Back in June ( what do you mean, it's 2/3 of the way through July already? ), Sarah and I spent two days on a racecourse. And we didn't put any bets on. Yep, following last year's fantastic weekend at the Wychwood Festival in Cheltenham, we were back for more. To be honest, much of the lineup this year didn't really grab me, but we'd had such a good time in 2023 that we knew it would be worth going again. We had the added incentive that our good friend Caz was playing on the Saturday with her band, Dub Catalyst, and had managed to get us one free ticket. So, we rocked up to the "production" tent at the racecourse and Sarah was given the keys to the kingdom... or at least a wristband that admitted her into the arena.
The first band we caught was The Zangwills, who'd progressed from the Garden Stage last year to the main stage this year. We only watched two or three of their songs before heading off to see Dub Catalyst, but their muscular indie-pop was a fine start to the weekend.
We got down the front in the Garden Stage tent and plonked ourselves in front of Dub Catalyst's amazing horn section, featuring ( of course! ) Cazbo on trombone. DC's summery, positive-vibe-imbued reggae / hip hop perfectly suited the gorgeous June weather, and they soon filled the tent out with happy, dancing punters. As always, they were incredibly tight and professional, with every member of the 11-piece band giving their all (even the tambourine player who was living his best life), and the crowd absolutely loved them. Surely the main stage beckons next year?
I caught half of a set from Amy Moore, a Country singer who had a very strong, soulful voice and some equally strong tunes ( and a kick ass band, it has to be said ), and then we went for a wander around the site. ( I mentioned "gorgeous weather" earlier and it was really good, but the photo below looks deceptively grey. )
+One of the great things about festivals is that everyone feels they're all in it together, all having a good time, all ( you could say ) connected...
And that clumsy segue leads me on to the next band on the main stage, the dancetastic Stereo MCs.
Leaning heavily on the material from their Connected album, the band brought us the rave like it was 1989 all over again. In a similar vein to last year's headliners, Happy Mondays, the MCs' blend of indie, hip hop and acid house was a perfect way to re-energise a festival crowd on a Saturday afternoon. Although lacking in the banter of a certain Mr. Ryder, the band's frontman Rob Birch had an energetic stage presence, coming across as a boiler-suited Albert Steptoe enjoying his first trip in the Hacienda. They played both of "the hits" - Connected and Step It Up - which naturally got the best reaction from the crowd, but it was all 'shroom-flavoured fun.
After this, we caught up with Caz to have hot dogs and chips on the top deck of a bus ( as you do ), while listening to some familiar tunes drifting across the field. Jangly, early-sixties Merseybeat pricked my ears up and dragged me out of the bus and I found myself breaking my "no tribute bands" rule...
Well, it's more of a guideline than a rule. The purveyors of this aural time warp were, of course, The Bootleg Beatles, the premier Fab Four tribute band. Looking spookily like the Liverpudlian icons ( I think some prosthetics may be involved ), the band were also note-perfect in recreating their sound and onstage banter. I mean, this is the closest you're going to get to a Beatles gig, so why not wallow in the nostalgia. They progressed from the raw, early songs like She Loves You and Can't Buy Me Love, via a solo "Macca" version of Yesterday, and on to the post-psychedelic era with the likes of Get Back and Revolution. It was a fun singalong and actually quite moving to hear those songs being played with such authenticity. One crowd member near me, on hearing Hey Jude ( my all-time fave Fabs song ), said "Nobody's written a song this good since the '60s", which may be an overstatement... but I can see where they're coming from.
These Scouse folk/indie types wore their Fabs influence on their sleeves, with plenty of jangly melodies to chill us all out. In theory. To be honest, I found their stuff pleasant but dull and the band had zero charisma, looking like they were going through the motions and thinking about the paycheque. Of course, the good thing about festivals is that you can always go for a wander ( again ) and Wychwood is perfect for this, with something else happening around every corner: craft-making tents, dance classes, story-telling for kiddies, even over-priced massage therapy sessions. By the time we'd taken all this in ( and probably queued for the toilets, another festival joy ), the sun was slowly sinking over the Shire and we headed back to the main stage for the headliners.
Texas are a band that I was never too bothered about back in the day, but I thought they were sure to put on a decent show. ( Can't you tell that this is yet another example of me totally underestimating a band? ) And, yeah, they really did. Straight out of the blocks with their debut single I Don't Want A Lover, Texas hit the ground running, with frontwoman Sharleen Spiteri bouncing around the stage, fizzing with energy. After a brief pause to say how amazed they were at still being in the business 35 (!) years after this song had kickstarted their career, the band launched into the anthemic, pulsing Halo, the line about "bright light city" absolutely bang on as the crowd was illuminated by the main stage lights.
Texas are one of those groups who you listen to and think "That's actually a bloody great song. Yeah, and that one. And that one." Bangers like Summer Son and In Demand give us tune after tune, and hook after hook. I probably looked on them as being a bit middle of the road previously, but as a live act, they were totally convincing, and far "rockier" than on record.
Sharleen still has an amazingly soulful and powerful voice and an absolutely magnetic stage presence.
She told us a few spicey stories, one in particular about a radio interview she'd given recently where she'd dropped a couple of F-bombs. The next day, her sister called her up to say there was some fuss online because somebody had taken offence at her "potty mouth" - Sharleen's response was "Have they ever fuckin' been to Glasgow? That's basically how we communicate."
Texas finished the set with Black Eyed Boy and Say What You Want, both total pop classics with a Country Soul twist - and the way Sharleen sang "tiiime" on the former sent shivers down my spine. They encored with the dancey Inner Smile, a song I'd completely forgotten about, but which was a euphoric, uplifting way to end the night. We headed for home, tired but happy, planning to get back there early the next morning for a meeting with a certain canine...
To be continued, cockers...
