Bido Lito June 2021 Issue 114

ISSUE 114 / JUNE 2021
NEW MUSIC + CREATIVE CULTURE
LIVERPOOL
FREE!
PODGE
Life is fun
THE
CORAL
CRAWLERS
LIVE MUSIC
RETURNS
KATY J
PEARSON

CINEMA
IN THE
CITY
A new cinematic experience by
FACT. Discover the best films
in extraordinary places.
COTTON EXCHANGE ROOFTOP GARDEN
WITH FOOD + DRINK FROM MARAY
JULY 2
JULY 3
JULY 4
Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets
Ammonite
Apples
TICKETS ON SALE
fact.co.uk/cinema-in-the-city
Funded by
Venue Partner

TATE LIVERPOOL
UNTIL 5 SEPTEMBER 2021
‘IRREDUCIBLE AND UNFORGETTABLE’
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FREE FOR
TATE MEMBERS
Supported by the Don McCullin Exhibition
Supporters Group and Tate Members
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Don McCullin Liverpool 8 in the early 1960’s 1963 © Don McCullin

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COMING SOON
ANTI SOCIAL JAZZ CLUB / BERNIE CONNOR / DISCO BRUNCH
EVERYTHINGS NICE / HOMOELECTRIC / IDLES DJ SET
JADE LI / JAMES ORGAN / JAMZ SUPERNOVA
JESS GASCOIGNE / JOSEPH KEENEN / JUSTIN ROBERTSON
LOST ART SOUNDSYSTEM / NIGHTCRAWLER PIZZA / NO FAKIN DJS
PUB TROPICANA / SPEAKERBOXXX / SUPERSTTION / TIM BURGESS
40 SLATER STREET, LIVERPOOL. L1 4BX THEMERCHANTLIVERPOOL.CO.UK

ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYER ALL DAYERS
EVOL presents
FESTEVOL
INVISIBLE WIND FACTORY LIVERPOOL
ALL DAYERS
SATURDAY 7TH AUGUST 2021
Doors 1pm - 1am - Last Entry 6pm
PLUS MORE ARTISTS TO BE ANNOUNCED
PART 1
KELLY LEE OWENS • WORKING MEN'S CLUB
STEALING SHEEP • TEA STREET BAND
SATURDAY 14TH AUGUST 2021
PART 2
THE BIG MOON • THE ORIELLES • BLACK HONEY • SELF ESTEEM
FULL LINE UP ANNOUNCEMENT 6PM MONDAY 24TH MAY
FULL VENUE EVENTS • MAIN ROOM & SUBSTATION LIVE STAGES
DJ SETS IN THE GARDEN
ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS
Limited Early Bird Tickets £15 Advance On Sale 9am Wednesday 19th May
Full Price Tickets £25 Advance On Sale 9am Friday 21st May via Seetickets.com
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FEATURES
REGULARS
13 / PODGE
Niloo Sharifi delves deep into the open source identity
that gives the artist’s music such soaring liberation.
18 / THE CORAL
On their 10th album, The Coral have never sounded so
timeless – quite literally.
24 / CRAWLERS
Riotous, emotive and informing, Daniel Ponzini steps
into the high-octane world of the four-piece.
26 / LIKE THE FIRST TIME
Elliot Ryder reports back from the first non-socially
distanced live music events to take place in the UK
since March 2020.
30 / MAKING WAVES
Adam Noor highlights the work of LIMF Academy
and The Noise Project who came together to help
musicians through lockdown.
32 / STATE OF THE
STUDIOS, STATE
OF THE CITY
A new report suggests Liverpool is at risk of losing
a large proportion of its artist studios. El Gray looks
at the possible ramifications.
34 / RON’S PLACE
Uncovering the joyous oddities in the home of one
of Wirral’s most prolific outsider artists.
10 / NEWS
Rounding up goings-on and developments as
the city takes a big step towards the ending of
lockdown.
12 / HOT PINK
A sun-fuelled batch of tunes featuring
Hushtones, Jazmine Johnson, DSM IV, Ostrich
and Georgie Weston.
36 / SPOTLIGHTS
Profiles of fast rising artists including Seagoth,
Kokiri, Mondo Trasho, San Pedro Vision, Henry
Jones and A Lesser Version.
40 / PREVIEWS
Katy J Pearson talks songwriting liberation
ahead of a stop in Widnes while Abandon
Normal Devices is set to sail art right across the
Mersey.
44 / REVIEWS
Reports from Liverpool Biennial and
Independents Biennial.
54 / ARTISTIC LICENCE
Featuring a poem from last issue’s spotlight
artist Felix Mufti-Wright.
55 / FINAL SAY
Tilly Foulkes outlines the strength of fan power
as live music makes its long-awaited return.

E D I T O R I A L
Proximity has been a defining factor of the last year and a half. It’s
been the measurement by which so much of our lives have been
dictated.
In the physical sense, it is where most of us will have
experienced the most telling change. The required distance and separation
from one another has been a necessary but peculiar sensation that’s
contracted and loosened over the course of the pandemic. It’s in this sense
where a new appreciation of physical proximity has kept the large majority
safe. Equally, it has drawn us into a lonesome cold.
Not only has an emphasis on proximity dictated our physical existence,
it has been the underlying essence of our hopes, expectations and
challenges. Just how close or far can anything be at one time? When the
first lockdown arrived, many thoughts turned to how far off in the future a
return to normality would be. News reports would elude to how close we
were to developing a vaccine. When things took a turn for the worst for
the third time, we were forced to consider how much further away ideas of
progress now were.
Before now, proximity has been a relative physical and conceptual
sensation. But in many ways, the pandemic has unified personal sensations
of distance and closeness. In having a unified goal of beating Covid-19,
we’ve all reached out together in hope and been jerked back in unison
through the darkest moments.
This sense of things being in touching distance or pushed further
away by setbacks have dictated so many mental states since March 2020.
Even in my so-called distraction from the toughest parts of the pandemic,
Liverpool FC has sought to show just how far away they are from their
former selves – just how close they are to potentially making the best out of
a dire situation.
There’s been a continual ebb and flow to so much of the last year, a
concertina of positives and negatives that have never allowed us to settle.
It’s been a sensation all the more cruel and tantalising as music has had to
wait at the back of the line before granted its return. Always so close, but
seemingly so far.
In a more conceptual sense, just how close to something can
we actually be? How close can we be to a music scene, to an idea, a
subculture, a movement? And how much of this relies on tangibility and
shared physical space? The early stages of lockdown suggested physicality
wasn’t a defining factor
in how close we can be to
something or someone.
Many will have felt closer
to the city, to certain
communities, as physical
separation injected an
impetus to connect and
be part of something – in
whatever way possible. But
come the final stretches of
a long and arduous third
lockdown, the belief that
we can remain close to
ourselves and what we
stand for while being kept
apart is frayed from fatigue. And so once again proximity comes to the fore
with the promise of an end coming closer into sight.
So many of the stories in this issue display different appreciations
of proximity. As Niloo Sharifi learns from Podge, making music is less
about moving closer to an end goal and more an expression within a
defined, immovable space purely of its moment. For The Coral, Cath
Holland uncovers how Coral Island is a display of distant dreams with the
potential to draw them closer through nostalgia and imagination. In a more
direct sense, El Gray outlines just how close Liverpool is to losing a large
proportion of its artist studios – those which form the foundations of the
city’s visual cultural offer. In my own report from Liverpool’s hosting of
aspects of the events research programme, we see a roadmap to normality
growing ever shorter. Perhaps most importantly, we see people shedding
the barriers of social distancing to re-establish a joyous close proximity
with one another and live music. Even looking at the news and previews
sections, you can sense there really isn’t that far to go before things are
well and truly better.
Proximity has changed so much of what we feel and think over the
course of the last 15 months. Everything now seems so much closer. An
end, in whatever form it arrives in, is coming into sight. !
Elliot Ryder / @elliot_ryder
Editor
“Just how close
to something can
we actually be; a
music scene, to an
idea, a subculture,
a movement?”
New Music + Creative Culture
Liverpool
Issue 114 / June 2021
bidolito.co.uk | @bidolito
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Cover Photography
Robin Clewley
Words
Elliot Ryder, Sam Turner, Matthew Berks, El Gray,
Shannon Garner, Ed Haslam, Niloo Sharifi, Cath
Holland, Daniel Ponzini, Adam Noor, Matthew
Hogarth, Lily Blakeney-Edwards, Emma Varley, Jo
Mary Watson, Felix Mufti-Wright, Tilly Foulkes.
Photography, Illustration and Layout
Mark McKellier, Robin Clewley, John Johnson,
Michael Driffill, Matthew Berks, John O’Loughlin,
Seren Carys, Rob Battersby, Mark McNulty.
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NEWS
BIDO LITO! SOCIAL
The Bido Lito! Social is back! Our
regular gig celebrating new drops of the
magazine returns in July, starting a run
of bi-monthly shows going through to
the end of the year. The inaugural gig
is a special co-promotion with Future
Yard as we bring dark dreampop duo
WHITE FLOWERS to the Birkenhead
venue. The gig is part of Future Yard’s
FUTURE NOW series of events leading
up to their bank holiday weekender in
August. Support on the night comes
from the brilliant MONKS and rising
stars A LESSER VERSION. IAMKYAMI
and SPQR are announced as headliners
for the September and December
Socials respectively. The Social is an
opportunity for readers, contributors,
artists and friends of the magazine to
get together to watch the best new
talent we profile in these pages.
bidolito.co.uk
Monks
BIDO LITO! DIGITAL CONTENT CREATORS
Allocated to organisations around the country, charity Youth Music’s Incubator Fund is
designed to bring young people from underrepresented groups into the music industry. Bido
Lito! is currently on the lookout for two Digital Content Creators funded by the initiative. The
six-month placement will see two young people help bring the stories, people and projects of
the pink pages to life for the digital realm via film, audio and/or animation. Applications are now
being accepted from 16 to 24-year-olds who have a passion for Liverpool music and expertise
in multimedia production of any kind.
bidolito.co.uk
LIVE LAAF LOVE
The climate emergency is here, and its implications are being disproportionately
felt across the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region. Returning on 16th
July and running until 14th November, the 23rd Liverpool Arab Arts Festival
(LAAF) will involve an artist-led response to the humanitarian crisis that is set to
eclipse the Covid-19 pandemic. Taking place across the four full months for the
first time, the festival programme will question and reimagine our future direction,
asking: what can we learn from those stepping up to the climate crisis, and how
can we collectively do more?
arabartsfestival.com
COMMUNITY CINEMA
After a year of mostly being indoors, Liverpool 8 charity The Florrie is hoping to
create an outdoor cinema in its new community garden. Helping with isolation
and loneliness, the outdoor cinema will be full of experiences to positively
impact physical and mental wellbeing. From socialising and taking part in fun
activities, to picnicking and doing something outdoors, the concept of improving
interaction within their new garden allows young and old to share a mutual love
of film. The Florrie is looking to crowdfund the new initiative with a target of
£16k to be reached by 19th July. Dig deep if you can.
spacehive.com/community-garden-cinema
MIF BUSTERS
Across the M62 an impressive roster of artists from around the world are
partaking in this year’s Manchester International Festival. PATTI SMITH, ARLO
PARKS and CILLIAN MURPHY are among the names featured on a programme
which takes place in real life as well as online as we continue to transition
back to normality. MIF’s future home, The Factory, will host many events, with
others taking place across Greater Manchester. For the first time, the curation
of the festival has been handed over to local people to offer a snapshot of these
unprecedented times. Other names on the bill include LEMN SISSAY, AKRAM
KHAN and AARON and BRYCE DESSNER of The National.
Patti Smith
mif.co.uk
10

The Orielles - Photo: Rebekah Knox
YOU TELL ME IT’S EVOL-UTION
Following the first of the IRL festival trilogy selling out, promoters EVOL have announced
details of two further shows featuring some of the finest names in new music around.
FestEvol at the Invisible Wind Factory hosts KELLY LEE OWENS and WORKING MENS
CLUB on 7th August and then THE BIG MOON and THE ORIELLES on the 14th August.
The two all-dayers follow a date in June showcasing local talent at Future Yard. Also on
the line-ups for the north docklands gigs are STEALING SHEEP, TEA STREET BAND,
BLACK HONEY and SELF ESTEEM.
facebook.com/clubevol
SUMMER ARTS MARKET
Since the pandemic, supporting local creatives has never been more
important. Luckily, the popular Summer Arts Market – where you can find
stalls from over 50 independent artists, designers and makers – is back.
Located in the magnificent Liverpool Cathedral on 5th and 19th June,
each event will feature new stalls. While browsing the wide selection of
creative crafts, gifts, artworks and artisanal foods, you can also enjoy a
drink or snack at the café in The Well space. The event will be socially
distanced with limited tickets available.
summerartsmarket.com
ART ACROSS THE MERSEY
Following a staggered start battling uncertainty, MERSEY ARTS ZONE (MAZ) burst
open in May to offer “a creative space for artists, photographers, makers, designers,
everyone!”. This is how director Dawn Reck encapsulates her vision for MAZ, a new
community arts space in New Brighton. An inclusive and participatory space, MAZ
will run workshops for the local community and offer an accessible space for local
artists to exhibit their work. A photography exhibition displaying work from awardwinning
wildlife photographers Richard Steel and Steve Ward will run for the first
month, guaranteeing that MAZ will be off to a flying start.
facebook.com/merseyartszone
WRITERS DIRECTORY
Calling all Liverpool City Region-based writers, Culture Liverpool wants you! As
part of Liverpool’s 2021 Year of Writing, Liverpool City Council’s culture arm is
launching a Writers Directory, compiling details of local freelance writers and
their services (workshops, mentoring, readings) for schools, colleges, universities,
agents and publishers to access. Embracing the transformative power of writing,
the Year of Writing brings together arts and cultural organisations, writers, artists,
educators and businesses to improve Liverpool’s literacy. An inclusive literary
celebration, the Year of Writing is designed to discover new voices, publish new
writing and inspire imagination and creativity across the city.
cultureliverpool.co.uk/writers-directory
OPEN SAE-SAME
For the first time since the beginning of 2020, SAE Institute is opening its
doors for prospective students to experience the world-class facilities in
real life. The Pall Mall creative media hub is hosting an open event on 26th
June and is now taking bookings. The next intake for students is September
when creatives can embark on courses on audio production, music
business, animation, games, animation and film. At the event visitors will
have the opportunity to meet the staff and students, learn about the career
opportunities connected with the courses on offer and take in production
demonstrations.
sae.edu/gbr
NEWS 11

HOT PINK!
Words: El Gray, Shannon Garner, Ed Haslam,
Matthew Berks.
Follow Hot Pink! on Spotify: bit.ly/bidohotpink
We’re soundtracking our eagerly awaited June skies with an all-you-can-eat entrée of dancepunk,
electronica and psych-pop courtesy of our weekly-updated Hot Pink! playlist. We may be
allowed indoors, but these tunes have us pining for that vitamin D.
The DSM IV
Scumbag
The current prognosis for dance-punk trio THE DSM IV is looking extremely positive
with the release of Scumbag, an urgent and engaging track which juxtaposes
disturbing lyrics with a compulsion to dance. Guy McKnight’s resonant vocals
reverberate across the track as he lyrically explores the interplay of power and desire
and its perverted consequences. This is underpinned by Jumanji-style drums and an
insistent synth, creating a disorientating and compelling 80s-inspired anthem. EG
Workstuff
Hold On 2
The more melancholic flipside to WORKSTUFF’s single, Mannequins, it’s no wonder
Hold On 2 can be found on Spotify’s Doomer Tapes playlist, sharing the bill with
Molchat Doma and Joy Division. But its spot here is deserving. With a repeating melody
of haunting bells uttering throughout, the four-minute track – mastered at Liverpool’s
What Studios – is soon submerged by an irresistibly monotonous baritone and a
whooping synth drone pulsing its way through to the exit. MB
Vice Möth and Pretentious Dross
Ghost Dance
It’s difficult to not get nostalgic to VICE MÖTH AND PRETENTIOUS DROSS’ track. The
synthy 80s groove puts a new spin on two iconic hits – Kylie Minogue’s Slow and The
Human League’s Being Boiled. The cornucopia of magical twists in Ghost Dance are
unexpected for sure, yet something you will never want to end. SG
Jazmine Johnson
If I Ever
Groovy, soulful and electric, JAZMINE JOHNSON’s latest single is laced with funky
R&B beats and fused with extremely raw lyrics. Effortlessly written, If I Ever cruises
through the regrets of opening up to somebody. The track commands to be listened to,
especially in the breakdown towards the end where the vocals shine through. SG
Hushtones
I’ve Got Time
HUSHTONES’ sunshine psych-pop guitars and effortless melodic sensibilities combine
to create a highly repeatable indie-pop record in I’ve Got Time. The vocals are as
sweet as honey and float upon cloudlike riffs and punchy retro drums. The gorgeous
production accommodates this sonic landscape wonderfully, lending the charming little
tune the warmth it deserves. EH
Pizzagirl
Bullet Train
PIZZAGIRL continues to shine. The high-octane banger oozes technicolour electronic
beats and showcases an array of chugging synth basslines under a rousingly anthem
hook. Despite being an up-tempo track, Bullet Train is ironically downbeat as the
protagonist eclipses the bitter parts of a nasty break-up. It’s a larger-than-life track,
taking charge of its story through the 90s industrial synth-pop escapism sounds. SG
Georgie Weston
Going Far Away (This Time)
For the fourth entry in his streak of introspective soft-rock mini-epics, the hopeless
romantic GEORGIE WESTON once again uses analogue-minded ambition to reject the
limitations of a cramped bedroom studio, proving the vast sonic possibilities of lockdown
pop. Georgie’s rich soundscape of synth, saxophone and punchy bass guitar sparkles
above Philly-soul grooves, while his anecdotal lyricism evokes vintage Macca. EH
Seafoam Green
House On The Hill
A gutsy, rock-solid drum intro leads into a dirty melting pot of down-home Americana,
generous on the Delta blues. SEAFOAM GREEN’S take on rustic blues-rock is delivered
with such sincerity and authenticity that you genuinely can’t tell if they’d be more at
home commandeering a stage at a major UK rock festival, or simply rattling the floors
of a gutbucket Memphis rhythm and blues bar. EH
Ask Elliot
Flowers Of White
ASK ELLIOT are festival-ready with their new jangly track. The dreamy guitar backing
and bouncy bassline are almost Smiths-like, with the lyrics hitting the perfect balance
between invention and cliché. Nevertheless, in evoking the excitement and confusion of
falling for someone, Flowers Of White is a soundtrack for the perfect sunny day. SG
Ostrich
48 Hours
Like stepping into a record shop and browsing its many categories, we are first treated
to a surprisingly effective marriage of Americana vocals to a wonky synthesizer
accompaniment. The latter lends a touch of electro-pop to otherwise War On Drugsesque
rock as the song evolves, with the chorus followed by yacht-rock sax and
indie-dance piano. It’s an eccentric mish-mash of quite disparate genres, but such
bold experimentation is refreshing, and the result is a soothing record that evokes a
cinematic montage of breezy heartland panoramas. EH
Photography from left to right: Workstuff, Jazmine Johnson, Hushtones
12

LIFE IS FUN
Podge has always refused to coalesce around conformity.
Niloo Sharifi delves deep into the open source identity
that gives the artist’s music such soaring liberation.
FEATURE
13

14
PODGE

“Everyone has
the capability
to make art”
It’s easy to forget that life is supposed to be fun.
Music is a good way to remember. PODGE went
about becoming a musician all backwards. “Before
I considered myself good enough at guitar to start
writing music, I was thinking what wacky shit I would
do if I was having a TV interview,” they begin. “The
reason I started [making music was for] the results that
come from it – it kind of gets all the wires crossed. As I
tried to get better at music, I learned that perspective is
counterproductive. I feel like I started off making music for
kind of selfish reasons, I was just trying to impress people.
Then I fell in love with it. It’s like starting a job because you
want to make money and then falling in love with the job
over the years after you learn what it actually is.”
It’s hard to imagine Podge as a self-conscious
teen suffering under the yoke of elitism. Their new EP,
Samuso, released via NTS, feels joyful, light and casually
personal. It sounds like it was made by a heartbroken
robot living at the end of time, who misses humans, so
makes music to commemorate the living; scanning what’s
left of the internet for cultural ephemera still in orbit –
samples and feelings.
Podge joins a growing contingent of magpie
producers who don’t mind whether something’s
expensive as long as it’s shiny; they’ll take anything from
anywhere, choosing to ignore the confines of genre
and intellectual property. “It’s weird that people are still
against samples. It just feels weird to take ownership of
stuff. I feel really weird about trying to make a living off
music,” they say. “I’m pro pirating – I don’t know whether
that’s just the internet mindset, but it feels weird to stop
people from wanting to enjoy your art just ’cos they don’t
wanna spend the money.”
The genre-bending this cutpurse attitude results in
does away with old hierarchies that draw a line between
the significant and the trivial. Samuso features Podge
singing catchy hooks, rapping, sampling all manner of
things – Auto-Tuned voice notes; anime. Sugary synths,
bleeps and bloops weave among acoustic and distorted
guitars. So many influences thread themselves through
the songs that it’s hardly worth getting into it. You just
need to hear it. “You wouldn’t need to make the art if
you could describe it in the first place,” they say. “It feels
pointless making stuff that’s already been done, just ’cos,
well, it’s already been done.”
Pursuing the crooked, less-travelled road has its
own challenges; the context of a commercial industry
rewards what is quickly recognisable and easily summed
up. “It’s hard to develop that kind of confidence when
you’re doing something that you can’t draw parallels with
what other people are doing,” they begin. “There’s not
many people I can look at and think, ‘That guy’s doing
it, so I could do it’, but when I do find people like that,
I really latch onto them.” They are wearing a 100 gecs
hoodie when we meet in the park today, a band who are
a definite example of those who’re ‘doing it’ in a guise
Podge is interested by. “Last year I was obsessed with
JPEGMAFIA and Vegyn because they seem like they’re in
FEATURE
15

16

their own lanes and they’re not following a formula, not
just stylistically, but the way they navigate the industry,”
they add.
The diffuse pull of hybridity draws those attracted
to it into a protracted search for a life that expresses a
reality belonging only to you, unbound by location. “I
don’t identify with where I came from at all, maybe to
some extent my ethnicity. But my nationality, it seems
weird identifying with where you’re from ’cos you didn’t
have much control of it,” says Podge. “When you’ve got
the internet and you can pick and choose from so many
places in the world, it seems odd to make something you
have no control of your identity.”
With everything online, a purely localised sense
of self starts to feel like a relic of an obsolete past, like
internet dial-up. It’s hard not to find yourself immersed
in a bigger picture than your immediate environment. It’s
given Podge a certain overview. “It’s like nothing you’ve
ever done is just you, even you being born someone else’s
work’s gone into it,” they respond. “If anything, you’re the
smallest part in it. It feels like most things you do you are
flicking the domino and someone’s already set up all the
dominoes to fall and make a pattern. So, it’s weird to be
so attached to it. If it wasn’t for other people passing on
the information you wouldn’t be able to do it ever.”
Practicalities sometimes get in the way of this type
of common sense. Artists have always had to get past
some type of dragon, be it a patron or an industry.
They always have to live in the distance between their
dreams and mundane reality’s unalterable demands.
The reasoning of a money world that prizes victory and
possession infects everything – even what starts as
playtime, something frivolous and in-the-moment. Art
can start to feel like something you own in the same way
you might own a plot of land. “When you take a step in
the street you don’t look back on the path and think, ‘I
was that step’,” says Podge, “but if I make an EP it’s hard
not to think of it like a part of me. Like, obviously I’ve put
effort into it, but, in the end, I’m not the thing I made.”
There’s less ego at stake with every failure when
you look at it like that. It becomes less about coming up
with something that proves how great you are and more
about letting something pass into the world through
you. “Lots of people view it like they’re the person
driving the car down the road and pushing the pedals,
but it’s more like you’re the road,” they explain. “If the
car’s not going down the road right, it might just be ’cos
the car’s not as fast, but it could also be that the road is
all beat up and it’s hard for the car to go down it.” If the
artist is the road, then getting better at art is more about
bearing the weight of it patiently, pressing yourself flat
so it can go along you smoothly – rather than zooming
around all the time, all wheels and metal.
It’s a more relaxing perspective and, for Podge,
learning how to relax helped them get there. “When I
started doing meditation and stuff like that, it’s weird
how much it improved my art, not in the sense that it
made me a better technical person, but it allowed me
to tap into those less thought-about parts of yourself.”
Getting somewhere by turning away from it doesn’t
sound like it would work. “I used to think that meditation
doesn’t do anything because you’re not really doing
anything. I thought, ‘I’ll try this for two months’, but
those two months were just putting trust in it, and with
music it’s kind of that in the long-term scale.”
Enclosed within systems obsessed with zero-sum
games, where one person’s win is another person’s loss,
it feels like it makes sense to obsess about achievement
and self-flagellate when we don’t succeed in reaching
the top of the hill we’re desperately running at. But it’s
not the only way to go about things. “I’ve heard that
since I was a kid,” they reply, “not to think about the
results and the fruits of your labour will grow on their
own. But it’s so hard to see it that way until you’re
backed into a corner and you’ve got no other way of
looking at it.”
Podge’s journey, which started with a desire to
objectively succeed has revealed something unexpected,
something weird and paradoxical at play that only
reveals itself once you realise trying only gets you so far.
“Don’t try just wait for what’s next/Don’t stress you’re
probably next”, Podge tells us on Get_Up_Again.
A more casual approach makes for a more constant
flow and chill vibes. You can find Podge on Instagram
letting you in on the process: making beats live, posting
micro-tutorials and sampling bird noises in the forest
with their OP-1. When you’re focused on the material
outcome of the work, making mistakes feels like
evidence that nothing will ever come of it;
it’s helped Podge to realise that failure and
continuous graft is part of the process. “No
one ever said that making good art was
easy. It’s just unhealthy the way that
people portray artists a lot of the time,”
they say. “You could find hundreds of
hours of Jimi Hendrix playing guitar
really good, but I don’t think I could
find footage of Jimi Hendrix in the
studio trying to redo a take, like, 10
times in a row, which he obviously
did, everyone does that.” The internet
has helped to demystify the figure of
the artist, dissolving the untouchable
halo that creates a hierarchy of
creatives and non-creatives. “It seems
like everyone has the capability to make
art,” Podge tells me.
And by the same token, sometimes
artists struggle to make art, and that’s just
part of it. “I always viewed the enlightened
artist as someone who can make good music
whenever they want, but it’s
more like someone who
can understand
that they don’t
have any
control
over
whether they
make anything
good or not. That’s why I
really envied people who started
it out of a love for music, ’cos they’re doing it for fun.”
The future has a way of beckoning with strange hands
– Podge might have started with backwards ideas,
focused on the outward results, but that’s not where
they ended up.
It’s so hard to remember that life is supposed to
be fun, but music makes it easier, even if it’s pointless.
Without the self-imposed pressure of impressing other
people or reaching a certain summit, it’s hard for them
to even articulate the end goal. “I always think, ‘Would I
make music if I was stranded on a different planet, and
there was no chance of anyone else finding the stuff that
I made?’ I think maybe I would,” Podge explains. “I don’t
think I’ll ever properly know why I do it, but I think the
reason for it is probably because I can’t explain it.” !
Words: Niloo Sharifi
Photography: Robin Clewley / robinclewley.co.uk
Samuso is available now via NTS.
“I’m not the
thing I made”
FEATURE
17

18

THE
CORAL
On their 10th album, The Coral have never sounded so timeless – quite literally –
as they bottle the spectres from a world of sticky clock hands and fading lights.
In one regard, the new album by THE CORAL is very
much them all over. Shiny toe-tappers threaded with
the more complex. The familiar Liverpool scally pop
and Welsh psychedelic hybrid bonds are ever true.
But with Coral Island we see further ambition not merely
as a masterclass in musical and creative world-building,
but in real terms. James Skelly sets out his targets
humbly but with good humour during the second time
we speak. “If you can break back into the top 10 in the
UK charts on your 10th album – a concept album about a
mythical seaside town with your grandad in it – it will be
our biggest achievement since we got our number one.”
He chuckles as he speaks, but it’s an accurate analysis
of both album and scenario. Second album Magic And
Medicine hit the top of the album chart back in 2003 and
18 years is a long time in rock ’n’ roll.
Coral Island waltzes us into a magical place of
unspoken questions, reflecting on the
faded glamour and unsettling nature
of the fairground, the sounds, motion
and people encountered. The album
and accompanying book Over Coral
Island, the latter written by keyboard
player Nick Power, recalls the band’s
childhood summer trips across Wales
and the North West. Wirral’s very
own seaside town, New Brighton,
feels the ideal place to meet James
and Nick to talk about their hopes
for the record. We rendezvous on a
stretch of flat grey concrete yards
from the seafront. Paper cups of tea
and coffee in the open air is quite the
thing now, but undeniably it has an
echo of bygone times and black and
white photographs in family albums.
Any artist’s 10th long-player is a milestone, we
each agree, although the two men seem uneasy at
being described as indie veterans, a term popping
up in reviews with frequency. This point in time feels
significant, not make-or-break exactly, but optimism in
our conversation is offset by frustrations at the music
industry, and personal regrets.
The first section of the album, a soundtrack to the
rides and arcades of summer fairground childhoods, is
bathed in a brittle sunshine not unlike that in which we
squint at each other on this Tuesday morning. Part one
encompasses an idealistic memory, one maybe never
really lived at all, James and Nick tell me. The sadness
of nostalgia and a time gone by start to sink in further
as the record progresses, and we are introduced to the
curious characters living in society’s shadows.
After an hour of talking, we go our separate ways;
James and Nick to carry on with further promotion.
This album is grabbing more attention from journalists
than anything they’ve done for a while. During our
conversation we’d talked about the role post-Elvis,
pre-Beatles rock ’n’ roll and pop played in Coral Island’s
formation. A strange yet fruitful few years of death
ballads and vengeful love songs, giving a voice to the
deep emotional intensity of the emerging teenage
experience and identity. Coral Island’s songs are short,
in keeping with pop conventions of that period. And
what an absolute pleasure it is to hear and feel the
influence of eternal broken-hearted outcast on the run
Del Shannon. This led to playing some of his records at
home afterwards and unearthing a memory of riding the
Waltzer in Southport with his classic Runaway ringing
in ears.
Within days, all the audio from our interview has
vanished, so we find ourselves having to talk again
two weeks
later, a surreal
experience
in itself. Nick
“Coral Island was
more this strange
place just floating in
the sea of your mind.
Almost a metaphor
for your imagination”
is the first to
retrace his
steps. It seems
appropriate
to share the
Del Shannon
in Southport
theory.
“I think
they’re still
playing it now!
You have to play
pre-Beatles rock
’n’ roll spooky
death ditties
with a little bit of Pink Floyd thrown in, and The Doors
every now and then, some 80s, but go back to Gene
Vincent and Wanda Jackson. It’s brilliant!” Nick laughs. “I
think it’s an unwritten code fairgrounds stick to.”
Why does he think that is?
“They’re marginalised places, aren’t they?
Totally off the map, never written about any more in
mainstream culture. It’s outsider music. That’s what we
tried to get across, another world in the real world. An
unreality in reality.”
Nick talks about The Dips in New Brighton, the green
space used by families, and for performance or anti-social
behavior depending on what time of day or year. How the
fair sets up there, a sudden pop-up town. In the eve it’s
kite-flying and dog walkers, the next morn dodgems blast
out Roy Orbison and The Shangri-Las’ drama.
“You might see a poster in a few closed down shops
or chippys,” he says of the fair. “How did they get in?
FEATURE
How did that poster get in there? That shop hasn’t been
open for years. Then you’ll see it – bang – and the next
night it’s gone. Magic.”
Coral Island morphed into a double album as the
band worked on it, he explains, expanded by James
and Ian Skelly’s grandfather Ian Murray in the character
of The Great Muriarty narrating between songs. It’s
difficult to recall many contemporary double albums in
the independent music arena, so Coral Island is either an
anomaly, or maybe we simply make more space and time
for things now. The album does play around with past
and present and it’s true that, when we’re kids, summer
holidays last forever, while cold hard adult reality
confirms a fixed six-week length.
“There’s a bit in the book about that, your experience
of time, it massively changes as you get older,” says Nick.
“Small things when you’re a kid seem mind-blowing.
You’re in the present, totally rooted in the now. When
you get older you live in the past or future a bit more,
memories or anticipating.”
Nailing down radio-friendly singles Faceless Angel,
Lover Undiscovered, and Vacancy gave licence to sail
into deeper, darker waters. Coral Island was created
with a 1960s approach, writing and recording quickly
while everything was still fresh. “This album was kinda
like, let’s go for broke. Make something which the record
company might advise against! If we can get the money
for it, let’s just do what we want,” Nick explains.
There is a strong narrative present, not only due
to the spoken word, but noticeably so within the
songwriting itself. The listener, and presumably the
creators, go on a journey along with it?
“It goes back to folk tales and things like that, or
murder ballads or weird character studies. I love songs
that tell a story, a lot of the ones we drew from for this
album are like that, tell a story – mostly about people
dying,” Nick laughs. “But as you said last time, it was
early goth!”
“There’s a lot in there, we very rarely just tell a
straight story,” James Skelly explains, when we pick
things up. He resists temptation to write literally, leaving
enough suggestion for people to project their own
stories. “The version in your head is always going to be
better because you’ve made it for you.”
The Great Muriarty, then, could be the ringmaster
of the big top, or delivering Roald Dahl’s quite terrifying
scenarios in the old Tales Of The Unexpected series.
Sinister and not ghostlike exactly, but from behind an
invisible veil.
“That doesn’t exist anymore, the world he’s
from, that generation,” says James of his story-teller
grandfather who took him camping as a boy – these
memories feeding into the record. “So, he’s actually, in
a way, a time traveller. Like he’s going back to an older
19

time. Even his voice, people don’t have that accent
anymore. It’s a piece of time delivered to people.”
The mechanics of the fairground seeped in
the very production of Coral Island, the gear itself
mimicking sounds and the oddness of a temporary,
rootless community. It took a lot of graft to make it
sound “wrong”, as James puts it.
“To move something out of time so it would be
not correct, or not in time. Or if the tape is broken
and everything is moving at different times, it
almost sounds as if you’re playing a music box with
the batteries running out. If you go to those places,
the seaside or a fair, and they turn the machines
on they don’t just come on like they would if it
was digital. It’s like coming to life. It’s not a digital
moment. It’s real, the way the wind is real. Like a
broken fairground ride.”
So. Coral Island, the place itself. Does the band
have an image of what it is, an idea of where it is
located? Cardiff-based Edwin Burdis created a
sizeable walk-in sculpture of the island, seen on
the album artwork, but that is Burdis’ vision alone.
Is Coral Island the band’s very own Coney Island
but based locally? An actual familiar seaside place
from all our childhoods: Blackpool, New Brighton,
Llandudno, Rhyl?
“I’ve always found it a place where I can relax,
and I can’t always relax in some places. It’s a holiday
from life, you come back to it,” James says of his
Welsh holidays as adult and child, but his personal
vision of the island takes him to more surreal
territory, melting together 1960s sci-fi thriller and
high-concept psychological drama The Prisoner,
and folk horror movie The Wicker Man. With
elements of Lost, maybe.
“Like a series I wanted to see. It was more this
strange place just floating in the sea of your mind.
Almost a metaphor for your imagination. That’s
what it was to me. Probably be something else to
someone else. It can be what it is to you. That’s
what it is. Half the time I don’t want to know what
the person’s vision is in my head. My version would
be better to me.”
We’ve seen independent artists with a proven
fanbase triumph in the album chart over the
past few months – Jane Weaver went top 25,
The Anchoress top 40, The Coral’s Modern Sky
labelmate Jamie Webster at number six late last
summer – which is doubly impressive given the
zero opportunity to engage with audiences in the
traditional sense. In the end, Coral Island surpasses
James Skelly’s expectations easily, reaching number
two. It feels timely to recall how the record’s single
from March, Lover Undiscovered, reminds us of how
as adults we view the world through cynical weary
eyes.
“One day you’ll see a seagull fly above the sea
and it’s almost like CGI and think, have I manifested
this? How is this happening? How has it gone from
being nothing to just gas, or whatever it was when
the big bang happened, to that? It’s a discovered
moment again,” he told me.
Maybe the message got through, via the
airwaves. Through Spotify, and those vinyl copies of
the album in every colour of the rainbow. How we
take things for granted, take creatives for granted.
Whatever it is, the mystical Coral Island is doing its
magic for the band, both on the record and off it.
The Coral Rediscovered, indeed. !
Words: Cath Holland / @cathholland01
Photography: John Johnson / @john.johno
Coral Island is available now via Run On Records in
association with Modern Sky.
thecoral.co.uk
20

FEATURE
21

17 July 2–4 July
9 July
HOME
COMING
Produced by Manchester International Festival in partnership with Homecoming.
ALL OF
THIS
UNREAL
TIME
Aaron Dessner, Bryce Dessner & Jon Hopkins Composers
Aoife McArdle Film Director, Cillian Murphy Actor
Max Porter Writer
Commissioned and produced by Manchester International Festival.
ARLO
PARKS
Produced by Manchester International Festival. Image: Alex Waespi
10–11 July
1–18 July
7–18 July
ARCADIA
Conceived & created
by Deborah Warner
A Pre-Factory Event. Commissioned by Manchester International Festival and
Stanford Live at Stanford University. Produced by Manchester International Festival.
MARTA
MINUJÍN
Big Ben Lying Down
with Political Books
Commissioned and produced by Manchester International Festival.
Image: Mario Cherrutti and Marta Minujín Archive
NOTES
ON
GRIEF
A new stage production, based on the
essay by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
Commissioned and produced by Manchester International Festival.
Image: Manny Jefferson
1–18 July Conceived
and created
by Cephas
Williams
PORTRAIT
OF
BLACK
BRITAIN
Commissioned by Manchester International Festival. Produced by Manchester
International Festival and The Cephas Williams Company. Image: Sam Shaw
2–18 July
LAURE
PROUVOST
The Long Waited,
Weighted, Gathering
Commissioned by Manchester International Festival and Manchester Jewish
Museum. Produced by Manchester Jewish Museum. Image: Lee Baxter
A
FESTIVAL
LIKE NO
OTHER
‘A Festival for the creatively
courageous’ – BBC
First release of tickets available
from 20 May at mif.co.uk

Riotous, emotive and informing, Daniel Ponzini steps into the explosive world of the four-piece.
“[Statues] is really fresh and really new – I don’t
think anyone is writing music like that right now,”
explains Holly Minto. It’s hard to disagree with
her when you experience the passion in her vocal
delivery on the track. The assemblage of sounds behind
her resemble The Clash at their angriest or the Sex
Pistols at their most enraged.
The landmark single belongs to self-branded “North
West misfits” CRAWLERS, a four-piece alternative rock
band consisting of Minto (vocalist), Amy Woodall (lead
guitar), Harry Breen (drums) and Liv Kettle (bass). Only
released in March, the song has amassed well over
75,000 plays on Spotify and sits comfortably with a
discography bearing the hallmarks of a band very much
on an upward trajectory.
Previous releases Hush and So Tired have reinforced
Crawlers’ assertion that rock ’n’ roll is still alive and
24
kicking. So far, they have displayed an ability to career
into a chorus like a Midwestern emo band from the early
2000s – Modern Baseball-esque – and navigate verses
with a lyrical nous far beyond the blueprint of a regular
rock outfit.
In keeping with the theme of lyricism, you would
think that the barrage of instruments on their latest effort
would obfuscate any meaningful message Minto tries
to convey, but their poised sensibility in these moments
of madness creates a feeling akin to watching a sunrise
across a clear-skied day. Her fierce image – curly red hair,
pronounced lipstick, strong eyeshadow – is enough to
make a boomer gasp. But don’t be confused by how this
band masks sentimentality in the way they look. They
may hold onto moments of careful lyricism and chord
progressions by a thread, but they manage to achieve a
poetic flair and elegance in the way they contrast love
and loss through light and dark chord progressions, and
happy and sad drum patterns. The contrast is captivating.
Holly explains that the sense of urgency and
exasperation that bleeds into Crawlers’ sound is born
from the frustration of the last 12 months. “We had to
become an online band,” she admits. While not being
unable to tour (obviously) or work together in a closeknit
environment had the potential to halt the band’s
momentum, they refused to let it tamper with their
progress, and instead found innovative ways to continue
creating. “It depended on what part of lockdown we
were in,” Minto says, referencing countless phonecalls
and messages about song ideas. The only constant
factor in this confusing scenario was the drive to create
more and more.
Since they started releasing music in 2019, Crawlers
have collected fans from every corner of the country;

a fanbase that is willing to hang on every word Minto
expels. But their new EP marks a shift. “All of the songs
are newly written,” Minto explains, and are littered with
the political topics that defined
socially-charged lockdowns in 2020.
Minto explains how “it’s a multiperson
process” that drives the
band’s creativity, both musically and
visually. The cover art for Statues
has the Statue of Liberty projected
onto Minto’s face and, speaking
about this creative decision, she
expresses their discontent with the
current socio-political arena. The
symbol of freedom marks itself as
the image on the EP as well as in
the verses. “Writing felt liberating,”
she states, alluding to the thoughtprovoking
lyrics: “The president kills his people, and all
the rooms are filled of all the sleeping people who this
“The music is
a combination
of our
personalities”
country killed” she announces, over a droning guitar riff.
It is obvious that political and societal discourse is a
big part of this band’s image and sound. It is also clear
to see the talent the band possesses
when politicaly loaded lyrics like
those on Statues are coupled with
enchanting melodies that give the
words a more profound meaning and
purpose. If not a rock band, then they
are activists.
“There’s certainly a bit of
Courtney Love in the lyricism,” Minto
adds, citing their influences, while the
rest of the band chip in with artists
like Tool and Smashing Pumpkins.
“The music is a combination of our
personalities,” Minto and the band
explain. Perhaps the ability to draw
on all genres of music allows Crawlers to create a sound
that they see as comfortingly personal.
FEATURE
The band all nod in agreement when Minto suggests
that they have “discovered their sound” on their
forthcoming EP. It is clear to see that it is a body of work
they are all proud of. “It shows all sides of Crawlers,” she
says. Statues itself marks the arrival of a band who are
determined to begin the inauguration of a new era for
rock and alternative music, one that isn’t afraid to include
political commentary in their art.
It is a statement of intent and this band is here to
stay – this is just the beginning of their efforts to make
music that is more engaging, more topical and simply
better. !
Words: Daniel Ponzini
Photography: Michael Driffill / @driffysphotos
Statues and Breathe are available now via Modern Sky.
@crawlersband
25

LIKE THE FIRST TIME
Live music returned to Liverpool after 14 months as part of the government’s Events Research
Programme. Elliot Ryder reports back from the shows taking place at Bramley-Moore Dock and
Sefton Park and considers what it all means for the 21st June reopening.
wild... fucking boss,”
responds ZUZU when asked to describe
playing to a non-socially distanced
“Unbelievable…
crowd for the first time in 14 months.
Sat behind the 4,000-capacity big top tent at Sefton
Park shortly after coming off stage, the magnitude of
the occasion is still yet to sink in for the artist given the
“honour” of opening proceedings. “I haven’t processed
it at all,” she adds. Her face is a mix of happiness and
disbelief when recalling the adoration from the tightlypacked
bodies just a few metres away. “I didn’t realise
how much of an impact live music had on artists’ lives
until we couldn’t do it anymore. That first show back was
beyond amazing. I’m so, so grateful that we got to do it. I
was crying all the way off stage.”
Within earshot, Wigan’s THE LATHUMS pick up
the baton from Zuzu and rumble into their opener.
Later, Stockport’s BLOSSOMS will play to a near-full
capacity tent.
Today’s event forms part of the government’s events
research programme – a series of live events from which
data is being collected and monitored in the hope it will
inform the roadmap to allowing large scale events and
gatherings to return from 21st June.
While restrictions are minimal once inside, the events
feature a core safeguarding measure for those with a
ticket. Everyone on the inside of the festival perimeter
walls has had to provide proof of a negative lateral flow
test in the last 72 hours. Before arriving, they have been
asked to take a PCR test at home, with a second five
days after the event. The process doesn’t appear too
taxing given the reactions of those in attendance. Making
it through the gate, taking off masks and no longer
having to adhere to social distancing brings out arguably
some of the biggest cheers of the day. The big top tent
stands as currently the most liberated bubble in the UK.
Many can’t quite believe their luck.
The 4,000 descending on Sefton Park aren’t the
first crowd of its kind congregating in Liverpool over the
weekend. Two days earlier, local promoters and record
label Circus are the first to stage a non-socially distanced
music event in the UK since the pandemic took hold.
Inside the former warehouse at Bramley-Moore Dock,
the 3,000-strong crowd are the most exciting import
the structure has seen in recent memory. Throughout
the afternoon, they’ll be guided by the selections of
Liverpool’s own LAUREN LO SUNG and YOUSEF, with
international heavyweights JAYDA
G, THE BLESSED MADONNA
and SVEN VÄTH taking to
the decks through the afternoon and evening event.
Being back in a large events space made for close
contact brings with it a palpable euphoria. Many
in attendance take a moment to themselves
to stop and look on at a throbbing mass
of people dancing towards the front of
the crash barrier. The tangible image of
people together legally incites the same
level of internal ecstasy as when Jayda
G hammers out Floorplan’s Never Grow
Old. Groups of friends come together
and pose to have their photo taken with
the backdrop of the crowd akin to a trophy
presentation. It’s a fitting reaction here on
Merseyside, with the 15-month wait feeling
more like the 30-year slog of Liverpool FC
in attempting to be back in one’s rightful
place – front and centre in the heart of
the dance.
26

FEATURE
27

“I’d convinced myself I would be as careful as
possible and still try to social distance, but the lure
of socialising won in the end,” says Ollie Adebsi who
attended the Friday event. “People were smiling and
talking about how lucky we all were to experience this.
It seemed like the drinks, the DJs, the venue, the confetti
were beautiful, but it all was unequivocal to the feeling of
all 3,000 of us being together without pandemic rules for
a few hours.”
The Circus event is a landmark moment for those
behind the decks as well as those partying on the other
side. Videos of an emotional Lauren Lo Sung as she
played the first record of the afternoon show just how
much music and its shared experience means. The hole
it’s left in people’s lives. It’s this feeling that perforates
so much of this evening’s somewhat surreal unification
of body, music and collective thought in a year where so
much has felt splintered and distant.
“From the moment I started to when I finished, I
wanted it to be emotionally charged. I wanted it to be a
release for me as well as the crowd,” says DJ and Circus
co-founder Yousef speaking the week after the back-toback
events at Bramley-Moore. “To be able to reconnect
with strangers and be in the company of others without
having to be told off – it was magical.”
Both the Bramley-Moore events and that at Sefton
Park share many similarities in their sense of making up for
lost time. People arrive early and stay late. Perhaps to soak
it all in. Maybe to hold on to a world of fewer restrictions
for as long as possible. But there’s a clear desire for people
to find themselves as a unified voice once again. Not
beholden to rules of six or police aggression when taking
necessary social action during lockdown.
“I’m excited to see Blossoms later, to be back at a
gig and screaming my heart out to some of my favourite
songs,” says Zuzu. “[Some of the younger people in the
crowd] have never had a chance to do this before. I think
it means a hell of a lot to a lot of people.”
This feeling courses through the expectant crowd
of the big top between sets.
Even the guitar tech receives a
roaring ovation as they come out
to tune up ahead of the bands.
For those behind the scenes in
the music industry, the past 14
months will have been some
of the hardest they’ve faced
in their professional careers.
One gig doesn’t make up for
the damage industry workers
have endured, but perhaps the
crowd’s excitable reaction shows
a new-found respect and value
for those stood to the side of the
stage and working across the festival site. It’s one that’ll
need to continue as gigs come back into full swing.
“The gig was everything I dreamed it could be.
A celebration of music, community and all that we’ve
been missing,” commented Bido Lito! photographer
Gary Lambert in the days after the event. “Nobody was
pretending that the last year hadn’t happened. Instead it
was a party for that moment.”
“I’d say this is the most important show I’ve ever
played,” says Zuzu, still coming down from the rush of
the set. It’s a feeling that’s reflected by Yousef. “My last
gig was to 25,000 people in Mexico City, which was the
best gig I’d done in my life. So, I was happy to have a
few months off – not knowing it was going to be 14.
But this has eclipsed it,” he says. “Not just that it was
an amazing gig, but the difficulty of getting to that
moment, putting that idea to the council, working so
hard to make it happen. It wasn’t just a gig, it was an
accumulation of effort.”
The journey to the two
test events in Liverpool
couldn’t have formed a
“It felt like we did
something that
was significant
for the city”
starker contrast to their
eventual happening. Just five
months prior the city was
battling its third wave of
Covid-19. Caseloads across
the city region pushed above
1,000 per 100,000 and
once again a lockdown was
introduced. It was a difficult
final chapter of a 2020 that
was just starting to offer
glimpses of optimism.
“In December there was a sense of achievement
as Liverpool emerged in Tier 2 after being the pilot city
for community testing,” says Mathew Flynn, lecturer
in music industry at the University Of Liverpool and
member of Liverpool City Region Music Board. “There
seemed to be a proactivity, but that was sort of ignorant
of the resurgence of the virus.”
Flynn outlines that, even with vaccine rollout clicking
into gear in January, there was a looming skepticism
that test events wouldn’t be able to take place until
28

late summer or even early autumn. “The pace of the
programme has been astounding,” he adds.
The turnaround in fortunes reignited optimism for
a summer schedule of live music and events – adding a
heightened importance to the two test events in Liverpool.
“From the view of Festival Republic [Sunday event
promoters], they want to be able to demonstrate that
they can run a Covid-secure event on mass scale with the
amount of festivals they’ve sold tickets for,” says Flynn.
“It’s similar with the promoters of dance events. It shows
that private companies can be given the responsibilities to
do those things and do them effectively and well.”
This decentralised control in the time of a global
pandemic does however add some greater levels of
risk for those planning large-scale events. “There’s a
reputational element to all of this if there is a resurgence
of the virus over the summer. There’s an awful lot of
risk, not just economically in hoping the government
will underwrite the insurance,” explains Flynn. “Where
will the responsibility lie? How much is on the venues to
manage risk and maintain reputation and how much of
this will be government mandated?”
While the test events could take place in highly
controlled environments that could ensure safety, it
remains to be seen what rules will remain in place for
events after 21st June. Though there is much optimism
surrounding the city’s recent test events - of which
Liverpool’s Public Health boss Matt Ashton noted he was
confident they would not lead to significant rises in cases
- the full findings are yet to be published. However, The
Times has reported that early indications suggest gigs
and shows are no more dangerous than eating out or
shopping. Even for large-scale promoters such as Circus,
providing their own testing and data operation would
come with large financial pressure. “It will be difficult
for small venues and also our venues,” says Yousef. “If
we have to charge our customers for the tests on top
of the ticket then it’s not going to be viable. Unless the
government are going to underwrite the tests, I can’t see
[testing continuing]. I can’t see how it will economically
stack up. And logistically, too.”
Mathew Flynn echoes a similar tone in looking
towards the landscape for events post 21st June and
whether a situation with no distancing or testing can
be a reality. “The margins at venue level are slim. But
most promoters will make their money through festivals.
Venues can be more progressive and test things out.
For festivals, one weekend it’s all or nothing. It’s a huge
undertaking. Unless you have resources to ride that out,
then it’s a huge risk,” says Flynn regarding the possibility
of any further cancellations due to local or national
restrictions returning.
“I don’t think what the live sector is asking of
government, to underwrite the events, is unreasonable,”
he continues. “It’s only a cost should they have to step
in. The insurance premiums are going to be higher. If the
government are so keen for people to reconnect and gain
that trust in the events sector again, it seems like a small
commitment of funds to give promoters the confidence
to put on mass events.”
The current landscape seems less zero-sum between
economic reopening and lockdown. The signals from
the test events show a pathway to safely return to mass
events. It is the economic reality of providing this safety
and confidence that will either be ignored or placed onto
the responsibility of promoters by the government in the
FEATURE
proposed further relaxing of restrictions. It is here where
the crux of the issue will lie for small venue owners who
will be taking on a greater reputational or financial risk
depending on which direction the government turn. “It’s
so important to those smaller venues. I want to be in
those venues as much as I want to be here playing to a
field of people,” says Zuzu. “The crowds of 4,000 are as
important as the crowds of 40.”
Whatever the outcome in the weeks leading to June
21st, the events at Bramley-Moore and Sefton Park won’t
be any less significant or an anomaly in the roadmap. “It
felt like we did something that was significant for the city,”
says Yousef. “I’m a proud Scouser and always have been,
so being able to contribute in some small way and to get
the whole world watching what we’re capable of as a
city, that felt really special.” Sometimes just one night can
sometimes make a world’s difference. “It was pure – and
filled me with hope as to how quickly everybody got back
into the mood,” concluded Lambert. “The future doesn’t
feel so bleak anymore.” !
Words: Elliot Ryder / @elliot_ryder
Additional reporting: Ollie Adebsi & Gary Lambert
Sefton Park Photography: John Johnson / @john.johno
Circus Photography: Jody Hartley / @jodyhartley
Circus returns with Sasha on 25th June at Invisible Wind
Factory.
@CIRCUSmusic
@thisiszuzu
29

MAKING
WAVES
Adam Noor highlights the essential work of the Noise Project and LIMF Academy which came
together to support young artists in a recent collaboration.
Faced with a decade of austerity and budget
cuts, organisations in Liverpool have worked
tirelessly to promote the artistic development
of young people and create spaces that
encourage individuals from all backgrounds to explore
their passion for music. However, the global pandemic
which took hold in March 2020 served to create a more
unforgiving landscape for young artists and musicians.
More positively, in the months that followed, it has also
seen adaptation from a wealth of organisations meeting
the demands of the new normal. One of the more recent
initiatives taking root here in Liverpool sees a collaboration
between the Noise Project and LIMF Academy.
The project began as the brainchild of local creative
consultant Yaw Owusu and practitioner Joe Carroll
(aka Amique) who each represent the scheme’s parent
organisations. Owusu is the creative force behind the
Liverpool International Music Festival and its artist
development scheme the LIMF Academy, which focuses
on artists at an industry level. He shared how the idea
for this group was conceived – during an hour-long,
impromptu conversation between the two men on a
street corner after they collaborated on the Levi’s Music
Project in Anfield earlier that year.
“We talked about doing something like [the Levi’s
Music Project] but a little bit more grassroots with artists.
[Amique] came back and said, ‘Well, let’s do something
as a partnership between the Academy and Noise’,”
Owusu explained. “I must give credit to Amique, it’s very
much his vision, but with me bringing what I do to the
table, it’s been a wonderful partnership.”
Amique is a successful musician himself. After having
performed at Wireless Festival and opening for artists
like Snarky Puppy and JP Cooper, he’s accustomed to the
harsh but alluring reality of the music industry. Alongside
this, Amique works as a music development worker at
the Noise Project on Hanover Street, which is where I
was introduced to him more than three years ago.
As a teenager, I’d been looking for a way to develop
my interest in music without the financial
pressures of private tutors and
expensive equipment. I
stumbled across
Noise
and, after meeting the team there, I felt completely
welcomed and comfortable exploring something I’d
always kept strictly within the confines of my bedroom.
The project manager of Noise, Garth Jones,
summarised what they do: “Noise is for young people
aged 11-25 from all areas of Merseyside. We offer free
tuition in guitar, piano, drums and voice, along with artist
mentoring sessions covering song
writing, music production and industry
insight.” The time I spent at Noise,
working closely with Amique, helped
me immensely with my confidence
at a time when most teenagers feel
unsure about what they should do
with their life and what they are
capable of. Amique has a true knack
for showing young musicians what
they can achieve and an almost
magnetic quality of drawing their
talents to the surface. When I heard
about his new scheme for emerging
artists, I knew it had to be something
worth looking into.
Unfortunately, before the project got a chance to
welcome its inaugural cohort, the Covid-19 pandemic
put a swift halt to all collaborative schemes within the
community, shepherding the group into an uncharted
digital workspace. This proved tricky to begin with for
those involved, like 20-year-old rapper and spoken word
artist DAYZY. “[It was difficult] due to everyone having to
work from home because of the pandemic, we can’t just
go to the studio,” he said. “One specific challenge was
recording and trying to fix any errors with
the sound.” Like many of us, the
artists have had to adapt
to a new way of
working with
“Music will
always find
its way”
technology but, luckily, they had the expertise of Amique
and Owusu to help them through it. “The project leaders
have been amazing with handling this,” said Dayzy, “and
also teaching us to solve the issues ourselves.”
The Liverpool-based artist spoke about his
upbringing around family and friends involved in the
city’s creative scene, whom he credits for inspiring him
to harness his music and teaching
him to grow into the artist he is
today. He also pinpointed the aptly
named Catalyst Performing Arts
programme as the birthplace of his
musical career – a project based in
Liverpool 8 which provides young
people with the opportunity to
express themselves through drama,
writing, dance and other activities.
Regarding the collaborative nature of
the LIMF Academy x Noise Project,
Dayzy said: “For me, personally, I
helped contribute to the project with
my rapping ability, however it has
pushed me to explore my skills in
music production much more than I thought it would.”
When asked about the most rewarding aspect of being
involved, he responded, “Using our creativity to create
sounds together with the other artists on the project, that
have a big meaning behind them.”
It appears Amique and Owusu place a huge
importance on encouraging an environment of shared
creativity and a mutual respect for all the artists’ work
within the group. The former elaborated on how this
translates into their weekly meetings. “Sessions
regularly feature group song evaluations
where the young artists
evaluate one another’s
music and
30

development, educational discussions about artistic
growth, dedicated and in-depth exercises designed to
generate artistic inspiration as well as several guest
speakers from PRS, Ditto Distribution, not to mention
industry experts such as Mike Cave (Lewis Capaldi/
The Charlatans).” The benefit of being exposed to
insider knowledge of the music industry is obviously
huge for emerging talents, and this begins the levelling
of the playing field for disadvantaged artists who are
susceptible to being eaten up by the industry, something
both Owusu and Amique felt strongly about.
“What I’ve always tried to do is make sure there’s
balance. To make sure that there are opportunities for
artists who don’t normally get them, and also make
sure that these opportunities are actually going to help
the artists, because sometimes things are put on that
may be tokenistic, sometimes the people who run it
don’t necessarily understand those artists that they’re
working with,” Owusu explained. The project goes to
great lengths to give invaluable insight into what being a
professional recording artist is like, in preparation for the
exciting things they predict their artists will go on to do.
One such artist is NI MAXINE, a 24-year-old
originally from Bristol, who describes herself as being
“on a journey of healing and self-discovery through
music”. The jazz singer spoke of her roots in church
choirs and cathedrals but noted the night she gave a
spontaneous performance at a jazz club as a turning
point in her career. “I asked the house band if I could sing
a song, to which they responded, of course. It seemed
to go down pretty well as they asked me to come back
and sing a number of times which was fun, even though
the owners couldn’t remember my name,” she recalled.
Despite being a seasoned performer, fronting the jazz
outfit River Of Beer during her time in Bristol, Ni thanks
the LIMF Academy x Noise Project for
helping her find the confidence
to trust her own music.
She describes
the
experience as being “really lovely during lockdown,
just having a virtual space to socialise in and meet new
people. If you’ve been working on a track, you can send
it in before the session and have it played to the group
before everyone offers feedback, which has been really
encouraging and has given me the confidence to start
putting my original music out there”.
Now, Ni is involved in The Wombat Supper Club, an
intimate live music and dining experience operating out
of her flat in Anfield. She holds the distinguished position
of resident chanteuse at The Wombat, where one of the
perks of the job is being able to host the audience from
the comfort of your very own living room. The concept
displays a sense of innovative resourcefulness that has
people fighting for one of 20 exclusive seats at the table.
Lamenting her inability to host these gatherings over
lockdown, Ni says, “I can’t wait to be able to invite people
to The Wombat once again – for food, conversation and
jazz! It’s going to be so nice to lay the table and prepare
a meal for guests; although, dinner for two has been fun
over the past year or so.”
Despite the setbacks of the pandemic and the
mounting pressure on voluntary services such as
the LIMF Academy x Noise Project, the young artists
involved seem hopeful about the future in their industry.
Dayzy commented on his eagerness to share his work.
“I am very excited about showing the world what us
creatives and musicians have been up to,” he said. “I will
be releasing three new tracks and a few music videos
this summer.”
On top of being involved with The Wombat,
Ni shared that she has been working on a body of
music over the past year. “I’m hoping to record in the
summertime,” she said, “ready for something exciting on
the 20th October, which just so happens to be my 25th
birthday. Save
the date!”
Their optimism is a testament to the resilience
of creativity against any obstacle, specifically for a
generation that too often seems to be set up to fail by
the powers that be. Owusu made a similarly positive
observation. “Music will always find its way,” he said.
“It’s like water, it’s so essential and so abundant that,
regardless of what’s going on, artists are going to create
music, people are going to consume and share music,
music is still going to be our soundtrack to everything we
do and everything we create – it’s not going anywhere.”
While no one disregards the struggles facing the
creative industries right now, especially after the loss
of so many live venues across the country in the past
year, these artists seem equally resistant to entertain
the idea that anything could stop them. And judging
by the success of this project and the artists involved, I
can’t help but agree. The LIMF Academy x Noise Project
is a perfect example of how we can adapt and change
and make something amazing in the face of adversity,
but above all it illustrates the necessity of spaces where
young people can be authentic, creative and together. !
Words: Adam Noor
Illustration: Matthew Berks
The LIMF Academy x Noise Project is set to return in
the next year. Follow the link below for updates on
applications.
@limfacademy
limfacademy.com
mya.org.uk/Project-Noise
Adam took part in Bido Lito!’s Bylines writers
programme, developing young culture writers of the
future. Bylines runs throughout the year for
more information and to find out about
the next intake go to bidolito.co.uk/
workshops
FEATURE
31

STATE OF THE
STUDIOS, STATE
OF THE CITY
A new report suggests that without support many of Liverpool’s artist studios are at risk of
disappearing. El Gray looks at the implication this could have on city-wide culture.
There is a certain disposition that defines coastal
towns, a familiarity with collision and change.
Liverpool’s coastal identity is paralleled in its
culture; a pulsing and varied ecosystem of artists
and musicians, poets and creators exist among otherwise
normality, clashing against each other and producing a
swirling, bubbling creativity. However, a recent report
from Art in Liverpool reveals one component of the city’s
creative ecosystem is slowly dying.
In the early months of the new decade, as the
pandemic intensified, arts organisations across Liverpool
found themselves “watching the world fall apart around
us”. In this context, Patrick Kirk-Smith, director of Art in
Liverpool, and arts PR consultant Laura Brown undertook
a report into the state of artist studios across the Liverpool
City Region.
Liverpool is home to 35 artist studios, providing
workspaces, studios, exhibition space and storage to over
500 artists. These studios form an integral part of the
artistic community and the wider communities they exist
within. However, the ‘State of the Studios’ report, produced
in collaboration with a collection of Liverpool’s artist studios,
reveals the entropy they’re facing: without immediate
support, 31 of Liverpool’s 35 studios face extinction.
A combination of unaffordable rents, demand for
development and insecurity in building provision has
gradually marginalised artist studios, forcing them out of
city centre spaces. The ‘Livelihood of Visual Artist’ (2019)
report by Arts Council England indicates that, on average,
artists earn £16,150 each year, ensuring studio rent
cannot be in parallel with other industries. In a competitive
property market, this leaves studios extremely vulnerable
to rising property prices and landlords seeking to gain
from more profitable ventures in attractive city centre
locations. The pandemic has revealed and exacerbated
32
these existing vulnerabilities, decimating studio funding
and creating chasms where cracks once existed. Studios,
therefore, inhabit a precarious existence, forced to move
further out of the city or close entirely, hollowing out the
city’s creative culture.
This is a familiar story among creative organisations in
Liverpool. A story of regeneration, exploitation, profit and
marginalisation. In its intricacies, the story reveals truths
about the role of cultural regeneration in Liverpool and the
particular values which define the use of urban space in
the city. It also presents an alternative utopian future. This
is the story of Liverpool’s artist studios. “It feels as though
Liverpool does not understand what they’ve lost,” says
Tony Knox of Road Studios.
Often, the role of artist studios appears mysterious
and ambiguous, defined by an existence seemingly both
inside and outside of conventional society. This obscurity
partly results from the fact that “it’s very difficult to define
what a studio does”, as Patrick Kirk-Smith indicates.
Liverpool’s studios encompass a vast array of art forms:
pottery, graffiti, sculpture, textiles and visual arts more
generally. “No one studio does the same thing. Most
studios have a specialism, and they support artists within
that specialism… there isn’t one definition.”
Despite this variation, artist studios are united as
vital components of the city’s arts scene. They operate as
creative laboratories, offering artists a dedicated space
to experiment and develop their craft. Critically, studios
enable networking and creative collaboration between
artists, providing a stimulating environment “surrounded
by people who can’t help themselves but make stuff”, as
Max Mallender, artist lead at The Royal Standard, explains.
Studios also offer a vital transitionary space for graduate
artists to receive mentoring and support. In this way,
artist studios provide the foundations for the city’s art
scene, operating as the “bloodline to the rest of the sector”
as Faye Hamblett-Jones, artistic director at The Royal
Standard, explains.
The forced closure or relocation of artist studios severs
this vital limb of the artistic community. In a previous
article for Bido Lito!, Charly Reed persuasively outlined the
case for small music venues in the city, highlighting their
importance for the wider music scene. Perhaps due to
the dominancy of Liverpool’s musical identity, or the more
insular, quieter nature of artist studios, their importance
is often underappreciated. However, the two spaces
perform a similar function in Liverpool’s diverse cultural
infrastructure – offering a dedicated space for embryonic
talent to grow. “Every time there has been a studio within
Liverpool’s city centre, they have been systematically
moved to the outskirts,” Tony Knox indicates. Without this
cultural infrastructure, “where do [we] expect talent to
grow?”
Knox’s question encapsulates the necessity of
affordable, accessible and secure studio spaces. Without
investment and consolidated support, the talent will end
up going and they won’t look back. “They won’t say, ‘That
was a great city’, they’ll say, ‘You done fuck all for me’,”
Knox warns. Liverpool risks suffocating the grassroots
artistic community and the evolution of the city’s arts
scene, creating a façade of culture with no underlying
structure. Artificial flowers with dead soil.
This story of underappreciation and perpetual
marginalisation reflects an underlying flaw in Liverpool’s
cultural landscape. Artists and artist studios are perceived
primarily as a mechanism for cultural regeneration,
rather than for their inherent non-commercial value. In
Liverpool’s current cultural landscape, this flaw manifests
itself in the dominance of property developers. “At the
moment, property developers dictate the art scene, and

therefore they stagnate the art scene,” Knox explains,
restricting affordability, accessibility and creative freedom.
Artists need space, either for temporary exhibitions and
performances, or as studio space and “the more central
spaces can be, the more visible independent artists can
be”, Patrick Kirk-Smith emphasises, allowing them to be
seen and heard. However, as Liverpool has developed and
become more attractive, artists are increasingly unable to
access affordable city centre spaces, or are exploited as
temporary solutions to reviving vacant or disused buildings
before being “systematically forced out”. “Everything is
monetised now,” Knox laments. “Buildings are bought and
they’re sat on… A lot of the buildings that were potentially
useful and could have been for artists to go into are no
longer available, because people see them as potential to
make money. They can’t see the bigger picture.”
During its history, Road Studios has faced two
evictions, a High Court ruling and constant uncertainty in
the fight to retain its city centre location on Victoria Street.
“[The property owners] systematically moved the goal
posts by taking away access to the building, it was literally
a building site… It got to the point where they actually
smashed the toilets as tenants were still in the building.”
Sadly, in 2019, Road was evicted and forced out of the
city centre, securing a space in the Baltic’s Northern Lights
building. Knox believes that property developers “play the
white knight”, purporting to support artist studios and
provide them with space, only to abandon them once a
more profitable option surfaces. The experience of Road
Studios encapsulates the situation facing artist studios
across the city and the hostile environment they face.
Artists recognise and champion their ability to
“add value to space” and “enrich communities”, as Faye
Hamblett-Jones explains, reviving the communities they
exist within. “Artist studios anchor creative people, art
and cultural activity in their neighbourhood,” as a report
from the National Federation of Artists’ Studios Providers
from 2014 indicates. In addition to providing local
amenities in the forms of cafés, workspaces and events or
workshops, the presence of artist studios creates a sense
of ‘something happening’, piercing through the stagnancy
that often dominates forgotten communities. “Artists
have [always] been used as a catalyst for regeneration,”
Knox acknowledges; however, artist studios want to be
seen as a permanent part of the city’s infrastructure, not
simply used to develop an area before being outpriced,
abandoned and marginalised.
Liverpool is a city that understands more than most
the power of culture to stimulate regeneration and
transform city landscapes. In recent years, invigorated by
the success of 2008, Liverpool has positioned culture as
a primary driver of revival and growth, defining itself as a
‘creative city’. This has transformed external perceptions,
reflected in the development of the tourism and leisure
industry, which was worth £4.9 billion in 2018. The
continuing relevance of this approach is epitomised today
in Liverpool City Region’s ‘Cultural Compact Strategic
Action Plan 2021-2026’ released earlier this year, which
positions culture as a dominant force in the city’s recovery
from the pandemic and in the economy over the next five
years. During an era in which many local authorities have
cut cultural provision and funding, Liverpool City Council’s
commitment to culture is commendable and the report
does emphasise the need for “inclusive growth”.
However, there is a sense among Liverpool’s artistic
community that they are continually exploited for
economic gain in the name of regeneration. “[Artists]
are always exploited,” Patrick Kirk-Smith states flatly.
Liverpool’s narrative of a creative city is potentially
damaging if culture is valued disproportionately for its
economic or regenerative potential, rather than for its
inherent non-commercial value.
This potential damage
is reflected in the recent
revelations of the Caller
Report, which revealed the
City Council’s “dysfunctional
management”, particularly
within its Regeneration,
Planning and Property
Management Departments,
and resulted in the deployment
of government commissioners
to oversee these departments
for the next three years. For
Liverpool’s artist studios, it is proof of the “systemic”
methods through which they have been exploited for
regeneration projects and the profit motive which has
dictated the city’s development, granting lucrative
development contracts and failing to prioritise communities.
Only time will tell whether the arrival of the
commissioners will limit the Council’s ambitions or
agency over Liverpool’s cultural strategy. However, one
thing remains clear: if Liverpool is to avoid the continuing
marginalisation and depletion of its artistic communities, it
must re-evaluate its use of urban space. Thankfully, artists
already have the solution – a utopian vision of a different
kind of city.
Max Mallender laughs when asked how he would
solve the problems facing Liverpool’s artist studios. It is
a resigned, knowing laugh, acknowledging the simplicity
of the solution but the difficult of actually enacting it.
“Property developers
dictate the art
scene, and therefore
they stagnate the
arts scene”
It encapsulates the situation facing artist studios in
Liverpool. They are tired. Tired of explaining themselves
continuously, tired of the same resurfaced issues, tired of
asking for support. Tired of knowing exactly how to solve
problems but lacking the power to achieve solutions. “If I
could solve the problems,” Max says, “I’d use all the empty
commercial space and all the empty retail space in the city
and I’d give it to [artists] to do stuff with.”
High streets are dying; empty façades stare out like
glazed eyes onto deserted pavements. Rather than this
apocalyptic scene, imagine if artists inhabited these empty
spaces. “Imagine if the high street changed, imagine if
every couple of months there was something different in
X space or Y space. There would be a constant draw for
people to come into the city,” Max enthuses. Patrick Kirk-
Smith agrees that “one day the experience of a high street
needs to change – it needs to not be about ‘big culture’.
It needs to be local, and community-led, and artists are
ideally placed to do that”. Faye Hamblett-Jones imagines
“open spaces where the public can come and engage with
art and artists”. Commercial
spaces are inherently exclusive,
dictating access based on
economic status. Artistic
spaces are democratic and
inclusive, inviting people in for
no other purpose than presence
and participation. These are
the kind of spaces that should
define Liverpool – those that
facilitate conversation and
creation, that compel and entice
interactions between disparate
people and ideas.
This utopian image of a dynamic and responsive
Liverpool city space is enticing, interspersing art and
creativity with other aspects of urban life. A diverse
ecology of art, retail, work and leisure where ordinariness
clashes against artistry – a buzzing metropolis which is
inclusive and inviting. This is what creates a fertile and
explosive culture. A tidal wave of creativity in the city
centre, honouring Liverpool’s coastal identity; an ebbing,
flowing, evolving city which keeps everyone afloat. This is
what is at stake. This is what can be saved. !
Words: El Gray / @Just__El
Illustration: John O’Loughlin / @jolworkshop
To read the full State Of The Studios report visit
studio-network-merseyside.co.uk
FEATURE
33

RON’S
PLACE
34

Following his death in 2019, the home of outsider
artist Ron Gittins revealed itself to be a secret
treasure trove of surreal sculpture and classical
painting. With efforts currently ongoing to save the
art and the flat itself, Matthew Hogarth stepped into
Ron’s dreamworld in an attempt to learn more about
the idiosyncratic artist.
Growing up, it was less footballers or television
personalities or even musicians who I was
truly fascinated with and inspired by. Instead,
it was those who frequented history books,
the world’s outliers. I was always drawn to Victorian
eccentrics with carriages drawn by zebras, or the likes
of Salvador Dalí, moustache curled, wide-eyed behind a
lobster phone. I was always fascinated by the worlds that
these characters inhabited, made for themselves and their
desire to refuse to conform to society’s standards.
These figures, however, always seemed completely
exotic from the post-industrial town of Birkenhead, where
I grew up. The local characters were always far more
pedestrian, lacking some of the je ne sais quoi of those
I obsessed over in large hardback books. My affinity
with such people never faded. I formed more recent
allegiances with outsiders like Daniel Johnston, while also
scouring charity shops for artwork at any opportunity.
So, it was with great surprise and excitement when
I first heard of the late RON GITTINS and his rented
house in Birkenhead. Within a mile of where I had grown
up was a modern-day Sistine Chapel: an ode to ancient
civilisations, historical
figures and underwater
worlds, gloriously
splayed out in household
paint, fibreglass, papiermâché
and concrete.
In an unassuming
suburb, between beige
interiors and hidden
behind drapes, lay an
entirely different world;
the fantastical home of
Ron, now affectionately
named RON’S PLACE.
Upon the unfortunate
passing of Ron, his
niece Jay Williams and
her husband Chris
Teasdale, who together run the roving art organisation
The Caravan Gallery, uncovered what had been decades
in the making. Although slightly cluttered upon first
entry, there was evidence of Gittins’ work quite literally
everywhere in the flat, which had become a work of art
of its own. His hall walls were adorned with Ancient
Egyptians, hieroglyphics and Cleopatra. This imagery is
quite apt – on entering the property you feel a little like
how Howard Carter must have felt upon discovering the
Tomb of Tutankhamun; there’s a wonderment which just
makes you smile.
“Mum and dad kept in touch, but he never invited
people to the house. We never lost touch, but we never
realised how amazing his place was until he died,” says
Jan .Walking round is a rather humbling experience.
There’s a true magic within the ground floor flat. Every
wall is a canvas, every ceiling a diorama, every floor
painted to the style that hangs above it.
“There’s something truly
refreshing in Ron’s work
in that it was created
for the love of it, for
something beautiful, to
live in and completely
lose yourself in”
Jan remembers her uncle growing up. “He was always
obsessed with power. He was born in Birkenhead. We
spent a lot of time there as kids, but Ron would go in the
outside toilet and recite Richard III in this really grandiose
voice,” she recalls. “My grandad would say, ‘Why are you
speaking like that, it’s not part of our background’. [But]
he would put on these really grand voices. He had this
really great air of confidence and grandiosity.”
His obsession with power manifests itself in his art,
too. Throughout the house it seems to be a common
theme. Books on kings and queens sit juxtaposed with
books on revolution and the likes of Henry VIII, Romans
and royals of old adorn his walls.
His non-conformism wasn’t just kept inside
the house, either. “A lot of what Ron did was very
performative. He’d be a familiar sight around Birkenhead
wearing crazy outfits and he often went to Wickes to
buy sand and cement dressed up,” notes Jan. This sand
and cement makes up perhaps the most eye catching
features inside: two huge home-made fireplaces, one a
lion, the other a minotaur. Inside both sit a couple of tea
lights. “He would go busking. A lovely thing that people
said was that, ‘Ahh your
Ron, mad but we love
him’. He was always
charming and he would
have time for you. And,
as family, we often saw
another side of him as
he was attention seeking
and he was often called
‘mad uncle Ronnie’ – part
of me thinks that’s great
as the status quo needs
to be challenged.”
To me, it’s that
Ron never let anyone
inside that makes the
place just so special.
“He really inspired my
creativity,” Jan tells us. The Caravan Gallery operates
with much the same ethos as Ron himself: offering up
art to those who may not otherwise get to experience it
while capturing the surrealism in everyday life. “I think
I was born creative and my parents always encouraged
our creativity. He made learning things really exciting
and always had lots of history books. I remember getting
obsessed with ancient Rome and he gave me a Roman
clay tile once. I just found it fascinating being able to
hold that connection between myself and people in
a completely different place in time. He always made
learning something interesting and exciting, and what’s
funny going through a lot of his stuff is how much we
have [in common]. My studio is absolutely chocka with
stuff I’ve saved, like books and papers and things that
might be useful to make things with.”
“He did it for himself,” Jan continues. “Even
when I was a kid, I remember he lived in a rented
FEATURE
accommodation with my nan and grandad in New Ferry
and even then he painted his bedroom ceiling as a whole
Roman scene. I think the neighbours got a bit pissed off
as he started to create a Roman wall in the garden. He
used to dismember my grandparents’ brushes to get
the bristles off to make Roman helmets and overran the
house with projects. There was always fibreglass and
glue and Plasticine everywhere. He was always doing
something and was always very proud of what he did.
So, he wasn’t being secretive in that respect. He often
made paintings for people, but it was more the fear of
losing the art within the house.”
A sculpture in the house still holds the tag from its
submission to The Royal Academy. Without wanting
to sound clichéd, there can often be a snobbery within
the world which can cause exclusion. Whether that be
through art being outside contemporary taste or not
fitting within parameters. Therefore, there’s something
truly refreshing in Ron’s work in that it was created
for the love of it, for something beautiful, to live in and
completely lose yourself in. It offers something unique
which could have been lost if it had to jump through
hoops and meet expected norms.
The fact that the interior of the flat was kept
secret is perhaps somewhat of a double-edged sword.
Having used household items, some of the art is in a
fragile state. “We’ve had the head conservator from
National Museums Liverpool over and she said there’s
been no damp in there and it’s been kept in really good
condition, but some of it really does need attention,”
admits Jan. Alongside National Museums Liverpool, the
space has also attracted the attention of art specialists
worldwide, as well as the likes of filmmaker Martin
Wallace and Jarvis Cocker who have become patrons of
the space. Somewhat ironic for Ron I’m sure, achieving a
posthumous fame with work we’re not sure he wanted
people to see.
As I walk out of the house, adjusting my eyes to
the sunshine and leafy suburbia that surrounds me,
it hits me how much value the house possesses. Not
only as an archive of a lifetime of art and the unique
individual behind it, but the lessons it holds in the joys of
individuality and the expression of self. I may not have
had the pleasure to meet Ron, but his art tells a lot of this
story and provides the interview he couldn’t give. !
Words: Matthew Hogarth
Photography: Serena Ambrose Ellis / @serenambroseellis
You can support and preserve the legacy of Ron’s Place
via the Patreon link below
patreon.com/ronsplacewirral
@RonsSaving
35

SPOTLIGHT
SEAGOTH
“Songwriting
allows me to be
emotional in a
pretty raw and
healing way”
Channelling emotion through
joyous sprinkles of synth.
If you had to describe your music/style in a sentence,
what would you say?
Waves of synthesizers and waves of emotion.
Have you always wanted to create music? How did you
get into it?
Pretty much, I used to write a lot of poetry as a way of
expressing my tween-self. So, when I got into playing
music, coming up with lyrics came almost naturally to
me. Growing up listening to bands like Linkin Park and
Evanescence with their heavily emotional lyrics inspired
me, sort of; it made me realise that music didn’t have to
just be about ladies and booze.
Can you pinpoint a live gig or a piece of music that
initially inspired you?
The first ‘gig’ I went to was an All Time Low show at the
Manchester Arena in 2016. I was never super into their
music, but I was going with my friend who was. At this
point I was really passionate about music so being there
with people who were also passionate was amazing. I
remember being in the moment and seeing all the guys
on stage and thinking, ‘That’s what I wanna do’. Pretty
lame, but it was a defining moment for me because I
realised I loved live music.
What do you think is the overriding influence on your
songwriting: other art, emotions, current affairs – or a
mixture of all of these?
I’d definitely say all of the above. Songwriting allows me
to be emotional in a pretty raw and healing way. Letting
your mind flow while writing about something deeply
personal and then singing about it helps me get over
things, I think.
If you could support any artist in the future, who would
it be?
Without a doubt, Declan McKenna.
Do you have a favourite venue you’ve performed in? If
so, what makes it special?
The Cavern, definitely, because so many stars have
walked on that stage and the energy down there is
indescribable.
Why is music important to you?
Music helps me give context to my emotions, listening
to it elevates me emotionally and it always has. It’s so
universally enjoyed that, even in times of incredible
divide, we all listen to the same songs.
Seagoth plays St Barnabas Church on 28th May and
RivFest in Warrington on 8th August
36

KOKIRI
A producer and DJ of full-bodied house music.
If you had to describe your music/style in a sentence,
what would you say?
It sits on the borders of melodic house, with elements of
soul, disco and classic house hiding in there too.
Have you always wanted to produce? How did you get
into it?
I got into production when I was about 12/13. My brother
showed me a song he had on vinyl and explained to me
that the lad who had made it produced it in his bedroom.
It blew my mind. I thought that you needed a big
expensive studio to release music. When I realised I could
make tracks on my PC, I became obsessed.
Do you have a highlight in your career so far?
For me, it happened about six years ago, when I’d put
together a song called Retrospect. As soon as it was
released, it was being played at shows, festivals and even
topped the Radio 1 Dance Chart. It then went on to be
released by Ministry of Sound.
To what extent has Liverpool’s electronic music
scene and clubbing scene influenced your work as a
producer?
One of the reasons I wanted to produce music was
because of Mike Di Scala. He was basically running
the Scouse house scene when I started. He was doing
exactly what I aspired to, just a lad making music and
playing it out at shows; this was a massive inspiration to
me.
What was the inspiration behind your newest track So
Free? Any particular musical influences?
The original idea for the song was made back in 2015.
I came across a sample that had a tribal vibe and spent
a couple of hours playing around with it. Fast forward a
few years later, I had a writing session with Jem Cooke
who appears on the track. I found an old mp3 of the idea
and asked if this was something she’d be interested in
writing to. She loved the original idea, so we went from
there. I was introduced to Todd Terry through my label
and showed him some of my demos. He loved it, and I
suppose the rest is history.
You’ve already worked with legends such as Todd
Terry. Is there anyone who you aspire to collaborate
with one day?
Collaborating with Todd was definitely a bucket list
moment for me. I could probably list about 100 people
who I’d love to collaborate with, with but I’ll narrow it
down to my top three: Ben Böhmer, Tom Misch and Roy
Ayers.
Why is music important to you?
I just love that you can hear a song that you haven’t heard
for years and it has the power to transport you instantly
to a different point in your life. I want to be able to give
people that feeling. I want listeners to relate to my music,
understand why I’ve created it and leave them with a
lasting effect.
So Free is available now via Perfect Havoc
@kokirimusic
MONDO TRASHO
Breathless surf rock with a recording
prolificacy to keep pace.
If you had to describe your music/style in a sentence,
what would you say?
Jay (guitar/voice): Scouse surf-rock/garage noir.
Chris (Organ): With added cinematic feel. A mix of
grandiose Echo And The Bunnymen and the dirt-surf
garage from The Cramps and the Dead Kennedys.
Have you always wanted to create music? How did you
get into it?
C: I started mostly by getting few instrument lessons in
school. As soon as I was shown a power chord or a Nirvana
song on drums I never looked back. We’ve always been
in some sort of band, from the cover groups we started
at school, to our three-chord punk bands we were in as
teenagers.
What drew you towards the lo-fi garage sound in
particular?
C: We feel like with new recording and production methods
the surf sound can get over-produced.
J: It’s important we have some grit.
C: We want our music to sound like it’s been buried in a
damp basement for decades.
You’ve just released a series of three EPs. How does each
release connect with each other, and how do they differ?
C: Each EP is distinct, while all staying true to our sound.
The first, That’s Trash, showcases how diverse our songs
are. We picked one of our grand cinematic tracks with
Running Scared, a fast garage track with 86’d and slow
surf track with One Eyed Jacques.
J: More Trash has three darker tracks both in feel and lyrical
content.
C: And Pure Trash has tracks you can dance to, with songs
like Tear It Up.
What do you think is the overriding influence on your
songwriting: other art, emotions, current affairs – or a
mixture of all of these?
J: It stems from wanting to do something artistic. You know,
just to leave something here for when you’re gone, to
prove you existed. I quite like thinking about the future and
someone saying, “Here’s my uncle’s old band.”
C: Or, “My granddad was in a band, you know, on this old
website called Spotify.”
It’s a break from your working life. I like thinking art, old
horror films, John Waters films, B-movies and Twilight Zone
episodes inspire us.
Do you have a favourite venue you’ve performed in? If so,
what makes it special?
J: We only had the chance to play about three venues
before the pandemic, but Drop The Dumbulls sticks out. It’s
DIY to its core.
Why is music important to you?
J: It’s everything.
C: It’s something that’s always there. Music is the perfect
tonic. It’s the principal thing.
Photography: Mat Colfar
That’s Trash, More Trash and Pure Trash are out now and
play Shipwrecked at Future Yard 14th August.
SPOTLIGHT
37

SPOTLIGHT
A LESSER
VERSION
Liam Evans introduces their new project which
is mushrooming into a shoegaze force.
“Music has evoked
the strongest and
longest lasting
feelings in me”
If you had to describe your music/style in a sentence,
what would you say?
Deviated rock music for non-music enthusiasts.
Have you always wanted to create music? How did you
get into it?
I’ve always been creative in different ways, but it wasn’t
until I was around the age of 16 that I fell in to playing
instruments and trying to play songs that I had written
with friends.
Can you pinpoint a live gig or a piece of music that
initially inspired you?
When I first heard Ceremony by New Order, I felt
compelled to share my stories and emotions and things
I’d written and I’ve carried on doing it ever since. I was
always making things prior to that, but I think that was
one of the first times that I felt inspired to make art in the
ways that I do now.
Do you have a favourite song or piece of music to
perform? What does it say about you?
I like playing a song called Perfect Circles, which is the
last song on the album Excess (which we are releasing
later this year). I think the things I want to say in my art
at this moment in time are communicated as simply as
possible in that song.
What do you think is the overriding influence on your
songwriting: other art, emotions, current affairs – or a
mixture of all of these?
I try to pull from any and every influence, whether it is
from the things I see and feel and experience or things
happening around me and in the world. Making art is a
very cathartic experience for me and I have to be able
to talk about different things in order to make sense of
them.
If you could support any artist in the future, who would
it be?
Probably Paul McCartney, predictably. Or Brian Eno, in
some way.
Do you have a favourite venue you’ve performed in? If
so, what makes it special?
My favourite venues have probably been Sound in
Liverpool, The Prince Albert in Brighton, and Aatma in
Manchester.
Why is music important to you?
Music is the easiest way for me to express myself and I
can’t imagine it not being something I would do. Music
has generally evoked the strongest and longest lasting
feelings in me compared to other art and, for that reason,
it has been central to everything I do for as long as I can
remember.
Sylvia and A07042 are available now. I Drown is out 11th
June. A Lesser Version play the Bido Lito! Social at Future
Yard on 30th July.
@alesserversion
38

SAN PEDRO’S VISION
The psychedelia fuelled five-piece explore experiences of the mind.
If you had to describe your music/style in a sentence,
what would you say?
Progressive psychedelia with bits and bobs of different
genres thrown into the mix.
Have you always wanted to create music? How did you
get into it?
Bottle: Everyone has always just wanted to play music.
Me, Sam and Stu had been in various different bands
together since we were kids, and found our way once
Chris, Alannah and Luke joined.
Your music sounds like a blend of grunge and heavy
psych. What drew you to the genre?
Psychedelics! Seriously though, we started off as a blues
band back when we were kids, and eventually moved
over to psych-pop. After that, we moved over to heavier
music that really summed us up as a new band.
Can you pinpoint a live gig or a piece of music that
initially inspired you?
Bottle: The first time I heard Floyd’s The Piper At The
Gates Of Dawn it blew my mind.
Stu: Pink Floyd Live in Pompeii.
Sam: Stop Making Sense, because it showed that gigs
can be more than just music. The possibilities for different
ways to entertain are endless.
Chris: Watching Anders Flanderz playing Girls Just Want
To Have Fun through a Vocoder. He was banging a water
tank over his head with bells around his ankles.
Alannah: My first gig was Alice Cooper when I was nine.
The drama of the show, the awesome performance, got
me really excited about music.
Luke: Alfa Mist and Yussef Dayes at Abbey Road, playing
Love Is The Message.
What was the biggest inspiration behind your new EP?
We wanted to elucidate the psychedelic experience of the
mind, the journey you go through, and the light and dark
that goes with it.
How do your latest release differ from your previous
work?
It’s a lot darker. We moved away from the psych-pop
sound we had developed over a couple of years. The
world’s a dark place and we wanted to capture it, but also
reach for the light too.
How was the process of making the EP?
B: I had been messing round with alternate tunings on
the guitar to form The Nerve Centre and Subconscious.
Chris brought in Reflection. Once we had Alannah join
the tracks gained that kick that made us think we need to
get these recorded.
Why is music important to you?
Music is the food of the soul. Everyone is the same when
it comes to feeling music. It’s amazing that something
personal to us is personal to someone else for a
completely different reason.
Photography: Olivia Hunt and Ade Henry
Subconscious Reflection is available now.
@sanpedrosvision
HENRY JONES
Searching for the melody through
method acting songwriting.
If you had to describe your music/style in a sentence,
what would you say?
Sometimes poppy, sometimes more experimental. I am only
recently beginning to own how inconsistent my style is.
Have you always wanted to create music? How did you
get into it?
I have always had an emotional connection to it. My
family are all music lovers, so I was always surrounded
by great music. I found music was always the best tool to
process my emotions, too. My mum says I used to sing a
lot as a child. Mostly school hymns.
Can you pinpoint a live gig or a piece of music that
initially inspired you?
I used to jam out to Give Me Oil In My Lamp in assembly.
I’m not Christian, but Jesus can sure write a hit. One time
me and my brother found a pile of rap CDs behind some
kid’s house. His parents had thrown them out, probably
because of the language. We salvaged them and gave
them a lot of spins over the years. I would say those
memories always stick out because that was my first
experience of discovering music for myself.
What do you think is the overriding influence on your
songwriting: other art, emotions, current affairs – or a
mixture of all of these?
I would say most of my creativity comes from when
I’m feeling down. Break-ups are usually my fuel for
writing. I always find I’m super creative when my room
is messy and I’m unwashed. It’s like method acting but
for songwriting, creating an environment that mirrors the
music I’m trying to make.
If you could support any artist in the future, who would
it be?
It’s between Alex G, Andy Shauf or Chastity Belt at the
moment.
Do you have a favourite venue you’ve performed in? If
so, what makes it special?
The Reeds was definitely a stand-out, it was so small
you were literally face to face with the audience. Sound
Basement was always a great setting for a good night,
too. It’s sad to a see a lot of them are no longer open. My
heart aches for them. That makes the memories even
more special now.
Why is music important to you?
I am such an anxious and shy person, so I always find
music helps me communicate with people better, there
isn’t anything in the world more intimate than listening
to music with another person and being completely in
silence for the whole song or album. To me, that silence
tells me more about a person than any small talk ever
could.
Photography: Michael Davies
Something About The Rain is available now.
@hank_markdukas
SPOTLIGHT 39

PREVIEWS
“If I’d just had it
easy, I probably
wouldn’t be doing
this now”
GIG
KATY J PEARSON
Get It Loud In Libraries @ Widnes Library – 06/06
As the dust settles following her 2020 debut album, Return, the boho’d silhouette of Wild West
Country gunslinger Katy J Pearson heads for the Mersey shores.
An afternoon gig? In a library? In Widnes?
Stranger things have happened over the last
12 months, but if this is the so-called new
normal then count me in. With over 800 of
them locking up for good since 2010, our libraries have
known sacrifice long before the viral apocalypse reached
these shores.
But there’s something far more noble at play here.
Get It Loud In Libraries aren’t just signalling the gig
drought’s end, they’re helping to bring live music –
and the wider creative opportunities it affords – to
our metropolitan peripheries; our towns and suburbs
that have, for far too long, become something of a live
performance no-man’s land that never get as much as a
whiff of a tour van’s exhaust pipe.
Beyond references to Spike Island and Widnes train
station’s claim to Paul Simon’s Homeward Bound, the
music annals of the Liverpool City Region Borough of
Culture 2021 are somewhat muted. But if any venue is to
welcome KATY J PEARSON’s West Country Americana
to the Viking shores of Halton, then Widnes Library’s as
good a start as any.
Having departed the charts-churn pressures of
a former major label to join the Heavenly Recordings
family, the self-crowned “70s Texas mom” is ready to
hit the highway after releasing her country-pop debut in
November 2020. She phones in to reveal all.
Hello Katy, it’s been quite a year. What were your initial
thoughts when you released Return as we went into
that second lockdown back in November?
It was challenging for me, because it’s taken such a long
time to finally release my album and of course you have
so many expectations about what that’s going to be
like. But it was really frustrating when I realised that it
was going to be coming out in lockdown when I couldn’t
celebrate with my label, friends or family. But there were
so many positives that came out of it. I felt it got more
of a reach because so many people had pulled their
campaigns. As a new artist I had nothing to lose by doing
that, so we were like, ‘Let’s do it’. I kind of just got over it
and realised that, you know, I’m still releasing my album;
I’m still getting to hold it and, to be honest, looking back
now, I’m so happy with how it’s gone down.
The album is not without its own backstory, which has
been well documented, regarding some unfortunate
experiences with a former major label and its pressures
of hit-making. Is it fair to say we see something of a
new beginning in Return?
Definitely. I’m 25 now, I didn’t go to university – I went
straight into working with a major label when I was 19.
I had just left my foundation art course and me and my
brother were living such a weird kind of life where all our
friends were at uni doing uni stuff and I was, like, doing
really serious music stuff. They were my first few years of
being a young adult and having to really get challenged
and, in a way, if I’d just had it easy, I probably wouldn’t
be doing this now, because I think having that challenge
made me even more determined that this was what I
wanted to do.
Has this migrated over to your creative process? Are
you more in-tune with who you were all along now that
you have a much more independent scope?
One hundred per cent. I have such a good team around
me, and I feel so comfortable just doing whatever I want.
I think all I needed to do was to get that first album out
and know that I could do it and achieve it. And, in terms
of directing my music videos, they were all collaborative
except for Something Real, so I was very much involved.
It’s just given me that confidence that, you know, I can
really get stuck into all aspects of the project and not just
be the writer and singer. I can spread myself all over it.
Speaking of your videos, from sunset-glazed equine
shots to line-dancing and rhinestone-embroidered
suits, they provide such a cinematic backdrop to your
country storytelling. What’s it like bringing your music
to the screen and how did you manage to choreograph
Cher the horse in Fix Me Up?
I just think filming music videos when you’re on a shoot
with a crew and you’ve got your friends involved as
extras is so fun. We filmed Fix Me Up at this lovely horseriding
centre in Clapton-in-Gordano just outside Bristol
on the way to Portishead – there was a really lovely
couple that ran it, and they were the sweetest. But with
Cher the horse, she was like, huge. I was quite scared
because she was just so done listening to my songs and
kept neighing really loudly and I was just holding her
reins thinking, ‘I’m gonna die’. But it was all fine and Cher
was an absolute star.
Your music marries country inflections with earworm
pop melodies, and you’ve even covered songs from the
likes of Lucinda Williams and Jackson C Frank for your
Covers & Others series. Where do these country heroes
come from? Is it something that was incubated growing
up around the plains of Gloucestershire?
My parents were really into their music and my dad
especially. He gave me music and brought me and my
brothers up on the classics like The Beatles, The Beach
Boys and Joni Mitchell, so I had a strong start and,
because I was listening to them from such a young age,
I was such a big fan. But in terms of the folk and country
stuff, I’ve always loved it and as I’ve got older and got
to know myself more – as we all do when we get older
– I’ve kind of just met certain people that have shown
me more of that kind of music. I really love Doc Watson,
Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank. In the darker days of
lockdown, their music was a very safe bubble to retreat
to. Lucinda Williams is the most fantastic, too, and I
actually didn’t hear of her until I got signed to Heavenly.
Jeff [Barrett, founder] came down and said, ‘Oh, you
sound like Lucinda Williams,’ and I was like, ‘Who’s that?’
And I listened to her and that was it – I just loved it!
You’re set to stop by Widnes Library as part of your
tour. How hopeful are you of returning to the live circuit
in general, and how does playing in a library sound?
I feel more hopeful than I did before. I think all of us who
create music – and music fans in general – are just quietly
hopeful. But we’ve got to go ahead with it now otherwise
the music industry will just disintegrate. People really
need live music. This album has been out for quite a while
now and I haven’t played it live to people who have heard
it, so I think performing in these new places and venues
that I haven’t been to before in front of people that know
my music is going to feel so crazy. We’ve all been in our
own little bubbles, so to have a live crowd enjoying it is
going to be a really special thing. !
Interview: Matthew Berks / @Hewniverse_
Photography: Seren Carys
Katy J Pearson plays Widnes Library on 6th June. Return
is available now via Heavenly Recordings.
@katyjpearsonband
40

FESTIVAL
AND
FESTIVAL
27/05-11/07
Various Locations + Online
Exploring the flows of shipping, energy and political
power structures on our waterways through
installations, augmented reality, film screenings,
workshops, performances and more, Abandon
Normal Devices Festival has returned to disrupt, provoke
and reflect. The 2021 edition of the festival will utilise the
fertile settings of the River Mersey and Manchester Ship
Canal to invite audiences to consider how our way of living is
affecting the world around us.
The experimental arts festival has a sprawling
programme of live and online activity, with commissions from
artists from all over the world. Augmented reality seascapes,
immersive voyages and floating laboratories as well as
online artworks, film screenings, performances, talks and
workshops will take place from 27th May until 11th July.
American composer KALI MALONE brings an immersive
audio experience to Birkenhead’s Central Hydraulic Tower.
Does Spring Hide Its Joy was created and recorded at
MONOM in the empty Berlin Funkhaus during the first
lockdown and will be presented as a four-day multichannel
sound installation in the 19th century tower in the heart of
the Birkenhead docklands.
Liverpool born artist YAYA BONES and 3D visual artist
aio0o0o0 present a live audiovisual broadcast which reflects
a childhood on the Mersey shores. The work combines
operatic siren calls and technological earth beats with
undulating meditative dunes for a thought-provoking
performance on 26th June.
Bidston Observatory host an open air cinema on the
weekend of 2nd July. Theo Anthony’s experimental film
All Light Everywhere features in the programme for a live
cinema event that reckons with our industrial past and offers
prophetic glimpses of what is to come.
Connecting the port cities of Rotterdam and Liverpool,
Dutch collective New Emergences present Weedweavers on
the 9th July. Taking inspiration from cutting-edge research
into algae forms conducted by a group of formidable women
on Merseyside in the early 20th century, the workshop and
live event explores feminist and non-traditional science
practices, as well as myths, recipes and stories. The event is
led by artists Angeliki Diakrousi and mariëlle verdijk.
Taking place onboard the Mersey-built vessel the
Daniel Adamson, By The Sounds Of Things is an immersive
audiovisual experience which invites audiences to feel the
epic scale of the modern shipping industry. The installation
will reflect the disruption of man-made ship noise on the
marine eco-system with hypnotic binaural soundwork and
a film which juxtaposes the extraordinary and the banal
realities of the global sea trade.
Elsewhere on the festival programme there are New
Cinema Shorts reflecting the year’s theme, artist Anita
Fontaine updates the conventional river tour with a future
fairytale presentation aboard the Mersey Ferry and, over
in Ellesmere Port’s National Waterways Museum, WetLab
allows creative minds to explore the rivers and canals with
workshops, experiments and discussion. Go to the AND
website to see more of the nautical programme.
Central Hydraulic Tower, Birkenhead
Bidston Observatory
Central Hydraulic Tower, Birkenhead
New Emergences, Weedweavers
PREVIEWS
41

PREVIEWS
GIG
VLURE
15/06 - Future Yard
Vlure
Hotly-tipped Glasgow five-piece VLURE make their Merseyside debut
with a socially distanced show at Future Yard. The post-punk noisemakers
dropped single Shattered Faith on Permanent Creeps records in
2020 and promise to continue their ascent with a confronting mélange
of synthy hooks, dub sensibilities and forthright lyrics. Future Yard has a
comprehensive social distancing policy offering a safe experience to giggoers
as the last of the Covid restrictions remain. These shows precede
a busy season of gigs commencing at the venue in August.
CLUB
Sasha
25/06 - Invisible Wind Factory
After the success of the Bramley Moore Dock pilot test shows, Circus continue to make up for lost time with a special night at Invisible Wind Factory this month. House stalwart
SASHA headlines with a four-hour set, with locals JAMES ORGAN and LAUREN LO SUNG reliably bringing the beats in support. Taking place across the two floors of the venue,
LOLIFE and SIAN BENNETT also join the party. North Wales native SASHA has an international reputation but has sustained ties with the North West, making this the ideal
booking as we emerge from lockdown onto the dancefloor.
ONLINE
Stock Footage
27/05-08/07 - Kazimier Stockroom
Dialect - Photo: Andrew Ellis
A TV show with a difference is being broadcast from the Kazimier
Stockroom. Live sets from local artists such as STEALING SHEEP, PODGE
and THE ALEPH is coupled with chat and games for Stock Footage, an
internet series due to begin on 27th May. Feature artist in issue 113 of Bido
Lito! DIALECT is the opening act to feature on the show. The sound artist,
whose latest album Under~Between is winning rave reviews, will play a set
and answer questions about his artistic process and more. Episodes of the
show will be broadcast weekly online into July.
EXHIBITION
The Last Bohemian: Augustus John
Until 30/08 - Lady Lever Art Gallery
This brand-new exhibition showcases around 40 works by one
of Britain’s most iconic and controversial artists. Having moved to
Liverpool in 1901, the new exhibition explores his time in the city
which greatly influenced his life and career. Often described as
bohemian, John’s paintings were uncompromising and famously
captured the true character and personality of each sitter. Taking the
spotlight, Lord Leverhulme’s infamous ‘beheaded’ portrait examines
the extraordinary events that provoked Lever to destroy his own
portrait and when leaked to the press, caused outrage and protests.
Augustus John
42

THEATRE
Y’MAM: Young Man’s Angry Movements
16-26/06 - Everyman Theatre
In an incongruous combination, Majid Mehdizadeh’s solo show fuses spoken
word, music and movement with an examination of modern masculinity.
Y’MAM (Young Man’s Angry Movements) is an autobiographical exploration
of the anger, anxieties and fantasies that provide the foundation for toxic
masculinity. The play will run at the Everyman from 16th to 26th June,
inviting audiences to consider the cultural pressures that create modern
men and the love required to overcome them.
Y’MAM
FESTIVAL
Liverpool Biennial 2021 - Second Chapter
Until autumn – Various venues
Liverpool Biennial continues its diverse roster of multidisciplinary art as it finally opens the full exhibition programme for the 11th edition, The Stomach and the Port. Curated by
Manuela Moscoso, the UK’s biggest contemporary visual arts festival will see nine lead venues – including Lewis’, FACT and Bluecoat – showcase up to 50 artists’ interpretations
of the body and their experiences of being in the world. On 27th May and 17th June, the festival’s Liquid Club events continue with New York-based artist Xaviera Simmons and
Daniel Steegmann Mangrané, who will explore the working practices of society and the sounds of the Brazilian rainforest respectively. Advanced booking is recommended, with
one ticket per visitor, per venue required for visiting multiple Liverpool Biennial exhibitions at different venues.
GIG
Rachel Newton
25/06 - Storyhouse, Chester
Musically combining the past and the present, singer and harpist RACHEL NEWTON incorporates ancient poems and ballads into her contemporary sounds and compositions,
creating a rich and experimental melodic folklore. In June, Newton presents her most recent album To The Awe at Storyhouse, an auditory exploration of the female experience
throughout history. The record is a tribute to the women who have inspired Newton throughout her life and reflects her recent work around the representation of women in the
music industry. Pieced together throughout lockdown, with vocals recorded in Newton’s bedroom wardrobe, To The Awe will finally receive the audience it deserves.
GIG
Rossa Murray & The Blowin’ Winds
5/06 - The Atheneum
Rossa Murray & The Blowin’ Winds
In the grand and unusual surrounds of Liverpool’s Athenaeum newpromoters-on-the-scene
Bed and Breakfast host two hugely promising
talents with ROSSA MURRAY & THE BLOWIN’ WINDS and LYDIAH.
The socially distanced and seated show is part of a series of gigs taking
place around the city, all in venues away from the beaten track. Alt folk
rock favourite Rossa headlines this June show having picked up a name
for himself over recent years. Emerging star Lydiah is also winning
many fans with her captivating performances. It’s a line-up that is
fitting for the plush environs of the iconic venue.
PREVIEWS 43

REVIEWS
Rashid Johnson, Stacked Heads, 2020. - Photo: Mark McNulty
Liverpool Biennial 2021
Multiple venues, Liverpool – until
27/06
LIVERPOOL BIENNIAL has contributed to some of
the city’s most well-known pieces of art: Peter Blake’s
Everybody Razzle Dazzle (2015), Jaume Plensa’s
Dream (2009) and Antony Gormley’s Another Place
(2005). It has garnered international recognition as one
of the UK’s largest contemporary art festivals, attracts
visitors from around the world, and has made great
strides in upholding the city’s cultural reputation. Yet,
while its former artworks are well established in the
cultural geography of Liverpool, there have remained
questions where the Biennial itself has truly been able
to do the same – to fully connect with the city and its
people, and balance international appeal with a distinctly
Liverpudlian identity.
In recent editions, Liverpool Biennial has faced
criticism locally over its failure to incorporate the city in
a meaningful way; to drop pretensions, reach out to the
local communities, and make it earn its title of being the
‘Liverpool’ Biennial. However, this particular ire is not
directed at other events that tout Liverpool in the title,
nor are other events expected to show a distinct link to
Liverpool itself. So why does the Biennial have so much
to answer to?
The theme for the 2021 Biennial, The Stomach and
the Port, seems to suggest a conscious decision had
been made to make Liverpool’s context take center stage
in the curation of this year’s festival. Originally set for
2020, the theme explores the concept of the body, of
porosity and transmission, and of kinship and identity.
How different would the notions of our bodies be had we
not experienced a pandemic that turned our own bodies
against us, and isolated our bodies, and denied us the
primitive need for touch. And how have the masses of
bodies coming together in protest changed our notions
of not just our own, but the bodies of other people; dead
bodies; of George Floyd’s body, and Sarah Everard’s
body?
These are global conversations, but the city’s identity
is not swamped by their magnitude. It instead localises
them and humanises them. Liverpool’s maritime history
as a major port; its role in globalisation and colonialism;
the uneasy truth that the city owes its wealth to the slave
trade; its diaspora communities and own strong sense
of identity. Even with themes of kinship and identity, the
festival seems to have addressed the suggestions of
their own lack thereof within Liverpool, albeit possibly
unwittingly.
One look at the festival’s route map shows the very
conscious decision to feature Liverpool’s spaces outside
of the usual four white walls of its art galleries. To see
44

Invernomuto & Jim C. Nedd, GRITO – Las Brisas de Febrero, 2021. Cotton Exchange Building - Photo: Rob Battersby
the entire programme, you must walk through every
corner of the city and in doing so you are immersed in its
context: the docks, the Georgian Quarter, the Ropewalks
– their history, what that history represents and their
roles in the formation of the city. At times, the context
overwhelms the art. Yael David’s Wingspan of the
Captive (2021) at Central Library is almost diminished
by the grandeur of the room itself, and the surrounding
displays of material that inspired the work – the rich 19th
century illustrations of American birds by J. J. Audubon
and letters from the Hornbys, the Liverpool family the
room was named after – make the sculpture itself look
more like an accompaniment to the collection, designed
to complement, rather than a work born independently
of inspiration.
At other times, the city and the art meld so
seamlessly that it is a wonder that the piece had not
sprung from the very spot it stands. Rashid Johnson’s
Stacked Heads (2020) is one such work. Set in the
Albert Dock, the two bronze ‘heads’ are covered in
etchings of the abstract faces from Johnson’s Anxious
Men series, with yucca and cacti plants positioned to
look as though they had grown organically, as though the
sculpture had always been there. The piece encourages
contradictions: the plants are not indigenous but can
survive the harsh saline winds that never seem to drop
along the docks; it fits with the other metal sculptures
in the area – the statue of a dock horse, a propeller from
the RMS Lusitania, old railway machinery – but its crude
style and totem pole form makes it seem foreign, almost
tribal. When first opened to the public, its positioning
next to the temporarily installed rainbow bridge made
it appear small and unassuming despite its ten feet,
experienced as something you have passed every day,
made inconsequential by its familiarity, imbued with
a faded permanence as something that has and will
always be there.
If the uneasy co-existence of nativeness and
foreignness is a muted whisper in Johnson’s piece, then
it is an unbridled scream in Invernomuto & Jim C. Nedd’s
Grito – Las Brisas de Febrero (2021) at the Cotton
Exchange. The visit itself feels climactic, as the building
is rarely open to the public. The art is displayed in the
basement, underneath the modern, recently regenerated
offices, where it is old and cold, with empty rooms full
of peeling paint, moulded cracked windows, exposed
woodwork and metal chains hanging from the ceiling.
Through the rooms, in front of four empty white plastic
chairs, a large screen plays footage of a pico competition
– street parties where neon-painted sound systems go
head to head playing records – in the Colombian village
of Palenque. The film is a celebration of culture, of
kinship, and plays almost in defiance of the building it is
being played in. The vibrancy, sound and movement of
the bodies on screen contrasts harshly with the empty
dereliction of the building so much so that a strange
sensation of jealously emits from the walls, as though
REVIEWS
45

REVIEWS
haunted, not by people, but by the death of the cotton
industry, the slave trade, by its own former prosperity,
now decaying, and watching from the four empty white
plastic chairs the freedom and life of the bodies on
screen.
With both pieces, the city’s identity reforms the
work and, in turn, the works both react to and reform
the city’s spaces that they are in. There are plenty of
further pieces in the festival that are worth viewing
– Ane Graff, Jes Fan and Pedro Neves Marques in the
Lewis’s Building and Kathleen Ryan at the Bluecoat –
but where the Biennial really succeeds is where it has
utilised Liverpool’s spaces and contexts. However, it
is still clear that there is some disconnection between
the curators, the artists and the city. Linder’s Bower of
Bliss (2020) in Liverpool ONE is supposedly a Dadaesque
photocollage tribute to Liverpudlian women, yet
the only recognisably Liverpudlian elements – nestled
next to anatomical drawings of hands and pictures of
lizards – are the overly-tanned smiling woman and the
top half of a seagull. But the festival isn’t about Liverpool,
and it isn’t necessarily for Liverpool, and there will
always be a baseline level of highbrow thinking with
any contemporary art event that simply does not fit
with the levity of the Scouse wit. Will an internationallyled
festival ever fully connect to a city whose sense of
identity, and pride, and protectiveness of that identity,
is as strong as Liverpool’s? Perhaps not. But this year’s
incarnation is a step in the right direction, and one the
city can stomach. !
Emma Varley
Emma took part in Bido Lito!’s Bylines writers
programme, developing young culture writers of the
future. Bylines runs throughout the year for more
information and to find out about the next intake go
to bidolito.co.uk/workshops
“At times, the city
and the art meld
so seamlessly that
it is a wonder that
the piece had not
sprung from the
very spot it stands”
46

Independents Biennial 2021
Online + various venues – until 06/06
Linder, Bower of Bliss , 2021. - Photo: Mark McNulty
Currently in its 22nd year, Liverpool Independents Biennial is a festival which celebrates
the art and artists of Liverpool City Region and aims to shine a light on how people make, see
and interact with art.
Instead of focusing on outcomes, it works without a theme, highlighting how ideas
can form and change at any time and point in the creative process. Art in Liverpool, the
programme’s coordinators, describe the Independents Biennial more as a R&D programme
than solely an (online) exhibition. They say that “one of the biggest challenges facing visual
art organisations this year has been presenting context, and contextualising presentation”. By
creating transparency regarding ideas, work, processes, progress and things not working out,
they are trying to address this.
There are various ways to learn about and engage with this approach, including online
workshops and conversations, as well as a public Google Drive folder that gets updated
constantly. You can follow work as it happens and are encouraged to get involved at any time.
Working in residence as part of the Independents Biennial myself, I spend a lot of time
engaging with artists and audience, trying to document the festival with my practice (which is
mainly writing, but also chaos).
I join the Zoom workshop Make Your Own Portal, created and led by artists Grace Collins
(they/them) and George Gibson (she/they) to explore time travel, portals and bookmaking.
We’re getting taught how to turn a
piece of paper into a 16-page zine
and are given prompts to fill the pages
however we like. It is interesting to see
the other six participants work and
notice the differences in style, working
pace and approaches regarding having
the same resources.
Fiona Stirling also works with the
theme of time. She is an artist and
mother, researching the impact of time
and space on painting practices. She
uses the terms “painting ad hoc” and
“inbetweener painting” to describe
the process of painting in between
other jobs or responsibilities. This
feels especially relevant as, due to
“It is chaotic,
always changing
and never finished;
an accumulation
of ideas, things,
words, experiences
and processes”
lockdowns, the borders between work, other responsibilities and self-care are still blurry, if
even existent.
The need to find new ways of working and feels more existential than a year ago. During
a conversation on Twitch with artists Sam Venables, Feiyi Wen and Montse Mosquera, festival
director Patrick Kirk-Smith and responsive programme coordinator at Open Eye Gallery,
Sorcha Boyle, Patrick wants to know if there has been a shift in how work is created and
presented compared to a year ago. Feiyi Wen shares something that I really like: the way
she works is flexible and she is embracing fluidity; especially in a time when everything is
standing still, it feels freeing to have things that are not fixed and can be moved.
After virtual events and conversations, I am excited to be able to go to an actual space
to see GROUND: an exhibition by artists John Elcock, Julie Lawrence Paul Mellor and Sarah
Jane Richards in Cass Art Liverpool. The artists are using paper-based media to explore
wilderness, empty landscapes and distant horizons while looking at the seasons, changing
light, patterns of nature and weather. It is captivating to look at the colours and images
others have noticed on their countless walks. I enjoy Sarah’s Walks In Wild Places and John’s
Swifts Feeding for their sense of liberation and draw to nature. A small point, but the works
could benefit from being exhibited in a bigger space. More room around each work gives
the audience the possibility to focus on one thing at a time without having as much in their
peripheral vision.
The threads I notice running through the programme are connection and collective
understanding. Even though everyone’s approach and practice differ, sharing one’s process
feels both vulnerable and brave and seeing others do the same wakes feelings of belonging
and being supported. Everybody has different experiences, but they are connected in some
way and all the work carries the wish to understand and be understood more.
A difficult thing I found is trying to reach people who are not already in the ‘art-bubble’,
knowing about the festival anyway. It would have been extremely interesting to see the
audience in the physical space in North Liverpool would we have been allowed to open. I do
hope that will be possible next time.
Nevertheless, Liverpool Independents Biennial fits into the current situation perfectly.
It is chaotic, always changing and never finished; an accumulation of ideas, things, words,
experiences and processes that are in some way or other shared and connected.
Jo Mary Watson / @JoMaryWatson
REVIEWS 47

FUTURE YARD
75 ARGYLE STREET
SOCIALLY-DISTANCED
LIMITED CAPACITY
SHOWS
RECONNECT
RAFE’S DILEMMA + NOT NOW CHARLIE
VLURE BLACK COUNTRY, NEW ROAD
FESTEVOL CHARTREUSE SUPER COOL
SOLD-OUT
SOUND CHECK PRESENTS
THE TOSIN TRIO + BEIJA FLO +MC NELSON
SOLD-OUT
DRAWING MACHINE
THE TURBANS
BLANKETMAN SHIPWRECKED
FUTURE NOW
FEATURING MARIE DAVIDSON & L’ŒIL NU SCALPING
MELT TWO-D YOURSELF A DOWN Y FESTIVAL TOM RAVENSCROFT A S IN (DJ) DOOR + MORE AND
SONIC BOOM MR BEN & THE BENS
PENELOPE TRAPPES
NUBIYAN TWIST
VIRGINIA WING CAROLINE ORCHESTRAL
MANOEUVRES IN THE DARK
VANISHING
TWIN HENGE BDRMM HANYA
ISLANDMAN
ATHLETIC PROGRESSION
TOKKY HORROR
WESLEY GONZALEZ
PONGO
LEIFUR
JAMES KEEP DANCING INC BIRKENHEAD
FUTUREYARD.ORG

IS BACK!
30th July
MONKS
A Lesser Version
+ more TBA
Future Yard
30th September
IAMKYAMI
Seagoth
Furry Hug
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ENTRY FOR
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MEMBERS
Kazimier Stockroom
3rd December
SPQR
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Torture and the
Desert Spiders
Future Yard
bidolito.co.uk/
whats-on

Tara Finney Productions
in Tara association Finney Productions with Hull Truck Theatre present
in association with Hull Truck Theatre present
THE THE GREATEST PLAY
IN IN THE THE HISTORY OF
THE WORLD...
BY BY IAN IAN KERSHAW KERSHAW
Directed Directed by by Raz Raz Shaw Shaw
Starring Starring Julie Julie Hesmondhalgh
Independent
Evening Standard
The Stage
The Stage
Edinburgh
Award
2018
The Herald
WhatsOnStage
Broadway World
A A universal love story, that shows the
human race race in in all all its its glorious messiness,
confusion and and joy. joy.
Tues 29 Jun - Sat 3 July 2021
Tues 29 Jun - Sat July 2021
Williamson Square, Liverpool L1 1EL
Williamson Square, Liverpool L1 1EL
everymanplayhouse.com
everymanplayhouse.com
Originally produced in association
with Originally Royal produced Exchange Theatre in association
with Royal Exchange Theatre

ARTISTIC
LICENCE
This month’s selection of creative writing comes from Felix
Mufti-Wright, a poem inspired by a youth playing The Sims and
finding a simulated love in the grim reaper.
i married the grim reaper
as the raindrops coat r skin,
we walk through 2 the scene of the sin,
the tree tops block r vision from things we don’t want 2
see,
u tell me u have friends in high places,
theres so many things we could see.
the branches of the trees kiss the surface of my face,
as my little legs struggle to keep up with ur 6 foot 2
pace,
dont know if its u or the cold air thats making my heart
race.
the clouds start to clear as the sun goes down,
u ask me what i wanna be doing when the night comes
around.
i say ‘i really miss the stars,’
u say u know a place we can see some.
u grab my hand even tho my fingers r numb,
we set up a blanket in a clearing in the trees,
can hear ur heart beats symphony mingling with the
breeze,
u light up a spliff,
i say ‘save us ends please?’
not sure if i see smoke or warm breath in the cold air,
not sure how comfy i am laying against ur shoulder.
ngl,
i dont think we’ll know eachother when we’re older.
we try to make a fire but all we get is a smoulder.
if i tell u how i feel in a forest and no one is around to
hear it,
did it ever really happen?
doesn’t feel like this should be happening.
is this really happening?
but u do look so cute when the moonbeams hit your
face,
as u whisper in my ear that it was so nice to get away.
it feels nice to get out the city,
im still scared of the quiet
but know u’d never let anyone hurt me.
u pull out ur blade
and ur flask thats filled with whiskey.
i dont know how to say with my mouth that i want u to
hold it to my neck
scar me in a way ill never be able to forget
i say i love it when u chat shit
and carry on like its philosophic.
u say u love it when its toxic,
when we’re poisoning each other from the inside out
is this what that’s about
u take my tongue right out my mouth
cant say anything
can just taste the drought
ive channeled my destruction
in2 ur finger tips
let it release more from my body
than i let pass my lips
i try and take ur hood down
u shrug it back up
u dont wanna look in my eyes
u heard it makes u fall in love
the way u think hurts me head
makes me wonder where to tread
say u only come to people who think of death
want them to say ur name with their last breathe
askin me if im ready 2 transcend
askin me if im ready for my beauty 2 be ethereal,
telling me i knew my fate when i picked him as my
boyfriend,
telling me i couldnt get this comfort from anything
material
ur in my bloodstream,
not just on my skin,
the connection we have cuts deeper,
thats what i get for falling in love with the grim reaper
Felix Mufti-Wright / @felixmufti
54

THE FINAL
SAY
“Die-hard fans
are the backbone
of the music
industry”
Queuing endurance and crash barrier dedication, Tilly Foulkes
celebrates the power of fan communities which will be restored
in tangible form as live music makes its long-awaited return.
In 2016, a week before my 18th birthday, I woke
up at 4.30am. My mum, lovingly yet begrudgingly,
drove me to the nearest station so I could catch the
earliest train to Manchester. I arrived at Deansgate
at 7.30am, got extremely lost, got a Greggs and asked
for directions, then finally found the old Gothic chapel
that is the Albert Hall. I sat outside the entrance for 10
hours – in the bitterly cold December rain – to secure a
spot at the barrier to see Peter Doherty. I was the first
person in the queue, and the only one there until midday,
when a Swedish girl arrived and explained she’d booked
weeks off work in order to follow Doherty on tour. It
wasn’t the first time she’d done this.
It was the first time I’d see him, but far from
the last. After setting up the silver fences and ushering
everyone behind them, security sat and spoke to
me about waiting. He said he’d ensure I’d get to the
very front. When you fall into diehard fandom – for
me, this was born out of my Tumblr dashboard and
Twitter timeline – the barrier becomes a symbol of your
dedication. It’s the best spot in the house; you can sling
your coat over it, there’s more room to dance and you can
pester security for loads of cups of water. It also works
as a gateway to getting the most cherished trophy of the
night – the setlist. It’s the prize for you bunking school
and freezing yourself half to death on the pavement.
It’s a long-lasting souvenir that seemingly hasn’t lost its
value through decades of fandom. My own mother has
heaps of scrapbooks with setlists and ticket stubs stuck
in them.
The queue, however, is the most important part for
any fan community. I spent a lot of my teenage years
queuing for gigs. I met all kinds of people I otherwise
wouldn’t have; many of whom would go on to become
my closest friends, even if we only get together twice a
year.
The day would start off with a nervous ‘hello’ to a
group of strangers, but soon enough you’re swapping
snacks and stories about the previous times you’ve seen
the band, or your favourite albums. The ‘older’ fans,
who’d queued before – usually women in their early to
mid-20s – would welcome you in, feed you water and
nip over to Starbucks or Spar to get coffee and crisps. It’s
a rite of passage in some fan circles. It’s your initiation
into the group. When you are a fan of a band that has
a particularly cultish following, the queue is where you
find your tribe. They are, for the most part, welcoming,
friendly and homely.
The camaraderie of the queue would be impossible
without the people who devote their days to supporting
an artist. This is mostly young women and teenage girls.
When I would queue for the Manic Street Preachers at
age 15, the women in their early-20s would always take
me under their wing for the evening. They became my
protector from creeps in the crowd and were meticulous
in their checking that I was both hydrated and could see
James Dean Bradfield. There’s a real sense of solidarity
between us girls that spend days upon days waiting
around, and a real sense of affinity.
The die-hard fans are the backbone of the music
industry. Without their unwavering dedication, we’d
never have had bands like The Beatles being spurred into
success. It’s the teenage girls spending their last pennies
on merchandise and streaming songs non-stop that are
holding up the industry on pure love and devotion. Rest
assured, if an artist has a following of teenage girls,
they will do everything in their power to ensure that
artist is successful. Teenage girls are shamed for their
commitment to their idols – even more so when they
support pop icons like One Direction or Justin Bieber. I
don’t think they should be. There is truly no greater force
than a crowd of teenage girls. I think their devotion to
music is inspiring and something to be cherished. I’m
eager to defend this community with every strength I
have, and I’m proud to be in it: it’s a community based
entirely on shared love and admiration for art.
With the perpetual hope that the pandemic is finally
coming to an end, I can’t wait to share plastic cups with
strangers before screaming some half-garbled chorus
with them. It’s this community of music fans I’ve missed
the most. I’m looking forward to the delight of live music,
certainly the elated shouting and the overpriced rum and
cokes. But, mostly, I’m excited to return to my spot on
the barrier, bump into the familiar faces, give them a hug
and ask them what they’ve been up to, because it really
has been too long. !
Words: Tilly Foulkes / @tillyfoulkes
Photography: John Johnson / @John.Johno
Tilly took part in Bido Lito!’s Bylines writers programme,
developing young culture writers of the future. Bylines
runs throughout the year for more information and to
find out about the next intake go to
bidolito.co.uk/workshops.
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