1,433 THE VACCINES, Brigitte Calls Me Baby, Bristol Prospect Building, Wednesday 11th March 2026

 

What do I expect from The Vaccines? Well, I usually expect some bouncy and singalong if a little derivative stadium indie-pop from this lot of Sarf London pop magpies, and I also usually expect my missus (who was on board with them from the off, mainly due to their occasional 50’s Buddy Holly inflections) to want to see them whenever they tour. Personally, I like them fine, but they’re definitely a “Rachel” band for us, so sometimes I go with her (my most recent time being Ally Pally in 2018, gig 1,081), and sometimes I don’t (pretty sure she’s seen them at least twice without me since then). However two things swayed me to join Rach this time around; firstly, the premise of this Spring 2026 tour being a 15^th Anniversary run-through of their spunky debut album, “What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?”, still my favourite of their releases; and secondly, the inclusion of a very promising young American band on their undercard… 

So we set off for Bristol after sorting the kids out with a takeaway, hitting the venue about 7.15 after parking up in a shonky-looking nearby industrial estate. A new venue for me, this recently opened Prospect Building, just around the corner from the now-closed and frankly unmourned Marble Factory, and like said dump is a repurposed large warehouse, with a forecourt featuring eateries and tented benches next to an outdoor bar, attempting to give it a Festy vibe. Cold inside too, although not as Arctic as the MF! We bumped into Andy and Jas by the merch stand and were joined by Matt, chatting before heading into the cavernous hall, grabbing a spot halfway back (the Vaccines massive already sardine-packed down the front) and trying to avoid the pillars! Support, Chicagoans Brigitte Calls Me Baby, joined us at 8; I’d enjoyed their 2024 debut album, “The Future Is Our Way Out” whilst acknowledging an obvious debt to The Smiths in their 80’s jangle pop sound and vocalist Wes Leavin’s yearning, crooner style vocals. Tonight however they focussed on material from their sophomore (yes Wes, I know what it means!) release “Irreversible”, due out this Friday, with newies “I Can Take The Sun Out Of The Sky”, “The Pit” and “Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction” all impressing with pacey, upbeat and undulating guitar-driven verses and big roof-raising choral hooks, despite a distinct and oft-annoying echo on the vocals and drums. A couple of more melancholy numbers highlighted the sharp-suited and razor-shouldered Leavin’s impressive vocal range (coming across all Elvis-like in oldie “I Wanna Die In The Suburbs”) before set highlight, the tremendous “Slumber Party” which opened all Interpol-esque with a doomy one-note opening, before ceding to a thrilling indie gallop. Their debt to Mozzer and Marr’s lot looms large, yes, but there were inflections of other intelligent 80’s songsmiths such as Prefab Sprout (a point acknowledged and appreciated by Leavins during our post-gig chat) and The Big Dish in their big chorused oeuvre. Overall, impressive stuff from a band on the way up – and quickly! 

We squeezed a little further forward before The Vaccines joined us dead on 9 to the strains of The Ramones “Do You Remember Rock’n’Roll Radio” (a bold choice, Matt and I both thought…), taking to a stage which was set up like a 50’s high school dancehall, with red velvet curtain backdrop, drum and keyboard riser and a big “Vaccines” lightbulb sign. Into openers “Blow Up” and the breathless, punkish “Wrecking Ball” to a rapturous reception, vocalist Justin Young already prowling the stage authoritatively, all sunglasses and expansive gestures. “We’re The Vaccines; this is an “F” chord, and this is “Post Break Up Sex”,” introduced the man for an early knockabout singalong highlight, and a rollicking “Norgaard” was also an early highlight for me, although it was later topped by the predictable “If You Wanna”, a certified rambunctious indie dancefloor-packing banger, and more surprisingly “Family Friend”, a Velvet Underground-like slow build accentuated by Young’s passable Lou Reed drawl, culminating in a speeded-up outro gallop.

That pretty much concluded the “What Do You Expect?” run-through, the band dispensing with all 12 numbers in barely half an hour with a comment of, “that album changed our lives and hopefully soundtracked some of yours”; however the concrete flooring was taking its’ toll on my knees, so I repaired to the large merch/bar back room, grabbing a seat but still hearing the likes of the chugalong “Heartbreak Kid” and impressive late double of the soaring “I Can’t Quit” and the pounding drumbeat of “Teenage Icon” perfectly well. The BCMB boys set up a table next to the merch, so I grabbed a quick chat and pic before the Vaccines set ended, meeting a buoyant Rach (who loved it and invested heavily in a Vaccines hoody to underline it!) before a short-cut out and swift drive home. So, what did I expect? What I got really; some fun knockabout indie pop energetically delivered by The Vaccines in a somewhat unimpressive venue, a promising support already fulfilling considerable potential, but most importantly a happy wife. And that’ll do nicely!

1,081 THE VACCINES, Dream Wife, Whenyoung, London Alexandra Palace, Saturday 14th April 2018

The Vaccines again, barely a month after the last showing! However, quite the contrast between tonight and the last time out for this band of rogueish indie rock pilferers; this one is the big showpiece of their current “Combat Sports” album tour cycle, a homecoming gig at the prestigious Alexandra Palace, a palatial (no shit, Sherlock!) hilltop arena-sized venue in North London. Uber-fan Rach had booked this months in advance, the date not only happily falling on a weekend (believe me, getting here on weekdays is North Circular purgatory!), but on her birthday weekend, no less. Happy birthday Rachel!

Worryingly, Spurs had an early evening game at Wembley which threatened to delay our arrival; however, after dropping the kids off at Grandma’s for a sleepover, the birthday girl and I set off assisted by her handy phone map app. This picked us out a route which took us along the M25, M1 then through some posh residential areas, avoiding getting sideswiped by a lorry but pitching us up in the leafy car park at the bottom of the hill after a 2 hour run. Parking free - yay! Steep walk up to the venue - boo! Into this ornate glass-roofed (and unforgivingly concrete-floored – glad I brought my kneestraps!) auditorium to get our bearings, before an unexpected opening act, primary colour-suited Irish trio Whenyoung, on at an early 7.15. They impressed me at least with some spritely girly indiepop; opener “Blank Walls” appropriated the ascending riff from The Julie Dolphin’s “Birthday”, and follow-up “Heaven On Earth”’s sugary pop recalled Altered Images, particularly in the vocalist’s yelping yodelly intonations. We agreed that the cover of The Cranberries’ finest moment “Dreams” was a little too much on the nose, but I could forgive them that, as a subsequent “Pretty Pure” (introduced by the gabbling vocalist as their new single, probably the only thing she said for their entire set that I understood!) was a toughened-up Alvvays-like C86 strumalong. All in all, a very decent start.

Much was expected of main support Dream Wife, having come recommended by 3 gents whose musical opinions I respect highly. Well sorry, Messrs. Gurney, Fenton and Langsbury, but they were terrible; all misplaced swagger and attitude, with not a hint of a tune within miles of their amateurish, garage sleazoid set. An odd looking bunch too, with one guitarist copying Grayson Perry’s hairdo, and the cheerleader singer very clearly was her own biggest fan. Sorry girls (and token bloke drummer) but you’re all image over substance, and currently you make Elastica look professional; stop rummaging through Ex Hex’s dustbin and write some songs with tunes in!

We’d given Dream Wife up as a bad job after a couple of numbers and were gratified to discover that what they lacked in tunes, they made up for in brevity, their set clocking in at barely 20 minutes! So we were able to re-enter the by-now packed and seethingly excited auditorium, getting a spot level with the mixing desk, with a pocket of air and a good view. An impatient wait was rewarded at 9.20 with the lights smashing to black, then illuminating the iridescent curtain backdrop as The Vaccines bounded on to the strains of Abba’s “Waterloo”, lustily sung back by this young crowd. The side screens kicked into life as Justin Young led his rabble into the sneering upbeat riffery of opener “Nightclub”, then the dig dumb Ramones-like “Wrecking Bar” and a strutting, pucky and rather splendid actually “Teenage Icon” really got the crowd going.

For all their flaws and still-obvious antecedents, The Vaccines are nonetheless a very fine “live” band indeed, their strength lying in channelling and amplifying the enthusiasm of their audience into one communal mass, their simple, knockabout upbeat songs becoming hooky anthems, resonating around this huge hall as the frenzied crowd devotedly echoed them back. “You know what's coming,” Justin teased as the single note opening to the 50’s soda bar doo-wop of “Wetsuit” turned into a communal chant, then newie “Out On The Street” impressed with a bouncy beat and a helium hook, challenging Justin’s vocals, and “Melody Calling” recalled The Smiths with a melancholy and undulating guitar hook.

“Did you miss us? 6 years is a long time in rock’n’roll!” enquired Justin before the chunky 80’s radio rock of newie “Your Love Is My Favourite Band”, then, “Post Break Up Sex” was introduced with, “[this is] one from the vaults – if you don’t know the words you’re in the wrong room!” “Norgaard” and “Surfing In The Sky” made for a galloping mid-set double as the band hurtled through proceedings with some pace, and the very Buddy Holly rockabilly drumbeat of “I Always Knew” finally led into their finest moment, the hurtling intro and feelgood hook of “If You Wanna”. Glitter confetti appropriately fired off as the glitter stomp of set closer “I Can’t Quit” rounded off a whip-crack hour set, which seemed to me a little short for an arena-level headlining set, but I couldn’t deny the boys had packed it full or energy, hooks and effort.

We were looking for a flyer so Rach was happy to head off midway through final encore number “All In White” at half ten, before a fairly easy egress and inky M4 hurtle saw us home for 12.30. A thoroughly fun evening out with The Vaccines, still hardly the world’s most original band for me, but increasingly good value “live” and, most importantly, the birthday girl had a ball!

1078 THE VACCINES, Marlborough Thirty8 Café, Thursday 22nd March 2018

A proper family outing, this, then…  my dear lady wife Rachel, a massive Vaccines fan thanks to their evident classic 50’s rock’n’roll influences (albeit filtered through a new millennial indie rock sensibility), had already booked us tix for their forthcoming Alexandra Palace gig next month; however another, earlier opportunity arose to catch them, this time at considerably closer quarters, at Marlborough’s excellent Sound Knowledge record shop, where they were booked to do an in-store performance and signing session promoting their forthcoming, 4^th, album “Combat Sports”. A phone call to the shop revealed a purchase of said album was necessary to secure entry, so I simply treated this as the price of admission and organised entry for the whole family. Rach is, as mentioned, a massive fan, I’ve been warming to them over time and have always enjoyed them “live”, and Logan and Kasey were both intrigued by some Vaccines numbers on rotation on the car stereo, both in particular singing happily along to oldie “If You Wanna”…

We picked up our “Vaccinated” wristbands the previous Saturday, after an abortive earlier trip, so had a drive down to this old Market Town after tea, parking up in the middle of the High Street for 6.30. The event, being held in Sound Knowledge’s neighbouring café Thirty8 (downstairs this time) was already rammed, so we got drinks in the upstairs bar before taking a spot outside the venue, next to the outside speakers and in neck-craning view of the side of the stage. Even this patch of earth however got fairly crowded as The Vaccines squeezed through to kick off their short set, and Rach took Kasey back to a less crowded spot as the opening bars of newie “Nightclub” proved too noisy for her! Logan and I stayed in, however, as The Vaccines powered through this impressive, spiky opener, plunging headlong thereafter into another, similarly swift and whip-smart newie “Surfing In The Sky”. Breathless stuff!

This was actually as good as I’d seen The Vaccines; however short, this was a performance of impressive purpose, and I found myself musing how their NME-hyped ascent up the ladder of rock’n’roll fame, a dozen rungs at a time, to Academy level headliners in the blink of an eye had actually robbed us of the opportunity to see how they performed in a small venue, where stages are cramped and festooned with wires and equipment, and you can see the whites of the baying crowds eyes. A shame indeed, as on tonight’s evidence they’d have been fucking great in, say, The Joiners or The Thekla back in the day, for this was a committed and razor-sharp performance, thrilling and dynamic, with vocalist Justin Young, who had been developing nicely into an arena-level mass-communicator of some note, proving even more impressive in these cosy confines, throwing shapes with a commanding strut and swagger.

And I’m pleased to report that I was very impressed with all 4 new numbers on display this evening; whereas swathes of their previous output had seemed so much like a hotch-potch of their influences (Ramones-like big fun dumb punk rock, naïve C86 jangle, and that ever-present Buddy Holly-esque 50’s soda bar doo-wop), tonight’s newies sounded, well, like The Vaccines. At last. Well done boys, it’s only taken you 4 albums (Ha! Well, for me, anyway…!)…

Logan sneaked into a spot by the side of the stage early doors, then a steward ushered him around to a spot stage right at the front, whereupon I spotted my mate Stuart Gould down the front, Logan squeezing through to join Stu at this vantage spot. So for the inevitable “If You Wanna” my lad was front center, bellowing the words back to Justin, a point not lost on the frontman. Another fine newie, the Summery “whoo-ooh-oh” catchiness of “I Can’t Quit” ended a splendid vignette, a serious appetite whetter for Ally Pally!

Rach and Kasey had danced at the side, then bagged early queue spots for the signing session upstairs in Sound Knowledge itself. So after a short wait (during which I chatted annoyingly loudly (allegedly!) with various friends, including James, Laura, Rich Carter and Stuart “Langers” and family) we all met and got pics and signed stuff with an affable band, Justin taking it in good humour when Logan (referencing Frank Turner) asked him, “are you the last great romantic poet?” A fun evening rounded off and we got the kids back home for a slightly later bedtime. Fine stuff from The Vaccines, and nice to see them in front of a couple of hundred folks; there’ll be 12,000 in at Ally Pally…!

945 THE VACCINES, All We Are, Fufanu, Bath Pavilion, Saturday 4 April 2015

I have Sarah Henderson to thank for this one... when indie pop pilferers and doubtless future (and before too long I’d guess) arena-fillers The Vaccines announced a mini tour of smallish (for them) venues, ostensibly to bed in material from forthcoming album “English Grafitti”, fangirl Rach looked into getting tix for this one, but they sold out in pretty short order. However, I was happy to relieve old Level 3 and facebook friend Sarah of her 2 tix, when she suddenly realised, after receiving them, that they were for a different night than the one for which she was available. Whoops… the lesson here, ladies and gentlemen, is…! Thus was an unexpected extra added to my Spring dance card, a chance to catch up with these fun but plagiaristic indie darlings to see if they’d written any songs of their own by now… (ouch!)

We had new babysitters tonight, in Rach’s work friend Laura and her fiancé Rob (thanks guys!), so we set off for a swift drive to this easy-to-find venue, finding ample parking in the cricket ground opposite and wandering into this large hall, as openers Fufanu kicked off their early set. An Icelandic lot, apparently, they regaled us with a doomy brand of droney pseudo-80’s post punk gothy rock, which normally would have been right in my Bunnyman/ Joy Division-inhabited wheelhouse were it not for the fact it was suffocatingly and somewhat ham-fistedly delivered, and the last number’s vocals seemed incredibly out of key. However after 1 ½ numbers of main support All We Are, we were wishing for Fufanu back, as the female fronted 3-piece AWA were excruciatingly godawful; their opener was the kind of piss-weak insipid white boy jazz funk which I rather hoped had gone out of fashion with The Style Council, then they went downhill from there, by which time we were in the bar trying in vain to escape their irritating noise, particularly the blonde vocalist, who sang as if she was wearing knickers 10 sizes too small for her!

Thankfully it eventually abated, so we found a good viewing spot stage left for The Vaccines arrival to an enthusiastic welcome from their keyed up and ready to rock young massive. Straight into tubthumping, roustabout opener “Teenage Icon” and revealing their 2 key influences from the outset in the couplet, “I’m no Frankie Avalon, I’m nobody’s hero…” 50’s embryonic rock’n’roll and 70’s post-punk new wave are stamped through The Vaccines work as through a stick of rock, with the gloriously dumb Ramones-like singalong punk of “Wreckin’ Bar” underlining this, and guitarist Freddie’s sleazy Cramps-like fretwork on the subsequent “Ghost Town” providing the punctuation point. Not that their young audience were playing “spot the influence” with this old muso… they were too busy moshing, raising the roof raucously singing along to The Vaccines’ easy and catchy hooks, and generally immersing themselves in a rocking good time.

As expected, a sprinking of newies punctuated the set, although only the hooky “Handsome” impressed; I found “Dream Lover” an unexpectedly jarring slow-burn glam sleaze with a Billy Idol-esque chorus, and “Want You So Bad” was a disappointingly incongruous slowie. No matter, there were still high spots aplenty in the older material; “Wetsuit” saw a mass singalong to this Buddy Holly doo-wop ballad, the mid-set double of the excellent, galloping “All In White” (which saw vocalist Justin abandon the mic for the crowd to fill in) and the haunting “Melody Calling” (“a golden oldie… from 2013,” introduced Justin) was a splendid mid-set double whammy, and the elongated, pounding intro to their best number, the penultimate “If You Wanna”, saw the crowd go even more batshit crazy, if at all possible.

The one hour set was capped by a 3-song encore featuring a bouncy “Norgaard”, after which the boys took a served bow; they’d put in a good shift tonight and left all their sweat and effort onstage, particularly Justin, who’s evolving ever more into a pretty decent singer and stadium-friendly frontman. A persistent but patient wait got me a set-list too, then off we went, with egress proving as easy as access, after a fine gig overall. So OK, they’re still not the most cutting-edge original band in the world, but there are plenty of other bands at a similar elevated level of popularity who are considerably less deserving of said status than this lot, who at least deliver an inclusive, effervescent and fun brand of catchy indie pop to their young audience. More power to ‘em, really. And thanks again Sarah for the tix!

864 THE VACCINES, Diiv, Deep Valley, Pale, Cardiff University Great Hall, Friday 16 November 2012

Aah, The Vaccines, The Vaccines…. Winners of my Best New Band of 2011 by default only, after delivering an effervescent if totally unoriginal debut album in “What Did You Expect From…” which frankly sounded like a bunch of teenage boys gleefully rummaging through their parents’ record collection (“look, Justin! “The Ramones”! “C86”! “Buddy Holly’s Greatest Hits”! Now, what if we...!”), they’re back this year with a hastily-delivered follow up, “Come Of Age”, which sounds like, well, more of the same really. Hmmm. Nevertheless, Rachel remains a big fan, and this Friday night gig was an opportunity for a sleepover for the kids at Grandma’s, so tickets were duly snapped up before they quickly sold out. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting too much, but after a relative clunker from Ken the previous night, I could really do with a good gig. Could the Vaccines deliver?

Things didn’t bode well after a nightmare journey; Rach picked us up straight from work, but slow M4 traffic throughout Wales turned into a parking-mare in central Cardiff, as we realised with horror that there was a Wales Rugby International on that evening at the Millennium Stadium! I bloody hate rugby at the best of times, and this was just so ill-timed… After an increasingly frustrating drive around, we eventually lucked into a residential space just round the corner from the back of the venue! Crossed the railtracks, then entered this labyrinthine student union to get to the venue… back over the tracks again! Weird! So we wandered into the Great Hall just as duo Pale, first band on (of 4!), were completing their set, channelling the ghosts of Soft Cell with their dour synthpop.

Worse was to follow, though, as 2 girl Deep Vally, on at 8, assaulted our ears with the lowest common denominator type of primitive bluesy grunge sludge, tuneless and horrendous (The White Stripes have a lot to answer for, we agreed), so we abandoned the hall and hung out in the foyer until they stopped. Main support Diiv could only be an improvement after that, and they were; a group of scruffy oiks playing fast-paced, chiming, largely instrumental, freeform and chorus-free powerpop songs with understated shoegazey vocals, which stopped every two minutes or so then seemingly kicked into the same song again! I was actually kindly disposed towards them, but I was happy to concede to Rachel’s point that from our stage right vantage point, on the fringes of the crowd, their floppy fringes and oversized grunge t-shirts made them look like young Hurleys!

Rach and I took bets on whether The Vaccines would keep this large, young and drunkenly enthusiastic crowd waiting; she won, as the lights dimmed only a minute after the scheduled 9.45, and The Vaccines came on to the strains of ELO’s “Living Thing”. Lead rabble-rouser Justin Young bounded on to a, “what’s up? It’s Friday night!” and led the band into a chuntering, swaggering “No Hope”, followed up with a Ramones-like, big, dumb and fast “Wrecking Bar”, that really ignited the crowd into a frenzy of moshing and singing along.

This set the tone for the early part of the set; ragged, ramshackle yet joyously fun spunky rock thrills, the band getting by on theirs and the audience’s collective sweaty exuberance. However, what really made this set for me early doors was when they took their feet off the loud pedal and actually turned it down a notch. So a lovely, mid-paced and swaying “Lack Of Understanding” ventured into soda-bar doo-wop territory, and a subsequent rousing singalong to the strident Buddy Holly-esque ballad “Wetsuit” saw us party like it was 1957, before a jolly “Teenage Icon” turned the spunky punky wick up again, whilst keeping one foot in the 50’s with the Frankie Avalon namecheck. Vocalist Justin Young’s vocals thankfully sounded much better this time, more proper rock vocalist than bellowing drunken karaoke, and the band played fast and frantic to back him up. A late-set double of another rousing singalong to Aftershave Ocean”, and the mutant rockabilly of “Ghost Town” was another highlight, before set closer, the Soup Dragon-like C86 guitar and drum bombast of “If You Wanna” saw even me getting sucked into the slamdancing hordes. A 3 song encore capped with “Norgaard” rounded off a swift hour from a band who really rather raised their game tonight and started to justify their acclaim and reputation. Great gig, way better than expected, thanks – and the last time they’re playing venues this small, I bet...!

835 THE VACCINES, Frankie And The Heartstrings, Bristol O2 Academy, Friday 2 December 2011

In the almost complete absence of any promising new band discoveries this year (Okkervil River and Male Bonding notwithstanding, but OR have been around for donkey’s years, and MB bassist Kevin Hendricks had previous with Seafood, so I’m not sure how “new” they actually count as…), NME press darlings and this week’s “Best Band In The World” (according to said venerable rag) The Vaccines are probably the best “brand new” band I’ve come across in 2011. And yes, I know I’m damning them with faint praise… Nevertheless, their spunky, surf guitar overload take on jangly C86 ramshackle upbeat pop has had Rach tapping her toes, and me warmly reaching for early Soup Dragons/ Razorcuts comparisons. We sorted tix for this one, which sold out in double quick hype-propelled time, and I for one approached it with curious trepidation; do we have a band here, or is this yet another young group suddenly hyped to the eyeballs, and, unable to sustain it, destined to fall from grace almost as quick?

Bristol Friday night Christmas shopping, plus an early curfew, necessitated an early departure at 6.20, but the Cabot Circus traffic didn’t delay us as much as feared. So we parked up and hit the venue, already rammed to the gills with teenage indie kids, but also an odd smattering of greying old lags such as myself, at 7.30, as support Frankie And The Heartstrings came on. Led by a charismatic young singer (presumably Frankie), they played some nice innocent strumalong pop with an 80’s ramshackle bent a la early Orange Juice, had one good atmospheric newie recalling British Sea Power, then spoilt a good impression with a clumsy ska number to finish. Hmmm.

Took our usual spot on the stuffed floor, stage left, and enjoyed some good pre-gig music (Neutral Milk Hotel! “Born To Run”! “Teenage Kicks”!) before The Vaccines came on to The Ramones “Rock And Roll Radio” which made me kindly disposed to them from the start, and after an oddly dour opener, they hit the “amphetamine fast surf guitar rush” button with “Wrecking Bar (Ra Ra Ra)”, and the crowd – including Rachel! - went utterly batshit crazy.

Now, if I was a 16 year old indie kid and had never heard of the likes of The Ramones, Buzzcocks, Velvet Underground, Birdland or even Buddy Holly (!), then I’d likely think The Vaccines were the greatest thing I’d ever heard. Luckily for them, that description probably accounts for the vast majority of their demographic, and certainly of the crowd tonight. However I have, so at times their material comes across like 4 kids gleefully rummaging through their parents’ record collection. “Wetsuit” was very 50’s, Buddy Holly-esque, and newie “Teenage Icon” recalled SLF’s “Nobody’s Hero”, at least in subject matter. Overall it’s all simple, almost primitive stuff, and so far, for me they’re not adding much of their own to the mix. Nevertheless, this matters very little to this audience, who greeted every note with frenzied devotion verging on mania, and contributed massively to a thrilling and exciting atmosphere. What The Vaccines do do extremely well is fuel this atmosphere with an equally thrilling, dynamic and exhiliarating performance, led by chief rabble rouser Justin Young, possessor of a voice I’m not sure I like “live”, a cross between a Lou Reed street sneer and a slurring bellow, but who channelled the energy well, lapping up the crowd adulation. A short, snappy 45 minute set plus encores was highlighted by a Ramones-like and rather splendid actually “If You Wanna”, before which Justin challenged us to, “show us how you do it in Bristol,” and the crowd responded in kind.

So, overall a by no means original, but a thrilling and totally enjoyable gig. Long term, the jury’s out for me, but they’re walking the walk right now and bringing simple, classic and fun rock to a new generation. And who should be in the scrum for the car park tickets in Trenchard outside afterwards; none other than England football legend and “old punk rocker” Stuart Pearce! I couldn’t resist patting him on the shoulder and asking, “did you enjoy that then, Sir?” to which I got the instant riposte, “whadda you fink?” Fantastic – who am I to argue with Psycho?