I was in two minds about buying a ticket to this concert. They were so expensive, and I was only partly familiar with Stevie's back catalogue. Then Nina Nesbitt, an artist I adore, announced she would be the support act. I noticed a ticket for a seat near the front of Section 005 (front/middle) that was a standard (not Platinum) price. Still, I debated whether to go. I'd been off work with Covid. Would I be fit by the weekend? Would it be appropriate to attend? I decided it wasn't worth it.
Then Stevie rescheduled.
Still, I hummed and hawed. That seat was gone, and I had no interest in paying a fortune for a seat in the Hydro gods. On the way back from Maid of Stone, I reviewed the setlist from her Manchester show and was impressed. I knew most of the songs. She was playing Fleetwood Mac numbers and covers as well as her own material. Ticketmaster also had a single seat five rows from the front...
I logged onto the website whilst travelling in the car. After nearly an hour and five timeouts later, I still didn't have it. I didn't know if my new credit card had been blocked, the internet signal was playing up or if I was mistyping some digits with my pudgy fingers. It kept saying I'd forgotten to enter something. Then I noticed the ticket numbers going back up again, so I figured there was a problem with the website. I tried the app, and this time, I was successful. I finally was in.
Anyway, that's the origin story. What about the gig?
I arrived early enough to catch Nina's set. There was little fanfare to announce her arrival on stage. The massive screen at the rear of the stage displayed the cover image of her new album, Mansions, with information about its release date (and a QR code, which I didn't try to scan). Her band consisted of two blokes who wandered on, picked up their instruments and started playing, with Nina joining them shortly afterwards. Attendees were trickling in, with lots of seats still empty, so it felt like she was performing before the gig had started.
Her voice was magical. Although this was new material, I knew it well enough to mouth the lyrics, willing the audience to join in. She played exactly the same set as the other tour shows but then announced she playing one more song because it was her home town. She closed the set with an acoustic version of Dougie MacLean's Caledonia. It was slightly disappointing that she didn't have a full band with her, so I guess I'll need to catch her on tour later in the year.
I'm Coming Home
Nina Nesbitt Setlist
Pages
big things, small town
Mansion
I'm Coming Home
Parachute
Anger
I had no preconceptions about Stevie Nicks prior to this gig. I hadn't watched any interviews or YouTube footage of recent concerts, so didn't know what to expect. I knew what she was going to play but not how it was going to sound.
I was pleasantly surprised.
Stevie Nicks comes across as that chatty gran who just happened to be a massive rockstar last century. She's got stories aplenty, and she's going to tell them to you at length, incorporating every tiny detail she can remember, whether it is necessary or not. She'll also bring out her Seventies wardrobe, spinning around in all the pretty capes that she accrued. Ordinarily, you might ask yourself, 'Do I have the patience for this?" Then she sings, and you realise this lady still has quite a set of pipes. She confesses she does her forty minutes of vocal exercises every day, and you realise she's not talking about her jaw-flapping anecdotes. Her voice may be deeper than it was, but it is strong, and it can hit all the notes. She has backing singers, but she doesn't need them to support her. She admits at her age, her mobility might be worse than it was, but she gets there. Best of all, her fiery spirit and determination are very much alive. She is going to put on a show for everyone to love, and no one will tell her otherwise.
It could have been a nostalgic car crash, relying on the goodwill of the audience, but it wasn't. It was seriously good. Her band was tight, the sound excellent, her vocals clear, and the visuals suitably appropriate (if that's an expression). Whether it was worth the hefty ticket price, I'm not sure. I'd have happily paid half what I did and been content. But when the artist has been around for over half a century and is still this talented, you can justify the expense. Who knows when or if she'll return.
I was surprised to see so many young people in the audience. Most wouldn't even have been born in Stevie's heyday. The mix between young and old was fairly even. Beside me on my left sat two ladies in their sixties (later introducing themselves as Margaret and Jean). Their whoops as Stevie arrived on stage were louder than anything I experienced at Maid Of Stone (bar Massive Waggons). Margaret liked to dance along to the music while shooting videos on her phone, with the camera light illuminating the rows in front. She left to go to the bar twice, each time returning with a tray of four alcoholic spirits. On the second return, Jean exclaimed, "You bought FOUR", as if they couldn't drink that much. Of course, they could. They enjoyed themselves immensely. Afterwards, she apologised for encroaching on my space, but I didn't mind... that much.
After the show, as the crowds navigated the big red tube that crosses over the Clydeside Expressway, the busker at the near end played Edge of Seventeen, accompanied by a chorus of females who belted out the words. That would have been a nice finale to the night had it not been topped by the busker at the other end, who was strumming the familiar F1 riff of The Chain as we exited the bridge. Corker!
A great night.
I'll share a final thought that occurred to me during the show. I'm not proud of it. Watching the big screen, I suddenly noticed that Stevie resembled a man in drag, that man being an aged Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. Once you see it, you can't unsee it. (The clue's in her name: Stevie). It's just as well that society encourages these things nowadays (not the serial killer part).
Setlist
Intro music - Runnin' Down A Dream (Tom Petty song)
Outside the Rain
Dreams (Fleetwood Mac song)
If Anyone Falls
Stop Draggin' My Heart Around
For What It's Worth (Buffalo Springfield cover)
Gypsy (Fleetwood Mac song)
Wild Heart
Bella Donna
Stand Back
Free Fallin' (Tom Petty cover)
Gold Dust Woman (Fleetwood Mac song)
Leather and Lace (with Steve Real)
Edge of Seventeen
Encore:
Rhiannon (Fleetwood Mac song)
Landslide (Fleetwood Mac song)
Outro music
(Song played from tape) Got a Hold on Me (Christine McVie song)
We headed for breakfast a little later than previously, as my compatriots requested more time to recover from Saturday's session. My skin was sensitive around the neckline of my T-shirt. My eight-hour Soltan had obviously knocked off early due to overwork.
The sky was overcast, but rain was unlikely, so I left my poncho at the hotel. We decided against an early trip into town and went straight from the town car park to the event. The queues to get in were minimal.
The Sons of Liberty VIP set was first on today's list, so we sat at the table at the front nearest the drumkit. I didn't account for someone pitching up their camp chair in front of me. Still, at least he was sitting down.
There was one major problem, though. The band and equipment were there, but no sound guy to hook everything up. SoL had to fill while we waited. They chatted with the audience, made jokes about the situation, and generally kept the tone fun. They mentioned being disappointed that When Rivers Meet had gone home due to a family emergency. That disappointed me, too, as they were also on my list.
Eventually, the sound guy appeared with microphones and cables, but it still took another twenty minutes to set up the gear. Given the delay, SoL asked if we wanted to hear their full set or just a shorter one. The audience unanimously cheered for the former.
They were fantastic! There was a real party atmosphere. Two blokes in the audience even bought them rounds during the set. I recorded the first song and then kept going. I hadn't intended to record the whole thing, but I'm glad I did. Let's hope they tour soon.
We next went to see Black Roze on the Firestarter stage. Her voice was kooky, but the music didn't grab me. I bailed when the singer took out her whip.
A late lunch of a pulled pork burger confused me as there was no burger, just pulled pork in a bun. Generally, the food was expensive but of a high standard. There was plenty of choice, though some vendors took longer than others to prepare the food. The shops at the entrance held little interest to me. I didn't partake in the axe-throwing, either.
We returned to the Firestarter stage to catch Twister. They write catchy tunes, but today, the singer's voice decided to go on holiday (his line). He apologised, struggling to hit the required range, but gave it his best. We watched the whole set. They're worth catching again.
Next, we headed over to the VIP area to catch Chantel Mcgregor. Standing at the back of the crowd, just under the awning, I could barely see her. When she started playing some fancy twiddly bits on her guitar, I left to watch the band on the Phoenix stage. I'm told she improved.
As December Falls are a passionate rock band, full of power and energy. Their lead singer, Bethany, reminds me of Avril Lavigne, only younger. They wowed the crowd with their rocking numbers.
I made my way to the barrier at the end of their set, as next up was Massive Wagons. The space at the front filled quickly despite other bands playing elsewhere. I think everyone knew their set was going to be special. The security team stretched a roll of black tape across the grass in front of the stage, creating a line that should not be crossed by the photographers. The security girl explained to my neighbours at the barrier that this was due to the use of pyros on stage.
I watched the road crew set up. Baz came out and checked where everything was. A guitarist I didn't recognise did his sound check. In his plain white T-shirt, I thought he was a roadie. but it turned out he was Adam Thistlewaite, one of the band's guitarists. I should probably have thought of something to say when he said hi.
The background music playing while this was all going on was Disney classics reimagined as rock tunes. I chatted to the mother beside me while we waited, commenting on how busy it was getting already. She was from Northern Ireland, though she lived locally. Her two kids were with her, including her six-year-old boy. He could barely see over the barrier. I told her the story of our accommodation mishap, letting slip an F word, and hastily apologised for my use of the Glaswegian. The mother then pointed out that Massive Wagons would be playing a song called "Fuck the Haters", so I needn't worry. The child had heard it all before.
A short girl stood behind me. By now, the place was hoaching. She tapped me on the back and requested that I don't fall on her, showing me her walking stick. It was an obvious attempt to pull my heartstrings, and obviously, I resisted. I had stood for nearly an hour. I did promise her, given I'd forgotten to take my medication that morning, that if I had a heart attack, I'd fall on the gentlemen instead.
Massive Wagons were immense. Baz's voice has such power. He is a deranged performer but still professional. He knows how to deliver a performance. The band was loud, even with my earplugs in. I videoed a couple of songs, then decided I was missing out and put the phone away. Generation Prime was my fave on the day.
I hung around to see if I could get a drumstick or plectrum or one of the setlists, but it wasn't to be. One of the ladies who was more fortunate than me allowed me to take a picture, though.
Note the use of marker pen to indicate when the front pyros would be used. There had been much chatter about the original printing not containing this info.
Missing on TV and Skateboard
Please Stay Calm
Next up on the Firestarter stage was The Karma Effect. I hadn't seen them before (but I do have a ticket to see them later in the year). Today, I felt the lead singer struggled with his voice. He pulled away from hitting the big notes as if he had laryngitis or had inhaled too much of the smoke machine vapour. The band sounded good, though, and he can play a mean guitar.
Testify
Next, I hopped (not literally) a short distance to see Larkin Poe. The sisters drew a big crowd, and my view was partially blocked by all the heads and baseball caps. I enjoyed their set for a while, but then I felt the lure of a chair pulling me back to the VIP section. There's only so much slide guitar I can take. I'm glad I got to see them, if only to know I didn't need to see them again. Not my thing.
Mr Big didn't appeal to me much either, so we listened to them from the VIP section. I knew some of their songs, but I mainly felt a big 'So what?' about them. We left early during their Cat Steven's cover of "Wild World". Scott even told us his Mr Big one-liner: "What size are Mr Big's T-shirts?"
The festival was a great experience. Everyone (almost) was friendly. There was no fighting or overly drunk individuals. There were no midges. There was great weather. My credit card took a battering, but it was worth it. I was exposed to a wide range of rock music. I didn't get to see everything, but that was okay because I'd chosen to invest my time in the bands I needed to see. Maybe next time, I'll get better at the social side of things. A lot of people bond at the festival and form friendships. I'm so grateful to Bob and Scott for letting me tag along.
I'll go again (but I reserve the right to see the line-up first).
The hotel's breakfast buffet was delicious. We noticed one of the festival's press photographers also having breakfast and Bob, being Bob, introduced himself to her. We chatted, and Louise shared her concern over last night's poor stage lighting, complaining that most of her shots of GUN were in silhouette. She recommended we check out her Instagram page to see more of her work. https://www.instagram.com/louise_phillips_photography/
Louise in action
Now that we were no longer staying within walking distance of the festival, we decided that, as I don't drink, it would be fairer for Bob to drive in and for me to drive back, allowing him to sample the festival's many beers.
We went for a wander around Maidstone, checking out the shops around the town centre.
For Those About to Rock, we have an apt cannon.
Already, the day's heat was building, so we sought shade in a cafe and drank some refreshments before heading for Mote Park. The queue outside the event was fairly long, but Bob knew there were two queues: one for those still to get their wristbands and another for those like us who had gotten theirs the previous night. We joined the shorter queue.
I hadn't brought my poncho because the weather forecast said it would stay dry, and I didn't want to carry a bag all day. We sorted out a round of drinks and sat at a bench in the VIP area, listening to Daxx and Roxane, who were playing over on the Phoenix Stage.
Then it rained.
The shower only lasted ten minutes, but it was heavy enough to make us decamp to below the awning of the bar area. Bob had his poncho with him and put it on. Fortunately, this was the only time over the weekend that he needed it.
A soundcheck was taking place on the main Inferno stage, and quickly, I realised that the VIP area was perhaps not the best place to listen to the bands as both stages could be heard simultaneously. With the festival being so small, or 'boutique', this was inevitable. The problem didn't occur, obviously, when you were in front of the stage.
Scarlet Rebels have some catchy tunes. Perhaps it was their South Wales accents, but they reminded me of a rockier Stereophonics. I enjoyed them enough to buy a ticket for their upcoming tour. Hopefully, the sound quality will be better at The Cathouse. As the first band on that stage, I think the sound guys were still working out the levels.
Then, it was over to The Commoners. I'd seen this Canadian band before supporting Samantha Fish at the Barrowlands. I'd been impressed by their performance then, and today's show was equally good. I couldn't help imagining getting out the Brasso to wipe off the verdigris-coloured tattoos from the lead singer's arms. I was standing too far back to shoot any good videos. There were a lot of tall people attending and my camera would focus on their heads and baseball caps rather than the band on stage.
Ignore the backdrop, these are The Commoners.
I spotted a festival veteran wearing a pretty cool hat with all his wristbands sewn in like tassels. I wonder if his frequent festival attendance had anything to do with his pair of hearing aids.
I skipped South of Salem and went to get some lunch next, choosing a turkey baguette with all the trimming, managing to drop some of the crest of my stomach bump, staining my t-shirt. The water at the sinks in the VIP toilets had all the pressure of a man with a struggling prostate, but somehow, I managed to wipe away most of the marks.
Then I crashed. The early start and lack of sleep caught up with me, and I needed a sit-down. I found an empty half bench and politely asked if I could join the man already sitting there. He said yes, as it was a friendly place (for the most part). It felt so good to take my substantial weight off my feet. When Rivers Meetplayed a curtailed set due to the sound engineers' difficulty getting their equipment to work. I didn't enjoy the band as much as I thought I would, but I was tired. The crowd cleared again.
I watched a toddler dressed in his black AB/CD T-shirt play, dance, and jump around with his mum. His joy was infectious. I realised that the kid had been to as many festivals as I had (if not more).
Then, a large woman appeared, carrying a loaded flatbread from the Greek food stall, and plopped herself in the small gap between me and the man. She did say, 'Excuse me,' but by that time, her landing gear was already committed to hitting the bench. I shifted over as much as I could but couldn't escape the touch of her thighs, which seemed to flow like unset blancmange to fill the gap. When she accidentally dropped some of the toppings, she angrily kicked them away with her flip-flops. Her son and husband joined her, standing in front as there were no other free benches. I'll not forget the sound of her masticating while talking to them. When she rose to go somewhere, her husband claimed her spot, creating a six-inch gap between us. Ah, the relief. But she came back. Her son brought her ice cream, and I feared a Mrs Creosote moment. I spotted a man looking for somewhere to sit, clutching a loaded baked potato, and decided time to go.
I chose to sit in front of the stage, my back supported by the barrier. Wayward Sons would be on later, and I wanted a good view. I've always been fascinated by Toby Jepson's parlance on Planet Rock, wondering if it was all scripted or if he made it up on the spot. Anyway, his band was great. I noticed that because the photographers were only present for the first three songs, the band tended to pull their favourite poses during this period, creating a slightly artificial effect. They had only just started and were already in full-blown rock-god mode. It didn't put me off, though.
Bloody Typical
I waited at the barrier after the band finished, determined to keep the same spot for Those Damn Crows. They were my main draw for attending the festival, along with GUN and Massive Wagons, and I wanted a great view. This meant missing The Warning, who, by all accounts, were rather good. Other people hung around, too, but most wandered off. A man on crunching took the space between me and another girl. Then, a gaggle of ladies appeared and reached past him to grab the barrier. They didn't give him any space. The band were not going to be on for ages and they were right in his face. He left, feeling pushed out. I stayed my ground, even though I had a back shoved against me for most of the time. I even overheard them talking about using their elbows to make space for the others, not realising I was listening. I shot them back a 'fuck you' stare, and they giggled like naughty school girls caught by teacher. Anyway, I held onto my space at the barrier.
Those Damn Crows were soooo good. I love their songs. When Shane jumped off the stage to join the crowd, he stood right in front of me at one point. I didn't know what to do. He was looking right at me. Was he going to leap onto the step on the other side of the barrier and sing to the crowd? Was he going to jump over and join us? I then realised too late he was looking to Hi-5 me and, by the time I'd raised my hand, he'd already tapped me on the shoulder and moved on. Still, it was a moment.
Two things gutted me (but not enough to dampen my enjoyment). The first was when I thought I'd filmed the whole of Blink of an Eye, only to discover it stopped after three minutes. I must have accidentally touched the stop button when the lady beside me nudged me (I don't think on purpose). The second was when I realised my camera had started in portrait for the final song. When I flipped it to landscape it meant the whole recording ended up sideways. Sigh! Never mind. The Crows were superb, and I was floating on another high.
This time, I knew what to expect.
Let's Go Psycho
This Time I'm Ready
When Will I see You Again
We chilled in the VIP area during Wolfmother, leaving before the end of their set. None of us were into them, but they still sounded good, and the crowd was up for them.
The drive back to the hotel was fun, as I'd never driven an automatic before and had to learn not to use my left leg. It was only a short journey, and we got back to the hotel without incident. The car's headlights revealed a rabbit on the grass. I wished I had taken the photograph just so I could label it "Rabbit in the Headlights."
PS Bob got very drunk. He doesn't remember if he saw Tyketto.
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