYC? ) life played out on the screen behind the band. And the hits kept coming as the 12-piece band then floated into Heads classic And She Was - another literally uplifting tale of a woman who found herself soaring above her neighbourhood, "drifting this way and that." Byrne, in one of his occasional introductions, explained this song was inspired by a strange girl he once met who he didn't realise at the time was on LSD...

And here's our view of her view...

To be honest, I wish we could have been just a little closer, so we could have seen more of the dancing and the musicians performing ( and I could have taken better photos ), but those seats were the best I could get. It still looked fantastic, though.

The Remain In Light-era funk of Houses In Motion was scorching hot and the band played their hearts out. They were an incredibly tight, soulful ensemble and all seemed to be loving what they were doing. Byrne himself was constantly moving, constantly interacting with the band and generally being awesome. And his voice sounded fantastic, with all the old familiar inflections and tones - same as it ever was, in fact. ( See what I did there? ) It's hard to believe the guy is 73 - if I have a tenth of his energy in ( gulp! ) just over 13 years, I'll be very happy.

DB dipped into less familiar eras of his solo career ( for me, at least ) with songs such as T-Shirt and Strange Overtones, but it was interesting to hear this material, and it all felt of a piece with the other songs. The cheeky Latin groove of Independence Day brought a smile to our collective face, while Like Humans Do became an instant singalong fave for people like me who'd never heard it before. Apparently, there's some connection with the launch of Windows XP involving this song but I really don't remember that. Back to Talking Heads songs and there were hugely excited reactions for ( Nothing But ) Flowers and This Must Be The Place ( Naive Melody ) - apparently Byrne likes his ( parentheses ) as much as ( I ) do. The African guitar sounds and post-apocalyptic parable of the former were a blast of sunshine, comparing the consumer society shown below to a world without humans: "This was a discount store, now it's turned into a cornfield." Sometimes that sounds like a good idea. This Must Be The Place had us all singing "Woo-hoo" like we were a bunch of owls ( you had to be there ) and convinced us that this was indeed the place.

A couple of songs, and their introductions by JB - When We Are Singing and My Apartment Is My Friend - showed how much the Covid-19 pandemic affected his song-writing and outlook on the world. He told us that, just as the restrictions were lifting, he went for a walk around New York and wondered what that strange sound was that he could hear all around him. And then he realised - it was the sound of people talking, people laughing, people interacting. He said that it brought home to him just how much we as a species need human interaction and companionship. In fact, the whole performance seemed to be informed by this need to make a connection - and isn't that what all art is about? Ironically, this was all lost on the woman behind us, who had been screaming and whooping throughout the more well-known songs, and was now calling out "Who cares? Get on with the music!" Some people...

And this is apparently a view inside Byrne's actual apartment. Very nice.

In the home stretch, DB brought out some of the big Heads hitters. Starting with the paranoid, jittery New Wave of Psycho Killer and then going into the even more paranoid and jittery, not to mention prophetic, Life During Wartime. As Byrne sang his strange 1980s premonition of America becoming a fractured, violence-ridden Third World country, the screen flashed up images of people on the streets of the USA confronting the goons of Trump's fascistic ICE organisation. Embedded in the red hot funk of this classic song was a chilling reminder of what's actually happening to 'Merica at the moment, as their much-vaunted liberties are being eroded by the Orange Idiot and his supporters. This was a very powerful moment and got a huge cheer from the crowd.

Of course, there was only one song that could follow this as the band finished the set with the evergreen Once In A Lifetime. Probably the ultimate Talking Heads song - even in this stripped-back version it still sounded like nothing else on Earth. Absolutely stunning and, as I said earlier, a song I never thought I'd see performed live. How to top that? Well, after a quick break, the band came back out to rapturous applause and performed another solo Byrne song, Everybody's Coming To My House, which again returned to that theme of community and gave DB the opportunity to introduce his smokin' hot band. And, speaking of smokin', they then finished with ultimate party anthem Burning Down The House. And they really did. Byrne kicked off with that urgent semaphore guitar riff and the band launched into the irrepressible groove as red light flooded the theatre. A dance monster that grabbed us by the throat and made us dance like crazed monkeys just when we thought we couldn't dance any more. It was fantastic and what a way to end a performance!

 "Watch out! You might get what you're after." We did, in spades.

After all this, we staggered out of the Apollo, tired but happy, secure in the knowledge that we'd seen one of the greatest shows ever. ( Well, that's certainly how I felt - I might be slightly exaggerating Sarah's take on the gig lol. ) Even the slight Manchester drizzle couldn't dampen our spirits as we headed back to our hotel, only stopping for some cheesy chips in a late night takeaway and a quick chat with another Byrne fan, who told us tall tales of watching Joy Division back before they were famous. It was that kind of a night. True stories, legends, myths, confessions, music, music, music.

The ship's graveyard at Purton, Gloucestershire

Just a few photos from a walk I took last weekend. These are the Purton Hulks ( no, not *that* one ), a group of obsolete ships that were intentionally beached along the banks of the River Severn in Purton, Gloucestershire, in the early / middle 20th century. The idea was that these derelict vessels would shore up the banks to protect them from tidal erosion. It's always a lovely walk and fascinating to reflect on the history of the area and the long-gone days of commercial shipping travelling up the Severn and along the Gloucester & Sharpness canal.

 

Mogwai at Bristol Beacon 22/02/26

As I've said before on this 'ere blog, sometimes the random, unexpected events are the best. This is often the case with gigs, and was definitely the case on a Sunday night three ago when I encountered the semi-legendary "post-rock" band Mogwai in the Bristol Beacon. I was only vaguely aware of Mogwai before, mostly their reputation for extreme volume, but thought it would be an interesting gig. Sarah didn't fancy going out on a school night, so I made the journey down to Brizzle on my own - an easy drive down the M5, into the city and the Trenchard Street car park, literally a few steps from the venue.

I got there as support act Forest Swords was about half way through his set. A one-man band with various decks, samplers and synths at his disposal, Matthew Barnes ( for 'tis his real name ) was creating some atmospheric soundscapes, while projected geometric shapes danced around him. All very cool in a chin-stroking, nodding-nonchalantly-along kind of way, but somewhat lacking in passion. The last couple of "songs" added some tasty beats and edged the filmic sound more towards an Underworld/Orb style which was more my thing. He went down very well with the audience and it set things up nicely for the more guitar-based sound of Mogwai...

Actually I should have said THE more GUITAR-based !SOUND! of MOGWAI! because their MO is the whole loud / quiet / light / dark thing... and they're very, very good at it. The band ambled onto the stage to little fanfare, main man and lead guitarist Stuart Braithwaite said something to the effect of "Hello, we're Mogwai from Glasgow and we're glad to be here", and then they plugged in and played. After the barn-storming stage moves and energy of Suede's Brett Anderson ( the last gig I'd been to at this venue ) Mogwai were one of the most static groups I've seen play live - they basically just stand there and do their thing. It does give you a chance to focus solely on the music and that's probably the intention.

They started with a couple of songs from their new album, The Bad Fire, although they were pretty much all new to me. First number ( I find it hard to call them "songs" as there's very little in the way of lyrics ) God Gets You Back, saw the two "other" guitarists sit head-to-head at two keyboards and play some Kraftwerk-reminiscent melodies, while Hi Chaos introduced the guitars. A fairly low-key introduction, but building throughout, pointing the way to more guitar-based wizardry to come.

( Incidentally, I was glad to see the Palestinian flags draped over the amps, demonstrating the band's support for that beleaguered nation. )

At times, as the songs swelled and the guitarists conjured up squalls of sound, as in Drive The Nail, it was easily to literally get lost in the music. At one point I even shut my eyes for a while and just became enveloped by the beautifully melodic-but-discordant sound - just like a right old hippy. ( I did see a bloke in a Hawkwind T-shirt which made total sense. ) Two or three songs featured actual lyrics, verses etc. ( mostly with the vocals distorted so they were virtually just another instrument ) and it showed how Mogwai could have been a traditional indie band if they'd wanted to, but clearly they didn't. My unfamiliarity with the band and their music makes it difficult for me to single out specific numbers, but one in particular saw Braithwaite swap his guitar for bass, while the bass player did the same, sit down on a stool and deliver some absolutely stunning music along with the other hugely talented band members. I really need to listen to more of their stuff so I can actually remember song titles ( lol ) and maybe write a better review if I see them again. And I hope I do. They're really something special.

After all the online talk about extreme volume and warnings to wear ear plugs ( I saw a few people doing that ), I must admit I didn't find the gig unbearably loud. Oh yeah, it was loud alright, but I often complain that gigs aren't loud enough these days, so it suited me fine. I'd positioned myself fairly close to the front and just slightly right of centre ( unlike my politics, right kids? ) so I wouldn't be directly in line with the PA - I think that helped. Mogwai finished with probably the only number of theirs that I'd heard of - Mogwai Fear Satan - which was a huge crowd-pleaser. I knew this was the epitome of the loud-quiet-LOUD style and I was expecting it to kick off - which it literally did as, after a tension-building quiet-ish section, the three guitarists all stamped on their effects pedals and the sound hit the stratosphere. Red lights and strobes flashed as the noise hit the crowd like a fighter jet taking off - a rushing, monolithic wall of sound you could feel punching you in the chest. It was fantastic.

With a brief "Thank you so much" from the taciturn Braithwaite, the band exited the stage to the sound of waves of feedback as their guitars were left on the floor to reverberate. And our ears were reverberating too. It had been a hugely impressive performance from a super-talented band, a real eye-opener for me. What a gig! What a sound! What a band!

Suede at Bristol Beacon 02/02/26

Okay - first gig of the year, and what a cracker! After being so impressed by the stupendous Suede when we saw their double-headline show with the Manics back in 2024, I knew I had to see them again. When their new album, Antidepressants, dropped ( as I believe the young people say ) I snapped it up, along with first dibs for 2026 tour tickets. Luckily, I managed to get tix for Bristol's stately Beacon, where we'd seen Echo & The Bunnymen a couple of years ago, and a mere 30 miles down the road from our mundane corner of the Shire. Perfect. After a loooong five-month wait, the time was finally here to enter Suede World...

Sarah and I had both recently been suffering with the colds that seem to have afflicted everyone we know ( Sarah more than me ), but we still dragged ourselves down a windswept M5 on a Monday night ( oh, the glamour! ) and rocked up to the venue just in time to see support band Bloodworm. Although possessing a singularly uninviting band moniker, the 'worm ( as I'm sure nobody calls them ) turned out to be a very talented, very tight, and frighteningly young band, with a neat line in Cure / Banshees post-punkery. Led by a young Pete Shelley-lookalike ( I mean, he really looked like him ) they cut quite gloomy figures, as befits the vibe, but had some very atmospheric and ethereal material, if slightly lacking in memorable hooks. They went down extremely well with the partisan crowd, which must have been satisfying for such a young band. Definitely ones to watch.
 

And then, at almost dead-on the expected time of 20:45, Brett Anderson and the Suede boys came out onto the stage to mass roars from the crowd. Well, in Brett's case he bounded onto the stage and pretty much bounded, leaped, twirled and gyrated for the next hour and a half. The man's a machine.

In a hugely confident move they started with three songs from the new album, starting with the kick-assery of  Disintegrate ( my ear-worm of choice in the couple of weeks since the gig ), the monolithic Dancing With The Europeans and the vicious title track Antidepressants. We'd heard the last song previewed at the Cardiff Castle gig and it was great to now hear it in context with the other, super-tough new songs. An incredibly ballsy, take-no-prisoners opening to a gig, and they only went and followed that with two of their most crowd-pleasing anthems - Trash and Animal Nitrate - and the venue erupted.

They took a deep dive next with the hardcore-fan-pleasing balladry of Killing Of A Flashboy, which slowed the set down somewhat, but I'm sure Brett needed a brief breather after five songs' worth of non-stop glam rock posing... only very brief, actually, as he was soon back to shouting "Come on!" at the audience and gesturing for everybody to go crazy as the band kicked into the heavy riffage and post-punk furore of Personality Disorder - "Fill me with your personality disorder!" Okay, then...

Incredibly, with all this effort being expended by the frontman, Brett's voice still sounded excellent - probably stronger and louder than its ever been, but still hitting those swooping falsetto highs when required. After a mesmerising June Rain ( one of the highlights of the new album ) the band pulled out a new song: the outstanding outsider anthem Tribe. Brett dedicated this to all of us - "the insatiable ones, the quiet ones, the beautiful ones - you are my tribe" - and its punky chorus of  "No-one ever gave a fuck about me, and then you came along" became an instantaneous singalong, with the crowd pogoing like they were down the Roxy in 1977.

One of the real standout songs of the set was She Still Leads Me On, Brett's tribute to his mother, one of the most nakedly emotional and soul-baring songs that Suede have put out. In a career noted for many self-consciously artificial and intentionally surface-level lyrics, this is a real sign of maturity - as Brett has said in interviews, he can't write teenage lust songs at the age of 58. The set took another turn for the emotional as most of the band left the stage, with only Brett and Neil Codling remaining to play an acoustic Life Is Golden, dedicated to Brett's son who was in the audience: "He looks a lot like me but he's a more handsome version." You could literally hear a pin drop as the duo played this beautiful song, Brett at one point dropping the mike to his side and singing completely a capella to a hushed, hypnotised audience. A very special moment indeed.

Then they concluded with some absolute bangers - So Young, Metal Mickey and Beautiful Ones - and the crowd went absolutely nuts. It all got a bit too rowdy and sweaty ( in February! ) for Sarah, so we made our way to the side of the hall where it was a bit more sedate. ( Of course, I would have preferred to have been in the thick of it, but I could see she was getting overwhelmed. )

Suede came back out to encore with The Only Way I Can Love You, a recent favourite from the Autofiction album  -  Brett calls Suede "the anti-nostalgia band" so, of course, they pointedly finished with a modern song and what a barn-storming end to a fantastic set it was. Suede are definitely charging off wildly into middle age, undaunted by time or their history, making excellent music and playing at the very top of their game. They really are the beautiful ones.