Bido Lito! Magazine | Issue 114 | June 2021

ISSUE 115 / JULY 2021
NEW MUSIC + CREATIVE CULTURE
LIVERPOOL
FREE!
SPINN
Looking on the
bright side
IAMKYAMI
MONKS
VASILY
PETRENKO
FOOTBALL
THERAPY

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DJ SET
SAT 24TH JULY
FREE ENTRY

ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYERS ALL DAYER ALL
EVOL presents
FESTEVOL
INVISIBLE WIND FACTORY LIVERPOOL
SATURDAY 7TH AUGUST 2021
SATURDAY 14TH AUGUST 2021
PART 1
KELLY LEE OWENS • WORKING MEN'S CLUB
STEALING SHEEP • TEA STREET BAND • IST IST
THE NINTH WAVE • WALT DISCO • BUZZARD BUZZARD BUZZARD • ODD MORRIS • PIXEY • WHITE FLOWERS • SKIA • HAARM
THE DSM IV • PODGE • EYESORE & THE JINX • SILENT-K • PSYCHO COMEDY • RONGO RONGO • HONEY MOTEL • ORANJ SON
MAIN ROOM DJS: JADE LI • BEAR GROWLS GARDEN DJS: KATIE OWEN • MRPAUL • LIQUIDATION SOUNDSYSTEM
PART 2
THE BIG MOON • THE ORIELLES • BLACK HONEY
SELF ESTEEM • LUCIA & THE BEST BOYS • BIG JOANIE
PINS • PHOEBE GREEN • TRUDY & THE ROMANCE • HOLY YOUTH MOVEMENT • AVERAGE SEX • THE PEACH FUZZ • ALI HORN • GEN AND THE DEGENERATES • BOBBY WEST
ZEE DAVINE • BEIJA FLO • MICHAEL ROBERT MURPHY • SKY VALLEY MISTRESS • SPILT • THE MERCHANTS • HANNAH'S LITTLE SISTER
MAIN ROOM DJS: JADE LI • BEAR GROWLS GARDEN DJS: JAGZ KOONER • KATIE OWEN • TOKKY HORROR • LIQUIDATION SOUNDSYSTEM • JIMMY ALLEN
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FEATURES
11 / SPINN
Lily Blakeney-Edwards charts the continuing evolution of
Spinn and chats to the indie band about looking on the
bright side.
14 / IAMKYAMI
In a new space, iamkyami is thriving as she speaks to
Orla Foster.
18 / MONKS
With an 80s soundtrack and a collaboration giving them
a new lease of life, Monks deserve your attention.
20 / FOR THE LOVE OF IT
An exhibition of musicians’ artistic side-hustles gives
Cath Holland licence to speak to Richard Dawson, Cerys
Matthews and others about their creative motivations.
22 / A CULTURAL SHIFT
Can art and culture on Merseyside lead the green
revolution?
24 / VASILY PETRENKO
Stuart Miles O’Hara speaks with Vasily Petrenko ahead of
the maestro’s final concerts after 15 years at the helm of
the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic.
26 / A CITY OF VILLAGES
Author James Corbett wrestles with Liverpool’s varying
definitions of identity and belonging with his new novel
The Outsiders.
28 / HEADS UP
Matthew Berks explores the work behind Liverpool
Football Therapy, a football programme helping to save
lives through early intervention.
REGULARS
8 / NEWS
All the projects, initiatives and announcements
you need to know about in our region’s new
music and creative cultural sphere.
10 / HOT PINK
Our monthly selection of new tracks takes us
beyond the Summer Solstice, helped by Ruby
Walvin, Dead Nature, JVCK and more.
32 / SPOTLIGHTS
Introducing spoken word trailblazer Starkey The
Messenger and synth pop queens The Let Go.
34 / PREVIEWS
July may have heralded a false start but there’s
still plenty going on. We speak to The Lovely
Eggs and preview some of the best exhibitions,
gigs and festivals.
38 / REVIEWS
Our reviewers are back in the room for sociallydistanced
shows from Shame and Wyldest,
as well as reports from Reconnect festival and
more.
46 / ARTISTIC LICENCE
Megan Walder’s ode to the venue teases the
return of live music and all its small-moment
intricacies we took for granted.
47 / FINAL SAY
Conal Cunningham weighs up the challenges
that greet our new mayor as she gets to work
after her election victory.
6

E D I T O R I A L
This editorial will sadly be my last as editor of Bido Lito!. After three
years, various roles and 27 print issues, I’ve made the difficult
decision that it’s time for something new. But, as the raison d’être
of Bido Lito! would forcibly state, new is good; new is challenging;
new is where we learn the most about ourselves and everything around
us – everything that has come before. New is far from a sad occasion. And
yet, knowing this does little to lessen the blow of departing.
Arriving at the magazine as a contributor four years ago, I was
somewhat of a late bloomer still trying to find my feet in journalism. In the
years before then, writing had never been something that came naturally
to me. I was never into books or reading. My opinions were often kept
to myself. I would tremble when punching the numbers in for a phone
interview. On the basis of evidence, I was never particularly cut out to be a
compelling writer or journalist (even at this stage, the jury is very much still
out).
As the years went by, I kept at it. I found myself reading regularly. I
pushed myself to write more. I started to be honest in what I was trying
to say – no longer trying to imitate writers and the output of those behind
successful Twitter handles. Perhaps, then, it was almost fate that I
eventually plucked up the courage and inquired about writing for Bido Lito!
– a magazine which carried much of the same DIY, self-taught credentials
that I now did. And what this somewhat self-indulgent paragraph is trying
to show, is that Bido Lito! remains and always will be an essential vehicle
for allowing people to be who they want to be. For people to achieve things
they didn’t think was possible. Giving the new their chance. Not just those
on the cover, but those who’re reflected back in the inky scrawl of each
issue. Those who capture the imagery that adorns the pink pages.
Bido Lito! has weathered some significant challenges in its 11-year
history. A quick Google search of how many local print music and culture
magazines are still in circulation will offer a clue as to the landscape it has
been up against. Launching in the tight grip of austerity in 2010, seeing
the social dynamic of a city rapidly change throughout the decade, a large
portion of my editorship was equally not without its challenges.
I was downbeat when facing the reality of being editor at the
beginning of the pandemic. In a cosmetic sense, lockdown would rob Bido
Lito! of what’s set it apart all of these years – the dedication to remaining a
print magazine. Knowing
this, I questioned the
value of what I, and the
rest of the team, could
achieve. But, as likely the
case with many people
during the early phases of
the first lockdown, I was
questioning a lot at this
point in time.
What’s important?
That’s the question that
constantly stood out.
It’s the question that
everything I would write
and commission would
look to answer in its own
specific way – irrespective
of having a magazine to showcase it. Ironically, Bido Lito! became more
important than it’s ever been at a time when it could not be printed and live
music was at a complete standstill. That phase is testament to what the
magazine stands for. When Liverpool, its artists, its communities needed
it most, it didn’t shirk responsibility. It took on questions it has no right
to answer. It campaigned. It platformed. It changed. I truly believe this. It
did what everything that strives to carry the independent torch should: it
showed us a new way of seeing, of being, of experiencing. It showed us
what Liverpool is, was and can be. Issue 75 of Bido Lito! proclaimed how
it still remained “the opposition” as it reached a new, slicker phase in its
existence. I think this is still the case as I sign off on my last magazine as
editor.
I’ve always hated endings for their helpless melancholy. I hate the
closing montage of televised football tournaments. I hate the last day
of a music festival. I hate the last episode of Friends. I don’t like things
coming to an end. However, I think drawing a line under something allows
what came before to shine under a new light. I hope that’s the case as I
indulgently bow out, here. It’s been a wild ride. I wouldn’t change a second
of it. Not even the last 16 months. Forza Bido. !
Special thanks to Craig, Chris and Sam for the opportunity and
continual belief.
Elliot Ryder / @elliot_ryder
Editor
“Bido Lito! took on
questions it has
no right to answer.
It campaigned.
It platformed. It
changed. I truly
believe this”
New Music + Creative Culture
Liverpool
Issue 115 / July 2021
bidolito.co.uk | @bidolito
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Words
Elliot Ryder, Sam Turner, Matthew Berks, El Gray,
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Garner, Mia O’Hare, Orla Foster, Stuart Miles
O’Hara, James Corbett, Megan Walder, Alice
Williams, Alastair Dunn, Alfie Verity, Slinky Malinky,
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Merchant, Conal Cunningham.
Photography, Illustration and Layout
Mark McKellier, Gary Lambert, Michael Kirkham,
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Jones, Daniel Pattman, Frankie Beanie, Darren
Aston, Kevin Barrett, Jennifer Bruce.
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publishers. All rights reserved.
EDITORIAL 7

NEWS
A WEEK WITH PINS
Callin’ all burgeoning 16 to 21-yearold
musicians based in the triangular
belt of Greater Manchester, Cheshire
and Merseyside! You can spend a
free five-day music residency with
Manchester punk triplet PINS where
you’ll get to experience the full cycle
of artistic production, from initial idea
to onstage transformation. Taking
place in-person at The Met in Bury
from 26th to 30th July, the week-long
creative collaboration project includes
recording your own EP, taking part in
a photoshoot and getting stuck into
artist imagery, with the opportunity
to develop your creative collaboration
skills before performing live with PINS
at the award-winning venue in Bury.
Applications for the residency, courtesy
of North West music charity Brighter
Sound, close 27th June.
brightersound.com
PINS
UN-CONVENTION
Reflecting, learning, adapting. The in-person 106th Un-Convention takes place at Manchester’s O2 Ritz on
8-9th July, assembling a mix of artists, organisations and professionals from across the independent music
spectrum. Looking back on how music scenes have adapted and the lessons we have learnt over the last year,
the convention will welcome the likes of FRANK TURNER, Radiohead’s ED O’BRIEN and Mogwai’s STUART
BRAITHWAITE, buttressed by a host of key industry protagonists joining the discussions. Greater Manchester
Metro Mayor ANDY BURNHAM will also be speaking, with celebrated poet TONY WALSH returning to the
event that will celebrate and bring together people at the coalface of independent music from across the UK.
unconventionhub.org
Un-convention
PRIDE MARCH ONLINE
To celebrate Pride month, LCR Pride Foundation are hosting a virtual march where
they are inviting individuals, groups and businesses to take part by submitting videos
and photos of themselves. This year they are encouraging those participating to
make pledges to support their 2021/22 theme ‘From Now On’. The organisation will
broadcast from their social media channels at midday on Saturday 31st July when the
physical march would usually take place. There will be videos of speeches from local
leaders and short interviews as well as individuals marching, cheering and holding
placards in their own homes. For those wishing to take part, they are asked to submit
a landscape photo or 20-second video of them celebrating by Wednesday 14th July.
lcrpride.co.uk
YOUTH MUSIC NEXTGEN FUND
Young musicians and those wanting to get a jump start on a career in the music
industry have a fantastic opportunity with Youth Music’s NextGen fund. The
fund is built for creatives with big ideas who need the money to make their
dreams a reality. Applications to NextGen close on 9th July and are open to 18
to 25-year-olds looking for grants of up to £2,500. Youth Music are looking
to support individuals who are the future of the music industries, so singers,
managers, rappers, A&Rs, producers and agents, right through to roles yet to be
defined, are possible candidates.
youthmusic.org.uk/nextgen/nextgen-fund
SONIC SYNTHESIS
North West label Rhythm Lab Records are celebrating the release of
a special compilation, Sonic Synthesis, which explores collaboration
between artists by inviting them to swap their recording stems to rework
each other’s tracks from a new perspective. Among the artists on the
mix are former Liverpool resident MICCO, electronic balladeer CALLUM
HULTQUIST and rapper LINTD. The project is all about bringing up new
voices in the music industry and giving them the experience, skills and
expertise to forge a path and create fabulous work like Sonic Synthesis on
the way.
Micco
rhythmlabrecords.com
8

Dawn Penn
MANDELA DAY
Nelson Mandela International Day returns on Saturday 18th July in honour of the anti-apartheid
revolutionary. Liverpool charity, Mandela8, are leading celebrations to promote awareness
and community cohesion across the City Region with their campaign My 67 Minutes. They’re
encouraging everyone to spend 67 minutes of their day – one minute for every year that
Mandela spent fighting for social justice – to pay it forward and do something for someone else
or their community. Over at Museum of Liverpool, the Liverpool 8 Against Apartheid exhibition
also tells the story of how the city’s Black community supported the anti-apartheid movement
of the 1980s through demos, product boycotts, the Free Nelson Mandela Campaign and more.
mandela8.org.uk
POSITIVE VIBRATION
There’s good news from the Baltic Triangle as Positive Vibration have
announced the legendary DAWN PENN as their festival headliner this year.
The reggae titan joins a fantastic cast of stars of the genre, with ASIAN DUB
FOUNDATION, MAD PROFESSOR and HOLLIE COOK all getting involved.
As well as a faultless music line-up there will also be family activities, panel
discussions and the Art of Reggae poster exhibition. All the action takes place
across Camp & Furnace, District, Hangar 34, 92 Degrees, YARD and New Bird
Street over the weekend of 10-11th September.
posvibefest.com
TONY PHILLIPS AT BLUECOAT
A sequence of etchings narrating key events from 1900 to present day, titled 12
Decades, are on display at the Bluecoat. Tony Phillips has focused his artwork on
pioneering inventions of the 20th century, with the main focus on flight. His work
highlights the contradictions between technological advancements and the reality
of our progress. Born in Liverpool, now living in Italy, Phillips has been working on
this study of modern history for the past 40 years. The exhibition will complement
Phillips’ new installation in the Bombed Out Church, with a trail of art between the
two venues.
thebluecoat.org.uk
THROUGH THE LENS OF MUSIC
The work of the region’s diligent music photographers is being celebrated at
a series of events this month. Local promoters Sumati, along with Lens Of A
Wool, are hosting exhibitions of work by local snappers at Bloom Building in
Birkenhead (3rd-9th July) and Liverpool’s Jacaranda (10th-17th July). Social
panels will also put the art and profession of music photography under a
microscope with guest speakers from Where Are The Girl Bands, Melodic
Distraction and Bido Lito! taking part. The events will create a platform for an
intrinsic element of our music ecosystem, an artform that is creative, inspiring,
emotional and skillful. The opening event at Bloom Building takes place at 4pm
on 3rd July. For more details, visit Sumati’s Facebook page (@sumatipresents).
WILLIAMSON REOPENS
After having their doors closed since March 2020 and encouraging art
enthusiasts to view collections online to stay involved, the Williamson Art
Gallery & Museum has reopened to visitors. Using viewers’ favourite pieces
from the online screenings, the new exhibition Your Williamson features
many paintings by artists with local connections, including two by the
recently deceased Geoff Yeomans. The artwork in this exhibition will be the
first gallery you visit as you enter using the one-way system, along with a
whole host of both new and previous favourite collections to enjoy.
williamsonartgallery.org
Williamson Art Gallery
NEWS 9

HOT PINK!
Words: Mia O’Hare and Shannon Garner
Follow Hot Pink! on Spotify: bit.ly/bidohotpink
Each issue we round up some of the best tracks from the region and add them to our Hot
Pink! playlist. This month we’ve got some psych legends, indie classics in the making, a dab of
electronica and one or two curveballs to enjoy.
Dead Nature
Watch Me Break Apart
This one-man band has hit the ground running with a fuzzed-up indie-pop track that
spills out Tarek Musa’s inner insecurities in a loud and brash way. From thoughts of
sleepless nights and the feeling of being isolated, Musa is brutally honest on this title
track from his debut album, but manages to keep it all upbeat, reminiscent of his old
band, Spring King. Musa is the producer, mixer, songwriter and musician under the
DEAD NATURE pseudonym, and nothing seems to hold him back. (MOH)
Ruby Walvin
Without You
Gliding effortlessly against the soft electric guitar and drumbeats, RUBY WALVIN’s
voice is transcendent. A sonic pot of honey with angelic backing vocals rolling off
her tongue to put the listener in a trance. With honest and raw lyrics, Without You
lays bare Walvin’s inner fear of living without someone in an impeccable way. From
insomnia worries, to reminiscing about the glory days, each element of the track
compliments the other for a listening delight. (SG)
All Trades
Punch Hole
The first track on ALL TRADES’ debut EP Theoretical Functions is the start of an
industrial house party or subterranean rave. The consistent punchy electronic beats will
vibrate through the floors and is enough to get you in the clubbing spirit. The haunting
build-up at the start of the track showcases the spontaneous programming and
terrifying power All Trades hold. (SG)
Murmurs
Not My Girl
MURMURS’ debut single echoes the sounds that rolled off the Mersey through the
rhythm and blues era of the 60s through to the Britpop takeover in the 90s. The jangly
rhythms of the guitar interplay with catchy melodies and the soft beat of the drum
lines, which are all fuelled by nostalgia. It’s evocative indie that gives a nod to all those
who came before. (MOH)
Rachel Nicholas
Sloth
Clinic
Fine Dining
CLINIC’s new single Fine Dining is a slice of dancefloor fun, combining the band’s love
of the exotic and having a good time. Full of pulsing synths and a repetitive disco drum,
the new track folds in a sense of 70s American fantasy drama that adds a poppier
element to the post-punk troupe’s distinctive sound. (SG)
The Letrasets
Wait
THE LETRASETS know how to write an indie-pop banger and this opener to EP Tiger
Sports Grandma is nothing but addictive. Full of catchy riffs and an upbeat chorus,
Wait is a track meant for screaming, sweaty crowds, which hopefully aren’t too far
away. The infectious melody is reminiscent of classic indie bands making it the perfect
soundtrack for summer. (SG)
JVCK
Feeds
Feeds is a calming and relaxing electronic indie track with JVCK’s soft, light vocals
coming in from the background to add an overriding sense of comfort. With a hint of
reverb on the electric guitar instrumental halfway through the track, the song is the
perfect number to wind down to. (SG)
The Peach Fuzz
Never Wanna See The Light
After splitting from their record label last year, THE PEACH FUZZ return with an upbeat
summer track to mark the start of new beginnings. The five-piece have perfectly
blended indie psych-pop with 80s influences to create a much-needed optimistic hit for
the sunny months ahead. (MOH)
Photography from left to right: Rachel Nicholas, The Peach Fuzz, Ruby Walvin, Dead
Nature
RACHEL NICHOLAS keeps you guessing in her new track. It has a little bit of
everything. From strings and piano to electric guitar, it is an enchanting mix of
various genres underneath musical theatre-like vocals to keep you on your toes. Sloth
continues to wrong-foot the listener with twists and turns and unpredictable time
signatures. (SG)
10

LOOKING ON THE
BRIGHT SIDE
On their new EP, SPINN loosen the roots to their established
sound but continue to search for the light within the dark.
FEATURE
11

S
P
IN
N
12

Conversations surrounding SPINN always go hand-in-hand
with tales of their chaotic charisma. Today, it still seems
like they’re feeling the effects of being up early and having
a camera lens aimed at their faces. It’s only after the
question “would you rather never cut your hair again, or your nails?”
is put forward that their infectious energy becomes abundantly clear.
It’s afternoon at the Baltic Fleet, and myself and the band are
huddled around a small wooden table. Pints in hand, Louis O’Reilly
(drums), Luke Royalty (guitar) and Sean McLachlan (bass) dive into
the conversation. Questions, quips and counterarguments erupt.
The debate becomes palpable across the lightly beer-soaked table.
“Is this just gonna be a would you rather? Should we just do that
instead [of the interview]?” says Johnny Quinn, the group’s frontman.
There’s a fleeting silence before a definite, decisive answer. “Teeth
for hair,” they all agree. “You could cut it all off! Be a bit of a painful
procedure, mind,” laughs Johnny.
The debate is continuing while the city slowly grinds into life
and an underlying sense of excitement emerges. It’s the weekend
of the much-awaited test events across Liverpool, and the first real
taste of live music in the UK as a whole. The buzz is restless and
addictive – feeding into Spinn’s animated tendencies wonderfully,
as they constantly pass compliments, insults and general chatter
between them. As we watch the early partygoers make their way to
the weekend’s events, the conversation turns to the city’s live scene.
It’s clear that the grind of getting established seems a world
away from the group now. However, with the closure of so many
of the city’s staple music venues, the emotional resonance sticks.
“Our first gig was The Zanzibar, but we also played Phase One and
Sound quite a bit. Smaller venues really are a home for upcoming
artists and so many of them are gone now, the community will have
to find new places again,” Luke reflects.
“I guess that’s just the nature of things though, isn’t it? The music
scene will always change,” Johnny chimes in. “When we started,
indie was just blowing up, but Liverpool was still full of psychedelia.
That’s died off slightly, and so has the indie scene. Everyone’s into
post-punk now, dressing in black and talking about England. When
something closes, it just ups space for new creations.”
Like the scene they grew up in, Spinn have gone through a
number of iterations throughout their career, with a number of
previous bandmates having departed from the group over the
years. “We played throughout the city when we were coming up,
it’s strange to see it changing,” notes Sean. “We played for a few
years, and then the old drummer quit to join the police. We soon
met Louis, though, while drunk in a bar. That was the proper start of
everything. We’ve gone in very different directions, mind.”
While the scene they came up in may be a thing of the past,
Spinn’s take on sun-kissed indie remains as prevalent as ever.
Epitomised by shimmery synths and lulling, heartfelt vocals, the
group’s music draws from the joy of old-school indie, while never
flinching from the trends of today. Though, as Louis explains, like the
band’s current line-up, it’s a sound that had to be carefully cultivated
over the last several years. “We spent years writing shoegaze music,
which, although a nice genre, didn’t fit with our style as a band at
all,” he explains. “It felt like one day it clicked and we started writing
pop tunes,” Johnny nods. “When everyone’s homing in on one
sound, only one or two bands will get big or ‘make it’ and, even then,
it’s just luck. That’s why current trends don’t tend to influence us
much. As far as we’re concerned, we just want to write pop music.”
Merging both past and contemporary influences, the group
quickly achieved success, releasing their self-titled album back
in 2018, to selling out Liverpool’s O2 Academy in 2019. Such
successes have seen them emerge as a type of modernised
boyband – epitomised by their dedicated fanbase and the band’s
constant online voice that blurs the lines between a fan-and-artist
relationship. But, as has become all too clear in recent months, the
directness of instant communication comes with its fears. “People
have tried to cancel us before, so it’s always a fear. We could
be called Spinn scum!” laughs Johnny. “We’re so lucky to have a
fanbase, but it is overwhelming at times, though, because it can all
change overnight. People try to find your personal info, like finding
you on Facebook and all,” he pauses. “It is cool though, it’s just about
balance.” Louis chimes in: “I’ve had some amazing convos with
people online. The other day I posted a picture of Penn and Teller
and got a full discussion going. We do look a lot like them though,
me and Luke,” he laughs. “We could support the band on tour!”
Fears of cancellation aside, the group’s charm and willingness
to adapt have led them to release a collection of kaleidoscopic popfuelled
offerings across their four-year journey. It’s an impressive
discography and yet, true to their ever-changing nature, the group
have their eyes on the horizon.
Their upcoming EP, Daydreaming, marks a new era for the
group, who are keen to show off changes in their sound to its fullest
extent. “We showcase different sides of ourselves on the EP,”
explains Louis. “There are tracks that are heavier, some dreamy indie
stuff and pure pop.”
“I’d also say we’re a bit more mature now, composition-wise.
The music we wrote at the beginning wasn’t bad, but we’ve
definitely improved the way we write,” Johnny admits. “On certain
tracks, we worked with four different producers to get it right. We
wanted to make sure the release was the best it could be.”
The energy of the EP is fuelled by unadulterated optimism,
as it bounces between genres and subject matters with blissful
ease. The Things She Says To Me deals with affection teetering on
sappy, as Quinn recites love-filled lyrics over a chiming acoustic
melody. “It really goes back to old-school Spinn, I think. It’s about
recommending books to your loved ones, proper wholesome,”
says Johnny. “I’ve got such a good feeling about that song,” Louis
discloses. “I just love a banger!”
While Daydreaming sees the band branch out, one thing that
remains central is the group’s saccharine demeanour. Even on the
title track – a song about unrequited love littered with echoing
guitar riffs and unstoppable drums – Spinn’s sweetness simmers
throughout, mellowing it entirely. This outlook could be taken as
part of the band’s natural charm. But as Johnny elaborates on his
songwriting process, it becomes clear that the air of positivity is a
deliberate, integral choice. “Recently, I’ve been trying to centre my
songwriting around positive affirmations. Even on tracks that deal
with darker stuff, I still want to create proper upbeat pop tracks,”
Johnny explains. “I think it works with our identity as a band. This EP
is as heavy as our sound gets and, even then, it’s still pretty boppy.”
Perhaps the track that feels most evolved from the group’s
origins is Billie, a melts-in-your-mouth offering that features
vocals by Christie Simpson of Yumi Zouma. True to indie-pop,
hazy synth leads dominate the track’s backing, while Simpson and
Quinn’s vocals add new-found textures for the group’s sound. “It’s
interesting to [hear] someone else’s vocals on it,” Johnny ponders.
“The structure of the track was there to begin with, but to have a
different harmony on it transformed it completely. We’ll definitely
move forward with stuff like that. Plus, she’s a proper lovely person,
so it was the best of both worlds really.”
“Johnny’s the only one who’s actually met
her though,” Luke quips. “So many people
think she was in the studio with us, like it
was Elton John and Kiki Dee on Don’t Go
Breaking My Heart.”
It’s afternoon now, and faces begin to
dominate the city streets. It’s a welcome
sight, although the newness of it doesn’t
escape anyone. It’s a stark contrast with
only a few weeks before and it ignites
a level of reflective thought in the band.
“Lockdown has really slowed down the
output of music,” Luke explains. “Live music
has always been the centre of releases for
most groups. You release a track in line with
doing gigs, the whole thing revolves around
live music. Even us, we only released one song last year and we had
to cancel shows. It’s as if nobody knows how to fathom it. I worry
it’ll be hard for new bands to find spaces to thrive. So much of live
music relies on ticket sales, that it will drive new bands out or make
it harder to get noticed.” There’s a pause, and then a final breath of
optimism. “But now that people are starting to write music again,
you don’t know what the next trend could be. People will hopefully
appreciate live music a bit more,” he smiles. “That translates to all
music – smaller artists hopefully, not just the bigger ones.” Johnny
dives in with a reminder: “Yeah, we are lucky we were established
beforehand because we have that security. I used to play loads of
gigs but never actually go to that many, which will obviously change
now. Though we’ve forgotten how to play everything anyhow,” he
smiles.
With the future so uncertain, questions of what’s next are
always hard to pin down. Spinn, however, remain ever enthusiastic
about their trajectory as a band. There’s an air of mischief that sits
between each of them, seemingly desperate to give away secrets
about what’s in store. “Really, we just wanna have fun, like Cindy
Lauper!” Johnny laughs, as the band agrees wholeheartedly. “We’re
just four young lads, we have our whole lives ahead of us. It’s been
pretty swell so far though.” It’s an admission that holds the weight of
Spinn’s accolades and brings an air of satisfaction that sits between
each member comfortably. “All we need now is a Wiki page,” he
declares, with a gleam in his eye. “That’s all I ever really wanted.” !
Words: Lily Blakeney-Edwards / @lilyhbee
Photography: Gary Lambert / @glamgigpics
Daydreaming is available from 30th June via Modern Sky.
@spinn_band
“It felt like one day
it just all clicked and
we started writing
pop tunes”
FEATURE
13

14

IAMKYAMI
Water, nurture and new space to thrive, Orla Foster tracks
the resilient journey of the singer-songwriter.
Maybe it was the Jacuzzi that was the final
straw. When the man upstairs decides he
needs to install a hot tub to entertain local
celebrities, that’s when you know the end is
nigh. For Kyami Russell, aka IAMKYAMI, it meant being
forced to wrap up her last days in Liverpool huddled in a
dank suburban bedroom, watching water cascade down
the walls while her neighbours splashed blithely overhead.
“Why a Jacuzzi, though? So boujie for no reason,”
she exhales. “It made everything so damp I had to throw
away all my clothes. After four months I was like, ‘Alright,
I’m out. I’m taking my shit and leaving’.”
It marked a slightly flat finish to her time in Liverpool,
where she’d been since 2017. But there’s nothing like
a damp bedroom to make you thirst for a fresh start, so
when Kyami finally did sling her hook, she headed for
Manchester instead. “I really did try to hold out as long
as I could in Liverpool,” she says.
What else could she have done, sit
and wait for the ceiling to collapse?
Before Liverpool and
Manchester, there was upstate New
York, where Kyami grew up, joining
her dad for local open mic nights
and envisioning a musical career
in the long run. But there was a
limit to how far she could progress
in the small city she called home,
even in a household overflowing
with music. As long as she stayed
there, she felt, she couldn’t really
grow.
“My dad and brother always produced music when
I was younger, but never taught me,” she reflects.
“Because subconsciously boys just assume girls can’t
produce music. I was always the singer and songwriter of
the house, but never the producer. So that’s what I wanted
to learn, when I was thinking of moving [to Liverpool].”
Not only that, the dubious honour of being voted
‘Most Unique’ by her classmates in high school was a
pretty strong indicator that her best years lay elsewhere.
“I stuck out. I always knew that I was different than
everyone else. But I didn’t think I was different in a bad
way, you know?”
But moving to the UK to enrol at LIPA wasn’t
the homecoming she dreamed of either. There, she
encountered a chorus line of wealthy classmates and
tutors mistily invoking past pupils who had gone on
to ghost-write mainstream hits. Her irritation at the
memory is palpable: “I’m like, ‘I don’t care about the Dua
Lipa song. Teach. Me. Something’.” What the experience
ended up teaching her was to get the hell out of stage
school.
So she left, began seeking out new horizons and
“A lot of the
songs are really
hard to write
because they
come from such
a raw place”
turning up to shows alone. She got accepted into
LIMF Academy, became involved with a ton of creative
projects in the community and, for a while, things were
good. “I used to love going to gigs and events by myself
because, in my eyes, it’s easier to approach people – or
easier for people to approach you. I attribute a lot of my
success to just going out and meeting people outside of
the uni bubble.”
In the months that followed, she became relentlessly
prolific. She put out music and podcasts, was featured
by BBC Introducing, starred in a Pepsi ad with Mo Salah
and became a literal poster girl for Liverpool tourism. The
EP she released towards the end of 2020, Life Of Ky, is
a culmination of that period, featuring autobiographical
lyrics and soulful hooks about upholding self-belief
against a backdrop of long retail shifts and secondguessing
crushes.
So what went wrong?
Well, if anything, she felt
the scene was a little too quick
to champion her. No sooner
had iamkyami put her name out
there than she was being fêted
as one of the city’s premier RnB
talents. She was uncomfortable
at the accolades from blogs and
promoters, when she hadn’t even
decided quite how and if RnB
fitted into her sound. “I was still
trying to figure it out, and I couldn’t,
because I had so much pressure
to be this next RnB person from
Liverpool. And I didn’t like it, I felt it contributed to my
lack of writing and creativity. I wasn’t motivated, because
I thought I needed to fit into this box that everyone was
putting me into.
“There’s more to my sound than people have
experienced,” she continues, “but also there are a lot of
labels that go with being a queer, black and Japanese
woman. It’s sad to see, but at the same time I can’t be
the person to swoop in and try to save the scene. That’s
not who I am or who I want to be.”
There was also the fatigue of competing with the
city’s fleet of guitar bands: “I think we really need to
leave these white indie lad bands behind. Just drop it! It’s
so dead! In Liverpool, I’d go to venues and watch bands
and be like, ‘What the hell? I could be playing here, and
my band is 10 times better than whatever this is’. I would
actually be fuming all the time because there’s way
better acts you guys could be putting on, but you put this
on instead.”
One thing that hadn’t shifted since childhood was
the scepticism she met trying to prove herself as a
producer. Meanwhile the prowess of her male peers
FEATURE
went unquestioned. “I knew a lot of guys making indie
music and people would always be praising them. But
when I showed things I was working on, I got so much
scrutiny. I thought it was because my production wasn’t
good enough, but then I realised, it’s not actually about
how good it is, it’s about me and who I am as a person.
I feel like – not only as a woman, but as a queer woman
of colour – it’s still really challenging to say to people,
‘Listen, I’m a producer’.”
Has it been any easier to make strides with this in
Manchester?
“There’s just more opportunity, more willingness to
collaborate. And people are starting to pick up on who
I am, I’ve been booked for a couple of things and I’m
having conversations with different record labels about
the kind of deals I want.”
For all that, Kyami doesn’t seem like the sort of artist
who relies on being part of some local ecology. You get
the feeling that if lockdown never ended, she could just sit
in her room stacking up projects, surrounded by notebooks
and brimming with ideas faster than she can jot them
down. Doesn’t that level of productivity get exhausting?
“Every day. I’m exhausted every day. I’ve been trying
to be this sort of music business shark and get my name
out there and do all these different things, but you know,
I would never give myself time to chill.”
What about her social media output, is that fun or a
chore? Because she makes it look pretty fun…
“My Instagram is my business card,” she clarifies. “I
only care about metrics, not about being popular. I used
to work full-time in make-up and they would try to force
us to be content creators and post all these different
looks – and on my own page as well, where I’ve got
people that want to see my music, not my frickin’ makeup!
So I was making all this content that I would watch
back and think, ‘This doesn’t make me laugh, it doesn’t
make me smile, I don’t think this is good in any way’. As
soon as I stop having fun making something, that’s when
I know that it’s not good.”
But on to her songwriting. I bring up her set in
the chapel at Future Yard festival in 2019, which in
iamkyami’s breakneck timeline, already seems a lifetime
ago. In that intimate setting, she came across like an old
friend, warm and funny, filling the gaps between songs
with anecdotal snippets about her life and what inspired
each lyric. Does she still feel comfortable sharing that
level of detail with strangers?
“I think I’ve tried to take a step back from writing
so personally about my own experiences,” she says.
“Because at the time when I was writing like that, and
really diving deep into certain aspects of my life, it was
more an emotional healing thing. A lot of the songs were
really hard to write because they come from such a raw
place.
15

“When I moved to the UK, I had no idea who I was.
I didn’t know what I wanted to represent, what kind
of relationship I wanted to be in, what kind of friends I
wanted to have. I was very confused about my sexuality
and my cultural identity and all this stuff. I feel like I come
across as very confident to other people, but there’s a lot
of things I’m insecure about, or have anxiety about, that I
kind of shoved to the side.
“I remember when I was writing Concrete Rose,” she
continues, “I was living in the first uni flat I ever had, and
my room was in the basement. So I was sitting on my
bed and just crying loads, and I thought, ‘I don’t know
how I could ever play this live because I will just cry’. I
think that’s why people resonate with that song. It comes
from a part of me that I needed to rectify with myself, of
like, not needing to be perfect. You just have to try your
hardest, and just be authentic, and be yourself. And that’s
something I’ve been trying to work on this whole time.”
Concrete Rose is like a lifejacket thrown to her
younger self, a tender reminder to stay strong. When
Kyami was growing up, who were the artists providing
that kind of reassurance for her? “To be honest, I don’t
think many artists I listened to had positive messages. I
liked Erykah Badu, who has a lot of self-empowerment
in her music, but most of what I listened to was super
sad, like Amy Winehouse and Adele. And beyond that,
16
really terrible misogynistic rappers and pop music. So
when I started writing that letter-to-self kind of song, it
wasn’t inspired by anyone else, it really was just about
my own healing.
“Actually, when I came to the UK, I didn’t even want
to be an artist, I wanted to be a ghost-writer because I
wasn’t super-confident in what I was doing. Now, looking
back at it, I just think, ‘Wow, that was dumb’. Imagine if I
had never become an artist because I was stopping myself?”
Although if you happen to be a certain German
supermarket chain, those ghost-writing skills might still
be available for hire: “I don’t think anyone knows this
about me, but I love writing jingles. Lidl don’t have a
jingle but they need one.” She bursts into song. “A lot
for a little! Imagine walking into stores and hearing that
little jingle. I’m just saying, you know, that’s why I need a
publishing deal so I can get these jingles out and get my
jingle money.”
We’re about an hour into the call and it occurs to me I
can stop reeling off questions like a bot and just enjoy the
conversation. What, I wonder aloud, is her track record
with houseplants? She scuttles off-camera and returns
with a tall, zingy specimen sprinkled with little blossoms.
The plant she rescued from the Jacuzzi-soaked flat hasn’t
fared so well, she says; it’s been infested with mould and
left for dead.
“My houseplants need some work, trust me. This
one is thriving and surviving, but the other one? I need to
figure that out.”
I think it will heal, I tell her. I know nothing about
plants, but I don’t let that stop me.
She brightens. “Yeah, we just gotta do a little
transplant. Cut off one of the arms and then replant it.”
Is it too schmaltzy to round this off with some readymade
analogy about repotting plants? Maybe. But for all
the upheaval of the past few years, iamkyami appears
like someone who will also thrive, no matter where she
decides to put down roots. A little change of scenery,
a little splash of water now and then, and she’ll stand
taller than ever. Just, for goodness sake, go easy on the
water. !
Words: Orla Foster
Photography: Michael Kirkham / @mrkirks
Iamkyami plays the Bido Lito! Social at Kazimier
Stockroom on 30th September. Tickets available via
SeeTickets with free admission for Bido Lito! Members.
@iamkyami

the everyday stories that
make our city extraordinary
Created by Chloë Moss
With original material by
Amina Atiq, Luke Barnes,
Roy, Aron Julius,
Rhiannon Jones,
Mandy Redvers-Rowe,
and the people of Liverpool
SAT 31 Jul to
Sat 14 Aug 2021
Book online at:
everymanplayhouse.com
Directed by Nathan Powell
Video & Projection Design by Tracey Gibbs
Costume & Props Design by Kirsty Barlow
Lighting Design by Jack Coleman
Sound Design by Xenia Bayer
Cast: Helen Carter, Chloë Clarke, Aron Julius,
Nathan McMullen and Jennifer Varda
Williamson Square, Liverpool, L1 1EL

MONKS
Shedding their unassuming demeanor, the five-piece take a leap to their next phase atop a 1980s
electrical current.
Three out of five members of MONKS clamber
into the stylish garden booths in The Merchant.
There are jokes and chatter about whether it’s
too early to order a few drinks. Classic Northern
behaviour on a sunny day. For funky outfits alone, it’s
10 out of 10 stylish points from me, and straight away,
it’s clear that this was going to be an interview full of
laughter.
Starting out properly in 2018, Monks fuse various
influences of psychedelic rock, jazz, and dream-pop.
However, the band as we now know them might have
never happened.
“At first, I wasn’t convinced about joining the band. I
heard the first demo and thought we were crap,” guitarist
Nathan Johnson jokes. It’s the band’s witty banter with
no filter that makes them so enjoyable to be around. That
fun, feel-good approach evidently spills over into their
music, especially in their latest release, 100 Percent.
The notion of labour typifies the make-up of the
band. Each member has their own role and they remain
equal at all times. With only three members of Monks
next to me, the band doesn’t forget to mention trumpet
player Joe Fay and bassist Liam Daly.
18
After the two years of focusing on recording tracks
and booking shows, Monks have now begun to alter their
sound, all agreeing that it has “changed for the better”.
“We went down to Sheffield and recorded with Ross
Orton who worked on Arctic Monkeys’ AM album. He
had a big influence on the new sound and from that one
session, he inspired a lot of ideas for new songs,” singer
and guitarist George Pomford states. Drummer Kali
Diston-Jones nods in agreement, before adding how the
new sound has also been a learning curve for them.
“The collaboration with Ross came around when we
were on tour,” George starts. It was a telling moment,
they agreed, when discussing how they jumped at the
opportunity before doing their research. “We were
performing in London and someone’s manager from
someone’s label was there. Basically, it’s a ‘someone’s
aunt’s cousin’s dog’ situation where someone had a
connection and sorted the collaboration out,” he adds as
laughter erupts from the cousin’s dog comment.
“If you told 13-year-old me that I would be working
with someone who worked with Arctic Monkeys, I just
wouldn’t have believed you. The kid in me was being a
fanboy,” Nathan continues. The appreciation and respect
for the producer is clear as they’re grinning ear to ear
when discussing the trip to Sheffield. “It felt amazing to
work with someone like that, knowing he worked on AM
and that he also liked our demo.”
While basking in the summer sun, being ultimate
fanboys, and reminiscing about a demo that was
something George had done during his GCSEs, the
humour doesn’t die out. “My nan’s a bit critical, but she
liked the new song so we must be doing something
right,” Nathan reflects, as the topic shifts onto their debut
EP, set to be released this winter.
No longer recording with the live aspect in the back
of their minds, I ask the band how changing sound
has altered their songwriting and live performance
perspectives. “We are matching up a lot of bands that are
bigger than us now with how they incorporate backing
tracks and electronic sounds via SSD pads,” Kali begins.
“We’re not standing there thinking about how something
will sound live, we’re more thinking about how we can
add it to a backing track to amplify what we are doing
and to solidify the new direction we are taking.”
“And we’re going to try adding lights to our live
shows! We’ve had a lot of time to plan,” George excitedly

cuts in at the end.
The band move on to discussing their latest single
released later in July. Pushed further for the influences
on the new sound, George touches on the specifics for
Night Moves. “The inspiration for this song came from
changing my writing process,” he starts to tell me. “I was
watching loads of film and TV series clips on YouTube
but muting the sound; writing music to the clips I was
watching.
“I had a scene from Miami Vice on repeat for hours
where a car was just going past and, from that scene, I
started sampling the synths. I
think getting the visual before
the sound helps the songwriting
process because it’s hard to
write a song if you can’t see
where it’s going visually. I think
that’s why the new single is very
80s pop-inspired, because I was
looking at 80s-themed visuals.”
In between each comment
made about the upcoming EP,
George cannot hide how proud
he is of what they’ve produced.
“Talking about it just makes me
so happy,” he enthuses.
While a wealth of contemporary music contains
overt political sentiment, it’s a route the band have
“We’re just
enjoying everything
and appreciating
it more”
tried to steer clear from so far. “It’s very on-trend to be
political within the music industry and we think that’s
good. People should use their platforms for that type
of stuff,” Nathan affirms. “It’s such a complex subject
though, isn’t it? If you do it, you have to do it well and be
correct about what you’re saying,” George quickly adds.
“We have tried incorporating it into our lyrics in the past,
but it always sounds cringey or like we don’t know what
we’re talking about; it doesn’t match our sound.”
We’ve been speaking for an hour now. The sun has
made us all delusional as we ramble on about George’s
TikTok obsession, Olly Murs being
Kali’s guilty pleasure and Shrek 2.
It’s clear that the boys are ready
to enjoy a few drinks. But before
I let them go, I ask what life has
been like being in a band. “People
think that when you’re in a band
and on the road, you go out all
the time and get bevvied or do
different substances,” George
begins. They are pretty upfront
about a musician’s lifestyle and
openly divert themselves away
from the classic stereotypes. “I’d
say we’re pretty boring when it
comes to that. We’re the most boring band in Liverpool.”
“Hey, we have a nice presence!” Kali interrupts .
FEATURE
Having had the last year and a half of their usual
life of touring and recording together put on hold due
to the pandemic, the band made sure to touch on the
impact that it had on them. “We’ve been able to take a
step back and appreciate what we do more,” Kali reflects.
“Pre-Covid, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to land
gigs or record deals, whereas now, we’re just enjoying
everything and appreciating it more,” adds George.
As the band continue to latch onto the end of each
other’s sentences, George ends the interview with a
summary of the last hour. “OK, so main influences for the
new sound: Olly Murs and Shrek 2. What other cringe
things have we said?” he questions. “I think that’s it.
That’s us, Monks,” Nathan replies. As a closing maxim,
Kali proclaims: “A boring band with a nice presence, and
we have a trumpet! What major label doesn’t want to
sign that?” Perhaps the heat is getting to all of us today. !
Words: Shannon Garner
Photography: Lucy McLachlan / @Lucy_alexandra
Night Moves is available from 23rd July.
Monks headline the Bido Lito! Social at Future Yard on
Friday 30th July. Support comes from A Lesser Version.
Tickets available via SeeTickets with free admission for
Bido Lito! Members.
19

FOR THE
LOVE OF IT
A new exhibition in Birkenhead will display the visual artwork of a range of established
musicians and their wider creative endeavours. Ahead of its opening, Cath Holland speaks to an
array of artists including Cerys Matthews, Richard Dawson and This Is The Kit’s Kate Stables to
question where the lines sit between passion, creativity and work.
At the beginning of lockdown 1.0 over a year
ago, it was universally expected of musicians,
poets, DJs and artists of all kinds to get onto
Facebook Live sharpish and entertain the
masses. Online performances from bedrooms, kitchens
and bathrooms with admittedly great acoustics were a
halfway house of a live show, self-consciously awkward
and frustrating on both sides, from a lack of being bodily
in the present.
The pop star allure dims in such a hostage video setup,
and furlough concerts were never going to discover
the next big thing. Nevertheless, we expect another
Sandi Thom PR story at some point soon.
The demand and expectation for free entertainment
lead, in part, to the furore from creatives over the
unviable and unprofitable jobs message put out by the
government in the autumn. The inference that creativity
not churning out fat profits isn’t worth preserving
bruised us. And yet, we’ve chewed over the issues
around streaming rates for a good while, and the art
vs commerce debate has rumbled on since forever.
The perception and respect for the role and value of
artists of all disciplines has shifted as barriers between
them and their audience gradually broke down. The
democratisation effect of punk must have felt a bloody
great idea 40 plus years ago, but the rot of why pay
for something when you can get it for free is a direct
descendent.
The belief that creating pretty, wonderful, amusing
and enjoyable things is not work because the product is
agreeable or entertaining, is ingrained. It’s not framed as
work the same way conventional occupations are, and
definitely not hard work, the ultimate praise and flattery
for grafters. No one comes home from a day’s nine to five
and announces what an easy doss of a day they’ve had
at the office.
But when does something become work? At what
point does it become invoice-worthy? It’s a question
sparked by SUPER COOL DRAWING MACHINE, a new
exhibition at Birkenhead’s Future Yard which showcases
the wider artistic endeavours of established musicians.
“It becomes work when other people get involved
and need stuff off you, maybe,” says Paris-based Kate
Stables of This Is The Kit. She adds after a pause, “Or is
it?” Kate quotes pop art nun Corita Kent’s famous rules
from half a century ago, that you have to do everything
as well as you can and the only rule is make or work. But
the world has moved on – or back, depending on how
we view things. In the Sister’s day, an artist, especially a
musician, didn’t have to justify building an economy for
themselves quite as much. Partly because of the music
industry’s alarming business model working for the
benefit of a tiny top per cent, but also the belief system
that creativity is not work and doesn’t need to be paid for.
Wearer of many hats from BBC Radio 6 Music,
Cerys Matthews has composed the music for We Come
From The Sun, an album of poetry by emerging UK
poets released in February. She challenges the notion of
creativity as an easy option. She enjoys the process and
result of her own lyric writing, for example, but stresses
the work and effort involved in making it how she wants
it.
“I enjoy the challenge, I
don’t find it easy, but I don’t
think anybody finds that
easy,” she says.
And by anybody, she
includes members of the
canon and those we view
through the historical genius
lens.
“Everyone used to
say about Dylan Thomas,
‘He turns on the tap and it
flows out of him’ and he’d
be fuming, saying, ‘I really
worked for hours, days and
months on that and I’m not
like a tap, I’m more like a
carpenter chiseling away
at a piece of wood making
sculpture out of wood, you know’. But what it is with great
poets like Dylan Thomas, they make it seem effortless.
The idea is you practice so much that on occasion the
variables line up and it can come to you, but, as Charlie
Parker said, you’ve just got to practice, practice, practice
and then when you’re on stage let it rip.”
And although musician Richard Dawson admits
himself feeling “grateful” to gain success in his field of
music, he believes, like Cerys, that because the process
of creating an art form is not evident, it adds to the belief
that it does not require work.
“You don’t see the workings of it the way you see the
workings of other jobs. It probably looks easier, and the
idea of it is a lot nicer than the reality.”
Other areas of the job – because that’s what it
is – take effort as well. Richard says about not always
realising how much it takes to put yourself out there,
for public consumption. There has to be an element of
steeling oneself for the response?
“Especially over the last few years, where the
atmosphere with social media and everything is a lot
more cynical. There’s more nastiness and it’s more
acceptable to be critical of people and shoot people
down. Actually, you’re giving up quite a lot by doing some
sort of performance job-based work.”
Kate and Richard are both contributors to the Super
Cool Drawing Machine exhibition stopping off at Future
Yard, and have given pieces of art they produce away
from music. Although Richard’s collage artwork is no
secret – he uses it as part of his album cover art and has
exhibited in galleries and bookshops – art is not what he
“Everyone wants to
communicate with
the outside world how
hard they’re working
and how difficult it is to
feel validated for what
they do or don’t do”
is known for. Music is his main creative output, but the
processes of both are, to him, similar.
“It all feels like the same stuff, whether it is something
you’ve made out of paper or paint or that you’ve made
out of the air or strung a bunch of words together. It’s
all problem solving – you get a raw lump of material and
you’ve just got to chip away
at it. So, the early stages of
a song or the early stages
of a collage tend to come
quite fast and then it’s the
refinement process that is
the slow bit; the closer you
get to the finish line the
slower it gets.”
Elliot Hutchinson has
three roles within music: at
nighttime he is a renowned
live DJ and also presents
shows on Liverpool’s Melodic
Distraction community radio
station; by day he is to be
found in the city’s Dig Vinyl
record shop. I put to him
that, from the outside, all
three could be viewed as a total dream, hanging around
behind the counter all day talking about music and selling
records, dealing with his chosen medium 24/7.
“It’s an enjoyable job, but there’s also a lot of hard
work,” he says of his role in the shop. “Because we
sell second-hand records there is a lot of cleaning. I go
out and buy huge collections and there’s a lot of graft
involved, manual work in order to get our stock to the
standard in which we want to sell it. There’s hours of
prepping, cleaning, editing, repairing sleeves.”
Dorcas Sebuyange is a multidisciplinary artist who
works in theatre, music and writing. All three disciplines
became work for her at different stages. But the
transformation of it ultimately came down to time and
money.
“Spending more time in each field and getting paid
for that time,” she says simply. “In the first few years it
never really felt like work to be honest, and I wouldn’t
class it as ‘working’ either. When receiving ‘work’ I would
find myself saying things like, ‘I got an opportunity’.”
As it became possible for her to make a living out of
what she loved doing, because she enjoyed it so much
she found her work-life balance out of kilter. It began to
dawn on her that that she wasn’t living out her life to the
full because she was too busy working.
“I had to realise that the whole time I was getting
these amazing opportunities, I was in fact working.
Your job, no matter how much you love it, is still a
job. Right now, I’m trying to find ways to continue
working while allowing space to take it easy and be
prudent rather than strive to be busy. Working hard
20

can look like lots of different things, a lot of good comes from it, but it can also wear you out.”
Musicians, poets and DJs aren’t hands-on life-savers, but there is a valuable role played in
areas of mental health, building and maintaining a sense of kinship and community. It cuts both
ways; for the creators themselves and audience. Elliot’s activities from day job upwards bring
their own rewards and feed into one another.
“[Club] DJing is quite a lonely thing to do sometimes,” he admits. “You don’t really interact
with anyone. On the radio, your interaction is with the other hosts, you’re listening to stuff
that you’ve never heard before and I think it creates a sense of community. I didn’t have that
access before in that way. Hosts, music fans, listeners all in the same place – you all learn
from each other.”
When lockdown first happened, he says, practicalities prevented him from livestreaming
from home. But he did have his records.
“When I was able to do radio again it was like I had a fresh outlook on my own music,
there was a lot of value I’d forgotten about. So, the first few radio shows I did I thought
of them more as a concept, I was missing that element of performance. The radio show I
was doing beforehand was literally gathering a load of records and playing them on the
radio, but I had more of an idea of what I was doing after lockdown.”
Kate has pinhole photography in the Super Cool Drawing Machine exhibition, which
she describes as “the most primitive photography there is”. She makes the cardboard
box camera herself; photographs can take from five seconds to five hours to take, and
she develops them herself. She enjoys taking photos on tour, the patience it requires is
an antidote to the sometimes frenetic activity on the road.
“I like the pace, not only because it slows you down in terms of taking the
photograph, but in terms of developing it as well. Being in a dark room and having
to put it through the different chemical processes is so soothing, and when you’re
taking the photograph you have to sit still. It’s nice and liberating, in these days of
taking loads of digital pictures on phones. I really like that it makes you sit still and
shut up.”
Richard appreciates the difference between what he does and the role of key
workers keeping essential services going. But him making music is important to
him and those who consume it. “You have to approach it with the seriousness
of work and give it its due. At the same time, you’re not going in to look after
patients all day long. I don’t save people’s lives; you’re not offering support as
a counsellor or putting out fires. You’ve got to keep both in mind. It’s deadly
serious, the most important work, and at the same time it’s also completely
frivolous.
“There’s an inner voice questioning, ‘Is this of worth?’,” he continues. “I
think it’s a healthy thing to always question why, is this of worth and what
value is it. Personally, I take it too far, beat myself up about that, whereas
it’s a lot of energy down the drain when I could be making more work. But
on the other hand, it’s probably quite healthy to keep yourself in check.”
The notion of hard work is difficult to define. Measuring it is
impossible, especially when we look at different disciplines. In the
conventional sense a manual labourer may physically work harder than
a writer or composer when measured by the amounts of calories burnt
and size of loads carried, but the mind carries burdens too. I joke to
Kate the coffee industry has a lot to do with the pressure to insist
loudly how hard we are all working, marketing to us that we need
the caffeine hit to keep us going ’cause we’re on our knees with
exhaustion otherwise.
“Everyone wants to communicate with the outside world how
hard they’re working and how difficult it is, to feel validated for what
they do or don’t do,” says Kate.
“And that’s a shame – you get people saying, ‘Artists, what a
bunch of slackers,’ and you get other people who say, ‘Oh, working
for the man’. I think it’s such a waste of time, this judgement. I’d
like it if people were more open-minded about what is work and
what deserves respect because it all deserves respect, all human
endeavour. We’re industrious beings, humans, and it’s alright
whatever you choose to do.”
Respect is the key factor here, and our emotional reliance
on the products of the creative industries and individuals. The
adage that musicians (for this, read artists of all disciplines)
and sex workers have much in common in that everyone
wants what you do but no one wants to pay for it, has never
been more true. We’d better start valuing what we get from
creativity and provide with it and do it pretty damn fast.
Everyone wanted justice for the fictional Fatima having a
cyber career forced on her after years of pain preparing
her nonexistent body for ballet, but the real issue is how
we demand it for ourselves. !
Words: Cath Holland / @Cathholland01
Artwork (top to bottom): Tomb of the Wizard by
Richard Dawson, Self portait by Kate Stables and
Reward Chair by Cate Le Bon.
Super Cool Drawing Machine is showing at Future
Yard from 15th to 18th July.
futureyard.org/listings/super-cool-drawingmachine
FEATURE
21

0 PLANET EARTH PROMOTlONS PRESENTS 0
WlTH SUPPORT FROM
CULTURE & CREATlVlTY
JULY 21
L|VERPOOL C|TY REG|ON 2021
A CULTURAL SHIFT
Following the launch of a new sustainability network for cultural
organisations in the City Region, El Gray looks at culture’s central
role in affecting and promoting climate change action.
22

Sometimes, I dream about tidal waves and
choking, saturated lungs with salty water or
smog. I dream of cities, crumbling. The Liver
Birds slowly submerged under a relentless tide.
I dream of the cathedrals and stained glass, shattering in
hurricane winds, proof of the destructive gods we have
become. Sometimes, the sunsets look like wildfires.
These images of rapture define imaginations of climate
change, extremities and catastrophe. In reality, the changes
will arrive more subtly here; a gradual transformation of
the physical environment. Stifling summers with thick air, a
heaviness everywhere. Violent winters with storm surges
that overwhelm the banks of the Mersey. It will be a slow
and gradual kind of rapture. But it will come, and it will
affect the most vulnerable first. In June 2019, Liverpool City
Region Combined Authority declared a climate emergency,
recognising the urgency of the threat and the scale of the
response required to address it. This is the paradox of
the climate crisis; preventing these subtle but devastating
changes requires radical transformation, not simply
modification or mitigation but a fundamental shift in the
way we operate, individually and societally, a series of
small revolutions.
This makes the climate crisis a cultural crisis. In March
2021, responding to this cultural necessity, Shift entered
Liverpool’s climate response. Shift is a sustainability network
for cultural organisations across the Liverpool City Region,
aiming to shrink the sector’s carbon footprint, divert away
from environmentally damaging practices and collectively
promote carbon reduction. Shift’s secretary, Nathalie Candel,
defines its purpose: “[It’s about] how we look at ourselves
as organisations, but also how we engage our audiences
within that and bring change into what they do.”
Climate change is a systemic issue, created and
perpetuated by an underlying system of values, norms
and behaviours which promote unsustainable practices:
overconsumption, individualism, dislocation from nature,
inequality. Claire Buckley of Julie’s Bicycle, a national charity
dedicated to mobilising the arts and culture to take action
on the climate crisis, summarised culture’s role in 2019:
“Policies, technology and investment alone will not be
enough to address it. We need hearts, minds and a shift
in our cultural values.” This is the new mission for culture,
engendering a shift in practice and a shift in perspective.
A SHIFT IN PRACTICE
In 2019, the Liverpool City Region Combined
Authority pledged to become net-carbon zero by 2040 – a
decade ahead of the UK’s national target. This year the
city published its Year One Climate Action Plan, outlining
an impressive array of climate initiatives to achieve this
ambitious target, including the Mersey Tidal Power
Project, with the potential to power up to one million
homes. However, achieving net-zero will require rapid and
concerted change across all sections of society, and culture
is not immune. The arts and culture do not operate in a
vacuum, they are part of a system of energy, transport and
waste with a carbon and environmental impact. According
to the Arts Council’s Environmental Report, it would take
115,000 trees 100 years to absorb the amount of CO₂
emitted by just 742 cultural organisations in 2018/19. The
cultural sector is a vital part of Liverpool’s economy and
future growth. If Liverpool is to achieve the pace and scale
of reductions required to reach carbon net-zero, culture
must also change.
Some cultural organisations in Liverpool are already
quietly responding. Meraki is pursuing an environmental
mission incongruous with its industrial surroundings. In
2019, the venue eliminated single-use plastics, saving
4500 straws a year, and stopped serving exotic fruit in
drinks, reducing their carbon impact from import emissions.
Although seemingly small decisions, these choices
contribute to normalising sustainable practices, entrenching
them in the public consciousness and impacting the supply
chain. George Griffin, Meraki’s director, is humble and
pragmatic about the venue’s environmental actions. “We
had the ability to do these things which are better for the
environment, so we did,” he says. “We didn’t do it for a PR
stunt, we did it because I think it’s something everyone
should be doing going forward.”
This pragmatism is echoed by Dr Ariel Edesess of
the Low Carbon Eco-Innovatory, a collaborative project
between Liverpool John Moores University, University
of Liverpool and Lancaster University supporting
organisations in the city to understand and reduce their
carbon impact. Sustainability can no longer be considered
“a good thing to do, it should just be the thing to do…
we have to stop putting these things on a pedestal –
it’s just how it should be”, says Edesess. This kind of
comprehensive change is multifaceted and complex
and all encompassing. And that is the point. It requires
recognising the environment as implicated within, and
affected by, everything the cultural sector does and does
not do. However, this awareness of the climate crisis often
fails to translate into tangible action, remaining stunted in
distant hopes or theoretical commitments. For Edesess,
action on climate change can no longer be perceived as
aspirational. “I think we’re kind of past that,” she admits,
“it’s going to take everyone putting their foot down and
saying, ‘Nope, this is how it is’.”
Undoubtedly, there are limits to the changes
underfunded and under-resourced cultural organisations
are able to make. As Sean Durney, PHD researcher
for the Zero Carbon Research Institute and overseeing
member for Shift, notes: “There are lots of things that are
beyond the scope of the cultural sector, located within
policy frameworks for things like planning and building
regulation.” However, in recent years, there has been an
awakening to the severity of the climate crisis and the
international consensus is changing towards immediate
action. “These things will change whether we like it or not,
but I think the arts sector is ideally placed to smooth that
journey and make it go quicker and better.”
Through introducing small sustainable changes, the
arts and culture can challenge audiences to reflect on their
own lives and practices, creating the new perspectives and
expectations that underpin change. For Edesess it’s about
“making it the new norm and culture and art can really
influence what we consider the norm”. Griffin encapsulates
the reality of the climate crisis: “The onus is on everyone
to do their individual part and I don’t think cultural
organisations can use the excuse that no one held their
hand all the way through it.”
Culture is ingrained into Liverpool’s identity,
epitomising the city’s defiance, innovation and resilience.
Culture has a legacy of transformation in Liverpool, a
proven ability to lead in action
and narrative. It is ideally placed
to lead the city’s response to the
climate crisis. Nathalie Candel
encapsulates this natural role for
culture in the city: “Throughout
history, Liverpool has been so
important for culture, if there’s
something that we’re good at –
it’s culture. So, it makes sense
that our culture sector is pointing
attention towards sustainability
as well.”
In 2020, Liverpool was
chosen to host a Massive Attack
“super-low carbon” gig as part
the band’s project with the
Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research, experimenting
with renewable power sources and alternative sustainable
transport options for audiences.
The collaborative project with Culture Liverpool and
various city authorities is testament to the city’s history
of cultural innovation, experimentation and pioneering
potential. Although postponed due to lockdown, there is
hope that the sustainable ambitions of the event will filter
down through the city’s cultural sector, provoking cultural
organisations to create and depict imagined futures.
There are similar strides being made across the Mersey.
Future Yard’s name defines their existence in the realm
of the potential, the prophetic. The Birkenhead venue is
committed to a long-term goal of becoming the UK’s first
carbon-neutral grassroots music venue, addressing its
energy consumption, building design and venue operation.
“We all have a responsibility to the environment,” Future
Yard’s director Craig Pennington asserts in the venue’s
eco-manifesto, and he wants to “create a place that has
a net positive environmental impact… not one that adds
to the problem”. It’s an ambitious vision, but as Dr Ariel
Edesess indicates, by setting a standard of zero-carbon in
music and culture “Future Yard is changing the standards
and leading the way as we all navigate this new normal”.
This encapsulates culture’s distinct role, ideally placed
to embrace the creative challenge of reimagining a more
sustainable world and leading Liverpool’s transition to a
greener future.
FEATURE
A SHIFT IN PERSPECTIVE
“To really get
[sustainability] inbuilt
into the way we
live, it’s down to the
people who are much
better at influencing
populations”
Culture’s role extends beyond internal change,
surpassing the technical and the measurable into the
abstract and the emotional. Liverpool’s Year One Climate
Action Plan states that avoiding the climate crisis
depends on “individual people making choices in their
life and work”. However, there is a powerlessness that
pervades climate change action, a resigned futility in the
face of intricate statistics and prophetic warnings. “It’s
hard to care when it’s not personal,” Edesess admits.
But culture is intensely personal. Cultural organisations
inhabit a privileged position with direct and intimate
access to individuals, capable of educating, inspiring and
challenging audiences. “Culture affects everything,” Sean
Durney explains, “the way you dress, what you listen to,
what you look at, visual aesthetics. [Cultural organisations]
are already so embedded into our daily lives, whether
we’re aware of it or not, and that’s where their influence
can be really strong.”
Durney highlights Toxteth local Squash as a “shining
example” of cultural organisations’ potential to promote
and normalise sustainable behaviours. The creative
community organisation embraces an arts, food and
environmental focus, educating and inspiring the local
community through local food growing projects and art
celebrating the seasons. “It’s an environmental message,
but it’s not a depressing one,” Durney indicates. “It’s
embedded in their programme, and it’s embedded in their
building [which is] very ecologically friendly.”
Squash epitomises how cultural organisations can
transform sustainability into something accessible,
inclusive and engaging, localising action and integrating
it into people’s everyday lives. As Dr Ariel Edesess
summarises: “At this point, we know the science. The
science is proven over and over and over again, but to
really get it inbuilt into the way we live, it’s down to the
people who are much better at influencing populations.” In
short: culture.
I try to imagine this level of cultural change. It feels
impossible. How do you shift an entire population’s
behaviour? How do you force
people to care about an invisible
and amorphous threat? And then
I think about the past year. The
pandemic has altered the realm
of possibility, demonstrating our
capacity for transformation. The
mass messaging that adorned
the walls of railway stations and
office blocks, that flickered on TV
screens and billboards, filtered
through cultural organisations
and their messaging: stay safe,
socially distance, wear a mask.
What would happen if this
same messaging were directed
towards sustainability? “If you’d
said a year ago, ‘This will be our life’, it would have felt
completely overwhelming, but bit by bit we just adapted
and got along with it,” Edesess reflects. What would
happen if this same level of messaging were directed
towards sustainability? If we began to perceive the climate
crisis as personal, as immediate? Culture can contribute to
this transmission of green thinking, making sustainability
as defining as any lockdown measure.
The future does not exist to race towards, we create
it in the racing. Now, and now, and now. In every action
and inaction. Sustainability isn’t about avoiding dystopian
images of the future; it’s about creating a more just and
sustainable present which continues with us. Sometimes,
on better days, I dream of greenery, an abundant verdancy
woven through city streets. I dream of flowers and birds
infiltrating grey facades. I dream of a tide that powers
music and wind that turns up the volume. I dream of a
culture that promotes, celebrates and reflects sustainability.
I dream of a different world, our world, just shifted. !
Words: El Gray / @just__el
Illustration: Mark McKellier / @mckellier
For more information on the work of Shift and the role of
culture in promoting sustainability, follow the link below.
shiftliverpool.com
23

24

VASILY PETRENKO
After 15 years at the helm of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, Vasily Petrenko is
stepping down as Chief Conductor to (literally) take up the baton at the Royal Philharmonic
Orchestra. Ahead of his final concerts, Stuart Miles O’Hara speaks to the Saint Petersburg
native who transformed Merseyside’s oldest musical institution.
I
don’t know if you’ve read Bido Lito!, but we’re
mainly a pop magazine, and some readers might
wonder what exactly a conductor does. So, in your
own words, what is the job?
Most people think it is kind of a ballet. The thing to
understand is that it’s the conductor’s movements
first, then the sound. You create the sound by your
movements. What you see in the concert is the tip of the
iceberg. Pop groups prepare an album for months, they
create the songs, decide how to play them, rehearse,
record it, then go on tour. But for a classical orchestra
it’s the same story in three days. This is only possible
with a conductor, who defines the pace and emotional
content. In pop music this is defined by the three, maybe
five members of the group. In an orchestra we’re talking
80-100. Every one of them has their own opinion about
how to play the music and what it’s about: is it sad, or
funny, or tragic?
And thirdly, it’s mental training and motivation. Most
pop groups don’t survive over 10 years. It’s normal,
people get sick of each other, being so close for so
long, however talented they are. More talented is more
difficult, because they have stronger individuality! In an
orchestra, players perform with
each other for 20, sometimes
30 years. To keep those people
having a certain degree of joy
in coming to work is also a job
for the conductor.
It’s multifaceted, a lot
of musical and social skills,
and a lot is just knowledge
about every piece. When you
just listen to the music you
don’t quite understand the
depth of it. This week we’re
performing Vaughan Williams’
5th Symphony. I read about it;
it was written in 1943, quite
a bleak year, in London, but he started the sketches
in 1938 when he met his second wife. And also, you
have to know what the 4th Symphony is like, so entirely
different from the 5th. It’s a never-ending education for a
conductor. I did this symphony a month ago in Oslo, but
already I think a little bit differently about it, because I’ve
learned something, not just with the piece but from life
experience.
You started as Chief Conductor with the Royal
Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (RLPO) in 2006, but
you had guest conducted the orchestra before, right?
Yeah, in December 2004.
You were the orchestra’s youngest ever conductor at
the time, aged just 28. Can you remember your first
impressions of the city?
Of course! It was one of my first times in the UK. I
didn’t know British mentality and culture yet. It was
a hotel designed for football fans with rooms where
you need to sit on the bed to open the cupboard, the
window looks onto the traffic lights, the breakfasts have
something you’ve no idea what it’s cooked from, and
it’s noisy because the fans are drinking in their rooms.
“It’s actually the
orchestra, the
management, the
organisation who are
the main heroes. I’m
just helping them”
By then I knew about the existence of the orchestra, but
not the history. It was late notice and low budget for
that concert. So I came with wide open eyes. The first
rehearsal was actually in Bootle.
Really?!
I arrived at Bootle Town Hall, a beautiful building but
a very booming, reverberant one, not one designed
for orchestras. It had refurbishment outside, so you
constantly had hammers knocking on the walls. I was
naïve, trying to argue with Scouse workers. I couldn’t
understand the answers, but I didn’t stop. For the first
day that was my impression: ‘Where am I? What is this?’
I felt potential in the orchestra from the beginning,
and there were a lot of young forces who wanted to
progress, that’s probably one of the most important
things. They wanted to discover, to improve, and
there was Capital of Culture coming up in 2008. This
combination of factors is how the story started.
You mentioned you’ve just been with the Oslo
Philharmonic (Petrenko was also their Chief Conductor
from 2013 to 2020) and you’ve led the National Youth
Orchestra of Great Britain, so
you have a busy international
schedule. But when you have
free time on Merseyside, what
do you do for yourself, apart
from classical music?
The Tate and the Williamson
Art Gallery, which is close to
my house in Wirral. One of the
positive effects of Covid (very
few of them!), for the first time
in years I was able to go fishing
in the docks! Usually I’m so
busy. I also play football with
the orchestra, just five-a-side,
more for health than anything.
The schedule is: midday football, three o’clock rehearsal,
7.30 concert.
If you were to reflect on your tenure at the RLPO, what
would be a standout concert?
I treat each concert as standout. Each one is the only
one. But what’s memorable is the opening of the [then-
Echo] Arena in 2008. The orchestra was on scaffolding
and I was in a scissor lift going up and down six metres
above the stage. If I remember right, we had 22 different
pop groups. To coordinate all that was very difficult!
Another was Mahler’s 8th Symphony in the Anglican
Cathedral in 2011. You hear it twice in there at the same
time [because of the echo], but the choir alone was
about 450, so that was a really spectacular thing. But
there were also concerts with [pianist] Simon Trpčeski
in St George’s Hall. The first time we were abroad in
Japan, the first Proms here in London, that was quite
memorable for everyone. I still think probably the best
are ahead.
Are there any pieces you’ve never conducted with the
RLPO that you wish you had?
The pool of music is endless. We’re so lucky that
FEATURE
300 to 400 years before us great geniuses wrote so
much. There are Russian composers who I still haven’t
introduced to Liverpool. Myaskovsky, who I think is due
better recognition, and there’s more of Vaughan Williams
to do. We haven’t performed enough Wagner. I’ve done
a few Bruckner symphonies, and I would like to do more.
The thing is, both of those composers have very special
audiences. We found that it sold well – actually better
than the marketing department expected – but they
rarely come to other concerts. There’s so many. We have
plans.
What about the new guy taking over as Chief
Conductor at RLPO, Domingo Hindoyan, have you met
him yet?
We’ve met, but we haven’t talked about the job. I think
it’s important to talk to the next Chief Conductor and
share your view on the orchestra. He’ll have his own,
but I think experience is important for everyone. He’s
41, relatively young for a conductor, so all the cards are
in his hands. He has a lot of enthusiasm from that great
Venezuelan school.
How does it feel to begin performing with an audience
again, in Liverpool and London?
This is the first time the RPO have seen the public for a
year! We’ll play socially distanced, 1.5 metres between
chairs, and only the wind players are allowed to take
their masks off, the rest must wear them all the way
through. But that’s life at the moment. When you look
into pubs at people standing shoulder to shoulder,
you think, ‘Really?’ You need to keep distance onstage
between orchestral musicians who are tested prior to
every project? It really is a time of double standards.
Petrenko isn’t leaving the Phil entirely, though. In
recognition of his being one of the longest-serving
directors in their 180-year history, they’ve made him
Conductor Laureate. Despite being one of the most
in-demand conductors around, and with half his career
still ahead of him (he’s only 44), he’s pretty modest
about his achievements for someone who stands in
front of 80 virtuoso musicians every night without
playing a note.
It’s not goodbye, it’s not farewell. I’ll still perform in
Liverpool, just less frequently. It’s always my love and my
pleasure. I always say: the RLPO existed well before my
birth and will exist after my death. I’m very honoured to
be part of its history, but it’s actually the orchestra, the
management, the organisation who are the main heroes.
I’m just helping them. !
Interview: Stuart Miles O’Hara / @ohasm1
Photography: Mark McNulty
Vasily Petrenko’s final concerts as Chief Conductor at
Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra take place on 9th
and 10th July.
liverpoolphil.com/whats-on
25

A CITY OF VILLAGES
Following the release of his novel, The Outsiders, journalist and author James Corbett
considers the sense of place among Liverpool’s patchwork social landscape.
When I was writing my novel, The
Outsiders, I wanted Liverpool – my home
city – to not just form the backdrop to
what is ultimately a love story, but to exist
as a multi-textured canvas in which I could capture all of
the city’s brilliance and contradictions.
Liverpool’s complex modern history – race riots, mass
unemployment and poverty, misconceptions bred from
tragedies and its 21st-Century reinvention as a worldclass
destination – forms a significant part of the book.
However, an idea that also develops throughout The
Outsiders is of Liverpool as a city of villages and tribes.
Growing up in the north of the city in the 1980s
and 1990s, there was little sense of Liverpool’s diversity
and cosmopolitanism. There were two black kids in
our comprehensive school of 900 and, although there
was no sectarianism, the tiny number of Protestants
represented the extent of Crosby’s ‘exoticism’. We were
blind to Europe’s oldest Chinese community, or the West
African, Caribbean and Jewish communities that add to
Liverpool’s patchwork.
I’ll always remember our priest telling a story of
how he learned about the Toxteth riots. Returning from
a golfing weekend there were a number of concerned
26
messages asking about his wellbeing from parishioners
near and far, including a telegram from a missionary in a
West African war zone. It was only when he turned on
the BBC that he became aware of what had happened;
Toxteth to him might have been as remote as Congo or
Angola.
This sense that if you live in one part of the city or
one community, you may not have much interaction
with those from another is a theme that I explored when
writing The Outsiders. When the protagonists encounter
the Toxteth riots, they do so from the perspectives of
slightly wide-eyed teenagers from Grassendale and
an unnamed north Liverpool suburb (it’s an amalgam
of Crosby, Formby and Hightown) and can’t believe
what they’re seeing. This is not so much because of the
violence, but their white privilege is coming face to face
with a particular kind of black poverty that they didn’t
know existed.
I write about the whole notion of intra-city apartheid,
where some consider themselves ‘more Scouse’ because
of their neighbourhood. It’s something I joke about
with friends from different parts of the city even now:
one claims you’re not a proper Scouser unless you
have a purple bin; another, a Bluecoat old boy from
the southside, we mercilessly deride as ‘Lord Snooty’;
Wirralites are alternately dismissed as ‘Tunnel Rats’,
‘Wools’, or ‘Hyacinths’ (after its most famous daughter,
Patricia Routledge – AKA Hyacinth Bucket).
I say it’s a joke, but it’s serious too and the novel is full
of these interactions, where one person’s notion of what
it is to be from Liverpool is constantly challenged. That’s
why I called it The Outsiders, because no one is really
sure what it is to come from Liverpool and as such they
always feel like they’re on the outside.
For those of us who left for London in the 80s
and 90s seeking work or education opportunities that
Liverpool could not provide us at that time, there was
no Scouse mafia, no hangouts where we could meet
with other exiles and mourn the old country; little of
the support network other regional or ethnic groups
developed. It was the opposite of the Irish expat
experience – my wife is from Ireland and I always found
it slightly incomprehensible that the first thing an Irish
person would do upon landing in a new city, was to find
an Irish pub or Irish Centre where they could surround
themselves with those that they’d left behind.
By contrast, to catch an ex-pat Scouser unawares in
London could be to invite suspicion or at least a certain

THE OUTSIDERS
An extract from James Corbett’s debut novel.
You didn’t become a Liverpudlian simply by living there. You could be from the city, but not of it; call it
home, but never really belong. Other cities chewed you up then spat you out, but Liverpool was different:
it would turn up its nose and shrug you off with an ambivalence so damning that made it feel as though
you had never even fallen under its contemptuous glare. Everybody spoke of the sense of community, but
once away from the vicinity of family, friends and neighbours, and out into the wider city, you were nobody.
Because of the intra-city apartheid that seemed to rear its head in every loose encounter – the whole I’m
more local than you swagger – everybody was, in their way, an outsider.
These things kept coming back to Paul as he made the journey from the suburban outlands and into
the heart of the city where he was meeting his friends for a night out. In a vapid summer, the chance to see
Echo & The Bunnymen at the university was one of the few fixtures in Paul’s calendar.
It was early evening and men in suits were disembarking from the Southport train to go home to their
wives and children, their squares of garden and the last of the day’s sun. Liverpool had broiled again under
clear skies and a high sun. Beyond the city the expanse of the Irish sea lay flat, brown and benevolent, the
coastal breeze which usually cooled it on such days conspicuous by its very absence. The air was still and
dense.
Liverpool also sweated under the gaze of a hundred television cameras as a media frenzy descended
upon the city. Liverpool 8, the inner-city district that incorporated Toxteth, had exploded into violence after
local residents took an aggressive stand against police brutality. Overnight it became a latter-day Saigon
as journalists filled its streets and ran with the rioters. Buildings burned, vehicles were overturned and set
alight, while youths hacked away at the wreckage, creating a makeshift arsenal of bricks and masonry.
Social commentators lined up to condemn the moral degradation that bred the violence, while police
deflected accusations of brutality by inviting camera crews into local hospitals, where entire wards were
handed over to bruised bobbies. One man was dead, hundreds of others injured. Bishops appealed for
calm; community leaders claimed the battles were over.
For the rest of the city, however, life carried on as normal. People went to work, women shopped, and
children played. Concerned relatives telephoned from afar to check up on family, but in a city of suburbs for
most people Toxteth’s riots were a TV phenomenon: remote, somewhere else.
With his parents, Paul watched the previous evening’s Nine O’Clock News with a rising sense of
bewilderment as the sombre voice of Richard Whitmore spoke over footage of burning buildings: ‘Liverpool
burns as its inner cities rampage.’ As the picture cut to a line of policemen forming across the top of a
Victorian street, Paul’s father leant over and turned up the volume. The police held plastic riot shields in
one hand, while in the other metal batons glistened menacingly. ‘150 injured as police battle rioters,’ said
Whitmore and the picture cut to Margaret Thatcher climbing from a ministerial Jaguar and up the steps of
10 Downing Street. ‘The Prime Minister convenes an emergency meeting of the cabinet as tensions rise
and police anticipate more trouble this evening.’
“On the rampage because one of their lot got pulled over by the police.” Paul’s father pronounced.
Paul winced at his father’s easy distillation of the report. His mother walked urgently towards the
netted curtains and looked out anxiously onto their darkened cul-de-sac. There was a sudden nervousness
about her, as if a mob might also come rampaging down their little street several miles away.
But the riots, although just eight miles away, may as well have existed on another planet.
The Outsiders is available now via Lightning Books.
coolness, particularly when you weren’t bound by a
shared footballing affinity. I’m not sure why this was
or if it’s still completely true today. For some, I’m sure,
there was a certain stigma, a shame that came from
leaving certain parts of the inner or outer city that said,
‘I escaped, I made good, that’s part of my past, I don’t
need you to remind me’. For others, I found, the ones
who stake great emphasis on their origins, who play
on the unruliness and misconceptions of the city – ‘I’m
a bit dangerous, a bit of a lad, a bit of a wag’ – semiprofessional
Scousers, for want of a better description,
they might not want to be found out. If their naive
southern audience knew what Mossley Hill or Childwall
or Formby was really like, the act would have been killed.
And so a guard inevitably went up. You might let on
that you’re of the same city, but it would be the bear in
the room, something not really up for discussion – at least
at first. You didn’t talk about ‘going home’ in the way that
Irish people perennially did. In my book, there is a scene
where the great Liverpudlian novelist Beryl Bainbridge
comes face to face with Paul, the book’s protagonist and
a well-known journalist.
“‘I know who you are,’ Bainbridge said to Paul
without greeting. ‘You’re like me: you escaped Liverpool.’
Although they spent the next hour in each other’s
company, she never alluded to his work or their shared
home again.”
This was entirely my experience during 14 years
of living in the capital, and I think, looking back, it
ultimately came down to coming from this city of villages.
The Liverpool experience is so unique, so varied, and
notions of what it is to be a Liverpudlian so lacking in
definition that we put up a shield so as not to have others
challenging conceptions of who we were.
I left Liverpool in 1998, but the city has never left
me. Until the pandemic
I was there all the time,
spending hundreds of hours
and thousands of pounds
every year on Virgin Trains,
Ryanair flights and P&O
ferries. I maintained my
Everton season ticket and
even bought one for my son
– the sixth generation of my
family to hold one – despite
living in a different country.
I set up a business in the
city [deCoubertin Books], at
once an act of insanity that
for a long time cost me my
health and colossal sums of
money, but a symbolic gesture too; a show of faith that a
creative business could thrive beyond the London bubble.
Many of my friends and most of my blood relations live
there, and the ones that left have either returned or plan
to do so.
And yet I probably never will. There are ultimately
“No one is really sure
what it is to come
from Liverpool and
as such they always
feel like they’re
on the outside”
professional and family reasons underlying this and I have
a nice life away from the city, away from England. But I’m
lucky too in the sense that I have enough good reasons to
return often and throw myself headlong into the Liverpool
experience, drinking and chatting and yarning my way
around the city for a few days; a highlights package
of all its best bits, before
heading off home and quiet.
This means I’m largely
immune to Liverpool’s
less appealing facets –
London Road bagheads
and quadbike ninjas; Dock
Road traffic jams and
inner city blight; gobby
pensioners and moody
waitresses; upwardly mobile
gangsters encroaching upon
the suburbs and gangs
terrorising other parts of
the city.
If that’s a sanitised and
sentimentalised version of
Liverpool, then so be it. But you could live in the city of
villages all your life and there’s a chance that you may
never really know it at all. !
Words: James Corbett / @james_corbett
Photography: Ant Clausen / antclausen.com
FEATURE
27

HEADS UP
The story of Liverpool Football Therapy is one forged in collective vulnerability, courage,
and acceptance. As the team continue to triumph on and off the pitch, Matthew Berks
explores the work behind the organisation saving lives through early intervention.
Contains references to suicide and depression.
When Liverpool Football Therapy lifted
the inaugural Mental Health Football
Association tournament cup on 22nd
May, it was difficult not to witness more
than just a modest piece of silverware being lifted into
the sky. Despite coasting through an unbeaten run to
beat Man Marking in the final, the trophy lift was as much
a celebration of the journey many had been on up to
that day as it was recognition of one team’s exceptional
form. As the club were crowned champions, there was a
similar sense of pride and victory for the other 14 clubs
hailing from across the UK who competed as one to
kick the stigma surrounding mental health. Nowhere on
Merseyside had ‘This Means More’ rang truer than right
here on a community pitch in Huyton.
Two days before kick-off at City of Liverpool FC’s
Purple Hub, Colin Dolan reported the 100th sign-up
to Liverpool Football Therapy – a Community Interest
Company (CIC) that uses football to improve the physical,
mental and social wellbeing of adults with mental ill
health. It’s a milestone that speaks to the popularity of
the initiative as much as the severity of a mental health
crisis that sprung it into existence. Up until the country’s
first lockdown, Colin was managing approximately 40
participants in one session. He now runs three two-hour
sessions every week for players ranging from 18 years
old to 60, and plans to expand the programme. “These
are all people who regularly use the services,” he tells me
over a decaffeinated latte wearing his coaching attire,
with initials CD stitched into the jacket’s chest. “That
number is only going to grow.”
In assembling 15 football clubs and 160 players from
Birkenhead to Greenock in Scotland, the first Mental
Health FA tournament appraised the role of football
as a tool for mental health recovery. One of the clubs
competing, the All Stars, boasted a star-studded line-up
including Ian Byrne MP, The Farm’s Peter Hooton and
Liverpool City Region Mayor Steve Rotheram, who,
speaking in front of the Fans Supporting Foodbanks
van, saw the day as an opportunity to raise the platform
of football therapy. “Kicking a football around a pitch
is one of my favourite pastimes, so I’m combining the
two – doing some good but probably making myself
feel better in the process. Hopefully people are much
more aware now that far too many young men take their
lives. We need to talk about things like mental ill health.”
Paul Manning, chairman of tournament hosts City of
Liverpool FC, reinforced the mayor’s views. “A lot of it
has to do with self-esteem. It’s a team game, you feel
part of something instantly,” he said. “Football can mean
anything to anyone, you can go on a pitch and be anyone
28

you want to be. It’s the whole gamut of human emotions.
Football is life.”
On occasions when football shares conversations
with mental health – of having the power to transform
and improve our lives – it’s often met with surprise from
some who see the sport as little
more than light entertainment.
In this reality, football’s
parameters are contained within
a set of goals and 90 minutes of
playing time; it’s a game of zerosum
absolutes, with two teams
competing until the spectacle
ends, seeing players and fans
return home to more ordinary
lives.
Like any one of the other
mental health teams at the
tournament that day, Liverpool
Football Therapy doesn’t begin
and end with the blow of a
whistle. Its work isn’t confined
to a pitch for 90 minutes. Its
players don’t suddenly return to a different life when
the spectacle is over. It’s a project that, since beginning
formally in 2019, has continued to provide a platform for
adults affected by mental ill health, with the squad acting
as an immediate peer support network on and off the
pitch.
Colin Dolan, the programme’s founder and chief
executive of Mental Health FA, began to write the first
chapters of Liverpool Football Therapy following his own
continued experiences with mental ill health, including
bipolar disorder. “I’ve suffered from mental ill health since
my early 20s and have been depressed for a number of
years, on and off. I have had lots of periods with suicidal
thoughts and, sadly, I’ve succumbed to those thoughts on
a few occasions by trying to take my life five times.”
Colin’s adolescence in Glasgow’s East End strikes at
the heart of the stigma surrounding mental health: the
perceived shame that prohibits the ability to seek help,
“Where you’re
supportive of each
other on the pitch,
you’re supportive
off the pitch.”
particularly in more masculine environments. “It was very
much a macho environment where showing weakness
was just not an option – you were bullied and abused. I
certainly didn’t want to tell people how bad I was. I put
[my first suicide attempt] down to just a silly mistake
and no one in my family ever
spoke about it. I was very much
embarrassed and always hoped
that no one would find out.”
Finally diagnosed with bipolar
in 1997, Colin had spent years
unable to acknowledge and find
recourse for his condition. “I had
gone all those years without
seeing doctors and psychiatrists.
I thought I knew better than
them, like most of us do at
times.”
Following a move to
Liverpool in 1995 that was
decided by the flip of a coin,
Colin continued to experience
mental ill health right up to 2012
when he was voluntarily hospitalised for his own welfare.
“When I came out of hospital, I went into a friend’s
house in Toxteth while I waited for a house with my wife,
Michelle. For about six months I was in my bedroom not
wanting to come out, just getting lost.” It was here when
Michelle signposted Colin to Imagine Your Goals, a mental
health football programme run in partnership between
Everton in The Community (EITC) and Mersey Care.
“These are all people who are diagnosed and under
mental health services. It can be a long drawn out
process to get on board, but I went through it. Not only
did EITC change my life, they saved my life and helped
me become the person that I’d always hoped to be.” Colin
saw in football-led therapy a way to combine the benefits
of exercise with the peer support each session would
naturally provide. “Football has always been my escape
from everything in life. But the Everton [programme]
just seemed that bit more special compared to any
football club or organisation I’d ever been to, because
I was surrounded by so many people who were also
on their journeys through mental ill health.” The course
of Liverpool Football Therapy was set. “That’s what I
decided to do – dedicate my life to helping other people,
and that’s never going to change.”
Those who have had to navigate the complex
world of mental health services will be familiar with the
numerous barriers and bureaucratic hurdles required to
access appropriate treatment. Owing to lengthy referral
processes – together with the stigma around help – Colin
knew there existed a number of adults who were slipping
through the net. “[Getting referred] can take a long, long
time, through no fault of Mersey Care or EITC – sadly
neither have enough funding to push the process through
quicker. So, I saw there were people who wouldn’t go
to the doctors, or people who would go but wouldn’t go
and see a psychiatrist. Some might see a psychiatrist
but won’t take medication – they won’t go on the books
of Mersey Care because they don’t want to be seen as a
regular, so we have all these barriers.”
When Colin began the sessions for Liverpool Football
Therapy in 2019, they were founded on the principle that
early intervention can buy time. As such, he maintains
a no-referral joining process to ensure the programme
remains accessible to all, diagnosed or undiagnosed.
“Early intervention saves lives. Someone with stress or
a mild form of depression may never experience suicidal
thoughts – but they could, and if we can nip it in the
bud then there’s at least a better chance that it’ll never
happen at all.”
For many of the players, the programme brings
purpose, responsibility and focus back into their lives.
Luke McNulty joined Liverpool Football Therapy in
the Summer of 2019 and lives with ADHD. “Liverpool
Football Therapy has been the best thing on the planet
for me. At the time I joined, I was going through a really
dark patch and wanted to commit suicide every day of
my life. I had no real motivation to get out of bed, so this
has been an outlet for me.” Enjoying the opportunity to
socialise with peers living with mental ill health, Luke
James’ Place
FEATURE
29

Colin Dolan
Luke McNulty
also acknowledges the unique space that the programme
offers for opening up. “In the real world, there’s a stigma
around mental health. Someone could ask you how you’re
feeling and the answer you give might not be the answer
you want them to hear. But in this sort of environment,
you kind of know what everyone’s going through, so it’s a
little bit easier to have those conversations.”
Such is the programme’s close-knit environment
that players are more like family than teammates, all
at varying stages of recovery. Ryan Spencer has been
a player for over two years and was parachuted in as
captain at the tournament following his teammate’s
injury. “The opportunities I’ve had off Colin have been
unbelievable. I’ve met so many new friends on it, so many
good people. The majority of players are friends for life
now – we’re like a family. People on the programme have
all got different mental health issues, but we all stick
together when one of us is down, and I think that’s the
biggest part of it. Not the football side – I think because
we’re like a pack.”
As head patron of the team, Colin has witnessed the
familial bonds take flight beyond the pitch. “We reach
out for each other all the time. You sense that feeling of
belonging, of brotherhood and sisterhood. When we’ve
got that bond, you know you can put your arm around
anyone to help them.”
This sense of belonging is just as strong at the
sidelines as it is during a game. Like most clubs, Colin
begins each session by having players stand in a line
30
for team selection before playing commences. “What
happens at the side of the pitch – that’s different,” he
says with a smile, as if letting me in on the programme’s
best kept secret. “That’s when the banter starts, and
that’s when the peer support comes in, because people
will highlight stuff that’s been said in the WhatsApp
group and ask if they need help. Where you’re supportive
of each other on the pitch, you’re very supportive off the
pitch.”
Provisional data from the Office for National Statistics
reveal that in 2020, 4,902 deaths by suicide were
recorded in England, with men accounting for 75 per cent
at 3,674. In many of these cases, access to mental health
support would have arrived too late, if at all. Jane Boland,
centre manager and clinical lead at James’ Place – a
Liverpool-based suicide prevention centre for men named
after a young man who died by suicide – was at the
tournament to cheer on the centre’s debut appearance.
“James went looking for help but the help that he needed
didn’t come. Our mission is to make sure that when men
get to that crisis point, they can access help and that the
help comes quickly.”
Liverpool Football Therapy’s mix of age, gender,
sporting abilities and life experience allows for a much
more diverse environment where support is continually
bounced off one another. “They’re aware that it’s not just
about football,” Jane continues, “it’s about looking after
each other as well. [Support] goes both ways, because
the older fellas are actually in the highest risk group, so I
think perhaps sometimes the older fellas are being taught
by the younger men that it’s alright to talk to each other –
it’s alright to show that you’re a bit vulnerable.”
When Liverpool Football Therapy lifted the Mental
Health Football Association tournament cup on 22nd
May, they were showing not just the strength to confront
mental ill health together, but the strength to show
it’s alright to be vulnerable. As he saw his footballing
family lift the trophy, Colin saw something he’d known
ever since his first therapy session as a player himself
all those years ago: football therapy works. “My players
won’t always need me – they can do it themselves,” he
concludes. “Many of them now have the confidence to
become leaders and go, ‘I’ll come and sit with you’.” !
Words: Matthew Berks / @hewniverse_
Photography: Liam Jones / @mailjones
Liverpool Football Therapy hold sessions every Tuesday
at Evans Road Speke, every Wednesday at Goals Soccer
Centre Netherton, and every Friday at The Purple Hub
Huyton.
The Samaritans (116 123) operate a free 24-hour mental
health listening service available every day of the year.
@LiverpoolFT_

liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/ai
#aimorethanhuman
Exhibition curated and organised by Barbican International
Enterprises. The City of London Corporation is the founder
and principal funder of the Barbican Centre. Co-produced
by Forum Groningen, Netherlands.

SPOTLIGHT
“There’s huge
power in having
people focus just
on your words”
STARKEY THE MESSENGER
A musical polymath handing out generous helpings of knowledge.
STARKEY THE MESSENGER has his fingers in every pie.
He’s written, produced, mixed, and mastered his three
singles to date (Wildfire, Seventh Step, Cocoa Butter),
which are a unique blend of alternative hip-hop, melodic
rap and jazz. The musician’s output aims to reflect current
social and political issues, including police racism and
brutality as well as support of the Black Lives Matter
movement. Starkey manages to address these subject
matters through euphonious and soulful notes paired
with smooth production.
“When I get into writing, I’d say emotions and current
affairs inspire me a lot,” says Starkey. “I would say my
writing is focused on a balance between the two, in the
sense that I express how I personally feel affected by
what’s going on, and then try and contextualise that in
the wider narratives surrounding the issue.”
Starkey has always been obsessed with music, especially
since his family are musicians, meaning music was a
part of his life from an early age. He grew up playing the
piano and reflects that “it was something I really enjoyed
and was a lot better at than other things”. As an early
teenager he got his first guitar and so grew his interest in
creating music.
At first, Starkey set up a covers band with his friends,
but when he was 13 he started writing songs. “I became
obsessed, really, I loved that every time I wrote a new
song it was better than the last, it was almost addictive.”
As Starkey grew, so did his passion for the process of
creating music. At 16 he started producing, which led to
his music taste expanding from indie and rock towards
hip hop, RnB and jazz. It was from that point that Starkey
started writing raps.
“At that time, I was very set on production and never
saw myself making my own tracks,” he admits, “so I
kept putting beats out and producing for my mates, but I
never stopped writing songs.” Through producing music,
Starkey was able to discover a wider range of music as
well as becoming more confident in himself. In 2020 he
recorded his first single Wildfire and shared it out on
his social media platforms. The track narrates the death
and violence caused by racism and police brutality from
the perspective of someone who is grappling with the
idea that they could be the next to be targeted. Starkey’s
newfound confidence shines through as he eloquently
addresses the prevalent discussions of discrimination of
racism across the world.
Spoken word and poetry are key influences that stand
out in Starkey’s songs. He has only recently got into
spoken word but says it “was massive for me creatively”
after discovering Black British poets like George the Poet,
Suli Breaks and Kai Isaiah Jamal. “There’s something
so raw and vulnerable about poetry – without a unique
or catchy flow or cadence to take the focus, without a
song or a beat to hide behind, the emphasis is entirely
on the words.” Starkey has found this way of writing and
performing a powerful tool since there are more freedoms
in communicating exactly what he wants to say. “I think
poetry on its own can easily come across as dry, and
that’s why rap exists in the first place – to communicate
the same ideas more engagingly. But there’s huge power
in having people focus just on your words, and it can
very easily be the spark that develops a good idea into
reaching its full potential.”
Music by other artists also inspire Starkey. “I am quite
competitive, so I always want to make better music than
everyone!” He says that other art helps to show him
different approaches and new ideas that he would not
have thought of. “I’d say other art inspires me most to
pick up the pen, because if someone writes something
that’s really amazing, I’ll be annoyed that I didn’t write it
first or haven’t written something better yet.”
But Starkey’s main influence comes from Kojey Radical a
grime-y hip hop, alternative rap and spoken word artist.
“His album Cashmere Tears influenced me massively
because it’s the first time I’d heard an album that unique,
versatile and ambitious come out of the UK rap scene.
It’s an immaculate project, which packs so much content
into such a small amount of time; stylistically, lyrically and
musically.” Kojey Radical’s innovative style and refusing
to be labelled is shared by Starkey and he is an artist he
wishes to support if the future if he could.
Lockdown has played a huge role in Starkey’s
development. All three of his singles have been released
since the first lockdown period in March 2020. “I wrote
a lot more poetry than music in lockdown, I think just as
therapy. So, it definitely helped me grow my confidence
in that area.” It has also provided him with the chance
to practice playing instruments and finding new music.
“Generally, I think I’ve found that out of lockdown I have
more experiences to draw from and being able to grow
more because of them has helped me process a lot.”
However, that didn’t stop him from counting down the
days until he could return to the studio. “I missed the
studio so much,” says Starkey.
Despite still being in the early stages of his musical
career, Starkey has received recognition from DJ Ace
and his first single was played on BBC Radio 1Xtra.
“I think sometimes it takes that kind of recognition to
reaffirm your belief in your craft and shut up the imposter
syndrome that I think everyone gets when they’re doing
something new.”
Starkey is an exciting, fresh and versatile artist who has
a deep connection with music. “It’s the only thing that
makes sense, in a senseless and confusing society, and it
makes people feel good.” !
Words: Mia O’Hare / @mia_ohare
Photography: Daniel Pattman / @daniel_pattman
Cocoa Butter is out now.
@starkeymusic
32

“There is no better
way to get someone
to understand our
message than
getting it stuck in
their head with a
catchy melody line”
THE LET GO
Finding their own feet and shaking off the female comparison.
THE LET GO have been gaining a fair bit of attention
from the local scene since 2019 when they released their
catchy rock-pop track Act One. Since then, the indie-pop
duo have continued to cultivate their 80s glam aesthetic
while simultaneously progressing their musical ability.
Relatable lyrics fused with nostalgic 80s synth sounds
are a common theme on their debut EP, Feeling Lonely,
and with each song, it is evident that the pair always
have something to say. “We both very much implement
our own emotions and life experiences through our
music,” Cole Bleu starts. “Writing is something that
allows us to deal with real shit when we can’t seem to
find words to say it. It helps us express ourselves without
having to explain.”
With one of their most popular tracks, WOMAN, being
a female empowering song lyrically, it didn’t come
without its challenges. “Writing WOMAN was honestly
a struggle,” Bleu admits. “At the end of the day we just
want to be artists. We don’t want to be specially treated
or even mistreated because we are women in this
industry,” she continues. “We just want to coexist with
any other artists out there – and that’s why writing this
song was difficult. We tried to be as clear as possible
that we aren’t furthering the divide between men and
women within the industry, just trying to collectively
succeed together.” In an industry dominated by men, the
last few years have seen strides made towards a more
equal gender mix on radio playlists and festival line-ups,
but one area where women are still underrepresented
is where the music is made – the studio. “In a way, the
writing process was the start of us getting over the divide
as it was the first time we began to fiddle with producing.
It definitely initiated our curiosity, despite the field of
music production being predominantly run by men,”
Scout begins. “Writing this song took the fear out of the
process and helped us prove to ourselves that it’s not this
menacing thing, and that we are fully capable of learning
the ins and outs.”
While proving to themselves that they are capable of
doing what men can do in the studio, growing up, The
Let Go found it hard to gather inspiration due to the
lack of women in the industry to look up to. “As females
[growing up in the music scene], I found it quite difficult
to find people to look up to or feel as if I could follow a
similar path,” Bleu opens up. “Being a small kid, most of
the music I would listen to would be classic rock and roll
courtesy of my father. Because of this though, I felt like
there wasn’t many female bands that resonated with me,”
she continued. There are numerous female fronted bands
and artists in the rock and alternative genres (Paramore
and Evanescence are referenced), but Bleu gets ‘pissed
off’ with such comparisons: “There’s many female fronted
bands and artists that are killing it, but for some reason
nothing really clicked with me – and that really pissed me
off. And it didn’t help that when we first started playing
gigs, people would always compare us to Paramore or
Evanescence,” she admits. The other half of the duo
agreed with the lack of female fronted bands to instil
inspiration: “Other than enjoying the way music sounds,
I can’t say much inspired me other than the urge I felt to
prove that girls can play guitar without using capos. In a
way, all live gigs inspire me because of the small number
of females fronting, and especially the severe lack of them
playing instruments.”
Having moved from Washington, DC to Liverpool
and going from strength to strength, the female duo’s
vision to get people moving their feet across the globe
is starting to become a reality. “Every small milestone
we’ve reached since January has stood out for me. We
found a lovely manager and had a lot of support from
Spotify by getting on editorials. These things have never
happened to us before, and it just feels incredible to see
the progress we’ve made in such a short amount of time,”
Bleu adds. “Every day stands out as we continue to reach
more and more people with our art,” Scout continues.
“Nothing is more rewarding than adding to the clique and
relating to people who resonate with us.”
The Let Go’s inquisitive disposition means their love of
music lies in the never-ending pursuit. “Creating music
allows us to make our message more impactful. There
is no better way to get someone to understand our
message than getting it stuck in their head with a catchy
melody line,” Scout tells us.
Bleu reaffirms their ambition to produce music that
people can identify with. “We want to impact this
generation culturally. Music has always been something
we both have latched onto in order to channel emotions
and thoughts. And as we do this, we hope to be blunt
and straightforward so that everyone can find something
to relate to.” !
Words: Shannon Garner / @shannonmayy_
Photography: Frankie Beanie
Feeling Lonely is available now.
@theletgo_
SPOTLIGHT
33

PREVIEWS
GIG
LOVELY
EGGS
Harvest Sun @ Phase One - 16/07
Six attempts and counting,
THE LOVELY EGGS are heading
to Merseyside, maybe not
this month, but hopefully
next at the latest. At the
time of writing the above
date and venue is pencilled
in, but also at the time of
writing the industry is reeling
from an extension to indoor
restrictions. Watch this space.
After a tumultuous year and a hell of a lot of
time to work on new projects, including the
recently released album I Am Moron, THE
LOVELY EGGS’ next release could be a career
high. A collaboration with punk royalty Iggy Pop, I, Moron
is an auditory accumulation of appreciation and shared
passion.
Following numerous failed attempts to sync our
calendars, I finally managed to catch up with The Lovely
Eggs’ Holly Ross (singer/guitarist) for a quick chat about
such an impressive, career-defining moment. In our busy,
regulation-reduced lives, I still pinch myself at the idea of
a live calendar returning. Thankfully, this band will soon
be back on tour, and any memory of Covid’s impact on
our lives will be where it should be, in the past.
Six attempts at rescheduling later and you’re finally off
on tour.
Yeah! The original tour was for April last year. So, a sixth
time rescheduling, we’re getting a bit sick of it now.
We’ve always got shit to do, but the live gigs are what
really make it real for us. Our fans, playing live to people,
it’s the joy of being in a band like ours. There’s only two
of us. We make a lot of noise, but there is only two of us.
We live together in a shithole town, in the North West of
England, which is a bit like the Twin Peaks of the north.
And it’s mad and magical at the same time. It’s very
mundane, but it’s magical. It’s lovely living here, but it’s
also wonderful to go out and see the wide world and
meet like-minded people and hanging out with people
who like our music. It’s kind of like living on Mars but then
getting on the International Space Station and meeting
loads of really cool people and then getting off for a bit.
We’re really missing that at the moment, I can’t lie about
that. If we can get back out on tour and just see our
people again, that would be cool.
But, while you’re missing that, you’ve been doing some
amazing things in the meantime.
Well, we’ve done a single with Iggy Pop, which is pretty
amazing for our band. Doing something with a giant like
Iggy Pop is pretty mind blowing. The single – a 7” – sold
out within hours of going on sale, so we’ve just been
busy packaging stuff up and getting everything ready for
it. Sitting at home and doing a bit of rehearsing, hoping
that we can go on tour soon which we still don’t know.
Yes, we can only hope this will be the final schedule
for the tour. With venues closing, the world of social
distancing and limited capacity, I can imagine you won’t
be wanting to do that again anytime soon.
It’s just monotonous. You do it once, you do it again. It’s
like a crossword puzzle, really. Trying to fit all the dates
in the right order so you’re not playing Aberdeen one
day and Brighton the next. But, as a DIY band, we’ve
built fabulous relationships with so many UK venues and
UK promoters, they have become like family to us. This
band is our life. And I know that the promoters and the
venues, a lot of them feel so similar about what they do.
A lot of venues, they’re not just a venue, not just a pub
or whatever. Each venue means something to a lot of
people, and it means something to the people who run it.
The sense of community has been amazing. I don’t think
I could have booked a tour six times without all the help
from the promoters and the independent venues in the
UK.
But the stars aligned.
Exactly. That’s what I’m on about. I believe in shit like
that. I know I shouldn’t, but there’s too much coincidence
that’s happened in my life and the life of the band that
I’ve just got to believe in it. A lot of weird things happen
to us, I still get surprised with all the odd shit, the weird
stuff. It’s never easy with us, never a straight or through
line, it winds its way through a million totally mental
scenarios before it gets to it actually happening. But we
enjoy the ride to be fair.
The synchronicity between Iggy featuring on I, Moron,
and your B-side being Dum Dum Boys, off The Idiot
album, is that another example of cosmic forces?
It sounds like we did it on purpose doesn’t it and we
didn’t at all. The way it all came about was strange but
true. He’s been into our band for a while now, he’s played
us quite a lot on his [BBC Radio 6 Music] show, which is
enough for us really, we couldn’t believe it. I, Moron was
initially going to be one of the tracks on the I Am Moron
album, but the bit Iggy is in, we didn’t have anything
for. We were working on it and one day David went,
we should get Iggy Pop to do those bits. He was joking
of course, but I took it dead seriously and sent him a
message.
And the outcome is an obnoxious yellow single with a
three-headed monster of you, David and Iggy?
It’s pretty full-on. That’s our style, really. Everything’s got
to be turned up full, including the colour and everything.
And Casey [Raymond, illustrator] is just amazing. We
always try and include him somehow into getting up to
no good and doing the illustrations for us. And he always
“Can you
have it all?
You can try”
seems to knock it out of the park. It’s almost like we’ve
made a visual connection with him. A lot of mine and
David’s existence is very insular, that’s how it is 90 per
cent of the time, but if you can spend 10 per cent of the
time working with great artists or great producers or
even with friends, just dicking about doing stuff, it feels
good.
It’s important to find that connection with people. But
by the running theme of ‘morons’, I’m going to presume
you’re not blind to the downfall of man.
We got a bit obsessed with that theme. I suppose it’s that
thing where we’re saying, ‘Yeah, everything is fucked’.
The world and what we do is absolutely stupid and we’re
just laughing at the state of it, which we do constantly.
But we’re not blameless either. We’re not saying we’re
not a part of that, we are a part of that. That’s just human
nature. We will always be twats. We’re like a stick of rock
with twat running through us. Every single fucking one of
us. And if anyone thinks different then they’re not human.
Being human has a few perks. If you’re surrounded by
complimentary people.
That’s what I love about going on tour and meeting our
fans, because it’s nice to find like-minded people out
there, rather than just pictures on a screen. It’s a bit fake,
really. But touring is great. We’ve got an eight-year-old
kid as well, just to add that into the mix. We’re literally
obsessed, we take him on tour with us everywhere
we go. And we have done since he was four months
old. That just adds to the madness of it all.
Never do anything by halves.
That’s it, that’s it. It’s about not having to give stuff up.
You’ve got to change when you become a mum or a dad,
you have to change and adapt. But I was born a punk
rocker and as soon as I was 14, I picked up a guitar and
I’ve been in a band ever since. And it just doesn’t feel
natural for me to not be in a band. So, I’m not going to
have a kid and then pack it all in and go and get a job in
a shop or an office and be a normal mum, it’s just never
going to happen. Sometimes, I think it’s good just not to
change and to keep on.
I 100 per cent respect that. Society often tells women
they can’t have it all, but sod that.
I think it’s true, a couple of late nights and bloody hell.
Can you have it all? You can try, but you’re not going to
feel very good the next day. You do have to change a little
bit, but not so much so that it stops you doing what you
feel like you’re born to do.
DIY in the truest sense.
That’s it. When it’s good, it’s fucking brilliant and when
it’s bad it is hard work. But the good outweighs the bad. !
Words: Megan Walder (she/her) / @m_l_wald
Photography: Darren Andrews
I Am Moron is out now on Egg Records.
@TheLovelyEggs
34

EXHIBITION
LUCIAN FREUD:
REAL LIVES
24/07–16/01/22 - Tate Liverpool
This summer will be the first time in over 30 years that works of Lucian
Freud have been put on display in the North West. Tate Liverpool will host
a significant presentation of the artist’s work, a painter who has long been
considered a master of modern portraiture. The exhibition will feature some
of Freud’s most iconic paintings as well as photographs that provide an insight into his
personal life.
Lucian Freud: Real Lives highlights the artist’s sitters who were family members,
friends, other artists and lovers. The display tracks the personal and artistic life of Freud
who was regarded as deeply private and guarded. Through his work, we get to know
the artist over a career spanning more than 60 years.
Freud’s paintings are classed as unapologetic and frank celebrations of the human
form. The Tate exhibition will include some of his most celebrated works including
portraits of performance artist Leigh Bowery, his first wife Kitty Garman, friend and
studio assistance David Dawson and his mother Lucie Freud. The show also provides
a rare opportunity to take in all of Freud’s work within the Tate collection, including Girl
with a Kitten (1947) and Girl with a White Dog (1950-1).
The display will feature examples of Freud’s etchings which demonstrate some
of his early experiments in the 1940s. As well as some of the large and complex
compositions the artist created in the early 1980s when he rediscovered the medium.
Freud typically depicted the same sitters in both printmaking and paint form and so the
exhibition gives a great insight into his mastery of the mediums.
Alongside Freud’s artwork, there will be a selection of photographs on display
which will reveal more about his work and life and how intertwined the two were. The
photos include Cecil Beaton’s image of Freud in the 1950s at the start of his career
and later images of him in the early 1990s and 2010, which show Freud working in his
studio with his sitters, giving a rare glimpse into the artist at work.
lisa luxx
FESTIVAL
Lucian Freud, Girl with a White Dog 1950-1 © Tate
LIVERPOOL ARAB
ARTS FESTIVAL
16/07–14/11 - Various venues
The new-look version of the annual festival returns this summer with an
extensive multidisciplinary programme of digital and in-person events to
showcase Arab culture. The first wave of the festival programme, spanning
from July to August, includes the world premiere of Eating the Copper Apple
by poet lisa luxx (16-25/07) which raises questions about identity from several complex
perspectives.
An installation by artist Jessica El Mal named Grounds for Concern (16/07-15/08)
questions the concept of land ownership and the true boundaries enforced by
human-made borders. An insightful panel discussion entitled Our Women on the
Ground: Essays by Arab Women Reporting from the Arab World (22/07) will focus
on journalists reporting on their changing homeland. Among the guests are Aida Alami,
Eman Helal, Heba Shbani and the editor of the book on which the event is based Zahra
Hankir.
LAAF is the UK’s longest running festival of Arab arts and culture, encouraging
people to explore and appreciate Arab people and their rich heritage. This year’s event
will be an artist-led response to the climate emergency in the Middle East and North
African region (MENA). The climate crisis is being disproportionately felt in the MENA
region as it faces scorching temperatures, rising sea levels and diminishing resources.
Through performances and visual art, the festival will see artists express the lived
experiences of those from the region as well as addressing the interconnected issues
of imperialism, climate justice and capitalism.
There will also be a new LAAF commission titled 22, a major project that invites
22 Arab creatives from 22 nations to create a multidisciplinary artistic anthology of
climate emergency in the MENA region today.
In response to Covid-19, this year’s LAAF will be expanding from its usual twoweek
festival period in the summer to a much longer festival spanning nearly four
months. The programme will include a mix of physical and online events to celebrate
the best in Arab arts and culture, while connecting physical audiences in Liverpool
with digital audiences around the world.
PREVIEWS
35

PREVIEWS
FESTIVAL
Manchester International Festival
01-18/07 - Various venues
Damon Albarn
Taking over the warehouse city’s rich tapestry of venues and art spaces
for the eighth time, Manchester International Festival returns July for
18 days of visual art, residencies, talks and music. Recently announced
performances include techno boffin and Haçienda legend LAURENT
GARNIER’s UK film premiere of Off The Record, tracing the story of UK
club culture and his involvement in it (Manchester Central, 11/07), plus
a live solo and string quartet appearance from festival friend DAMON
ALBARN (Manchester Central, 13/07). Indoor venues subject to limited
capacity following Covid-19 guidelines.
FILM
Cinema in the City
02-04/07 - Cotton Exchange Rooftop Garden
Panoramic and cinematic views collide this summer with FACT’s Cinema in the City. Supported by Film Hub North, the project offers audiences the chance to experience new
critically acclaimed and award-winning independent films against the backdrop of Liverpool’s iconic architecture atop the resplendent Cotton Exchange on Bixteth Street. The
premieres will be preceded by shorts from emerging local filmmakers, recognising and promoting the city’s local talent. This series features screenings of recently released indies,
including screenings of Francis Lee’s Ammonite starring Kate Winslet and Apples from Greek weird wave director Christos Nikou. Refreshments come from Maray, bringing their
signature Middle Eastern-inspired menu to the rooftop location.
GIG
Max Cooper
03/07 - Grand Central Hall
Max Cooper
London based DJ, MAX COOPER is bringing his intensive visual art
performance to Liverpool’s Grand Central Hall. With sounds ranging from
stark electronica remixes of huge bands like Hot Chip to the fuzzy, buzzing
dancefloor sounds everyone loves, Cooper has developed a mixed-media
approach to creation. Interrogating and furthering the intersection between
electronic art and visual art, Cooper brings his AV performance to life
through the exploration of technology while referencing that which came
before it and does so in a human way.
THEATRE
Little Liverpool Theatre Festival
12-18/07 – St Luke’s Bombed Out Church
A week-long celebration of new and diverse shows that have never been seen by
Liverpool audiences takes over the Bombed Out Church. Set up after the success of
Liverpool Theatre Festival last September, the programme includes cabaret, comedy,
family entertainment and theatre from black, disabled, LGBTQ+ and a diverse array of
makers. The original event was created to help revive the city’s live performance sector
following the effects of Covid-19 and organisers have followed the success with an
open call for creatives to be premiered at the festival. A panel of industry experts then
selected the final line-up from works submitted, curating a programme of shows which
run between 50 and 75 minutes.
St Luke’s Bombed Out Church
36

CLUB
I Hate Models
09/07 - 24 Kitchen Street
The bandana-clad titan of the techno scene debuts at 24 Kitchen Street
after becoming one of the most in-demand underground DJs in Europe. I
HATE MODELS is a mysterious French producer who first broke onto the
techno scene in 2015 and has been ripping up the rule book ever since. He
has embraced acid, EBM, trance, rave culture and psychedelics to create
a unique high energy set. This rescheduled event courtesy of promoters
Wonder Pot also features sets from DJs NIKKI CHONG and BEN SLEIA.
I Hate Models
CLUB
Antal
30/07 - Meraki
An all-day event that is set to bring all the house heads back to the
dancefloor takes over Meraki at the end of the month. It’s one of the
club’s biggest events to date and will see DJ sets from ANTAL, NABIHAH
IQBAL, DAR DISKU and GIOVANNA in the day, while YOUNG MARCO
and ANU take over the stage at night. It’s a milestone occasion for the
former taxi garage-turned-venue, now an intimate club space with a
powerful soundsystem and a DIY ethos that has won an army of loyal
patrons.
Nabihah Iqbal
GIG
PVA + Lazarus Kane
04/07 - Birkenhead Central Library
Initially formed in the aftermath of a house party, three-piece PVA
have since earned a fearsome reputation as one of the capital’s
premier live outfits. Known for raucous live performances, the band
are giving a special all-ages matinée performance at Birkenhead
Central Library on 4th July. While also performing noteworthy
DJ sets, live performances have been the focal point for the trio
of musical polymaths and garnered them hardcore support in
their still formative years. In their string of upcoming independent
shows, PVA are joined by newly signed LAZARUS KANE and
supported by FOLLY GROUP.
PVA
GIG
Monks
30/07 - Future Yard
Good things come to those who wait, and we
welcome with open arms – and a huge sigh of
relief – the first Bido Lito! Social in nearly two
years at Birkenhead’s suntrap venue, Future Yard.
Soundtracking our celebration of issue 116 next
month will be headliners MONKS, with support
coming from Wirral sweethearts A LESSER VERSION
and another artist to be announced. Everyone is
welcome at the Bido Lito! Social – an opportunity to
experience the music of artists appearing in the pink
pages. Bido Lito! Members go free!
THEATRE
Under The Mask
08/07-10/07 - Playhouse
Hundreds of final year medical students had to finish their
studies early and start work on the frontline in March of
last year. Under the Mask follows the journey of Jaskaran,
a newly qualified doctor during the Covid-19 crisis. On
her first day on the Covid Intensive Care Unit, Jaskaran is
not prepared for what she finds. The show was recorded
on location using sounds from real Covid wards with
fully immersive 360-degree sound. The audience listens
through headphones and are given a doctor’s perspective
on the pandemic as they uncover a story of resilience,
hope and strength.
*All dates were correct at the time of writing. Please
check listings as some events may have been moved
or social distancing measures put in place due to the
extension to government restrictions.
PREVIEWS 37

REVIEWS
Shame (Darren Aston)
“They play this
60-capacity room
in Birkenhead
like it’s Wembley
Stadium”
Shame
Future Yard – 31/05
It’s an unusually warm Tuesday evening in
Birkenhead and Future Yard is practically sizzling
with a strange sense of anticipation. Apprehension,
even. After all, for many of us this is the First Gig Back
post-lockdown. Tables of two, six feet apart, masks, no
standing up, no dancing, ordering pints on an app. These
are all unfamiliar things even for seasoned gig-goers.
But as soon as SHAME fly onto the stage, any
apprehension quickly dissipates. Like greyhounds
released from the traps, the South London six-piece
launch straight into a riotous hour of pure post-punk joy.
From the off, frontman Charlie Steen has us completely
under his control. He has a certain look in his eyes as if
he’s bursting with things to tell us – and we’d better be
listening.
“I hope that you’re hearing me” goes the hook of
first album favourite Concrete and, well, we certainly
are. Steen’s voice carries its power not only through its
sheer volume, but through the conviction and clarity of
his diction. Every syllable is carefully executed and is
accompanied with a corresponding point of the finger,
a swing of the mic, a jab of the chin. It almost feels
choreographed. It’s utterly captivating.
Steen’s moves are no better demonstrated than
on set highlight, Nigel Hitter. It is a tight, slick affair
that reflects their growth from an angsty first album
back in 2018 to the more sophisticated sound of this
year’s Drunk Tank Pink. As such, latest single Born
In Luton is another standout. Oscillating between a
jagged, incessant guitar riff in the verses and a haunting,
cinematic chorus, it encapsulates all the intricate
complexities that made Drunk Tank Pink so triumphant.
Oldies like One Rizla are indeed met like the familiar
anthems they are, but it’s their new material that really
impresses.
What is perhaps most striking is that, behind all
the bravado, Shame are a remarkably humble band.
Instead of moping about the irony of playing postpunk
to what looks like an exam
hall full of wooden desks due to
government-enforced rules, they
play this 60-capacity room in
Birkenhead like it’s Wembley
Stadium. They seem genuinely
grateful to be here; a gratitude
that is undeniably reciprocated
by their audience tonight.
Before we know
it, the soaring Station
Wagon brings the set to a
spectacular close. At the
song’s crescendo, Steen is
teetering on the edge of
the stage, standing tall,
arms outstretched, sweat
dripping. It makes for
a dramatic concluding
tableau that lingers in
our minds as we’re
thrust out, stunned,
back into the early
evening sunshine.
The First Gig
Back was always
going to be loaded
with expectation. But tonight, Shame have dispelled any
anxieties that might have been felt an hour ago. Instead,
we’re left with an overwhelming feeling of optimism.
After over a year deprived of live music, there was no
better band than Shame – and no better venue than
Future Yard – to welcome us back.
Alice Williams
Shame (Darren Aston)
38

Penelope Isles
+ Last Living Cannibal
Future Yard – 19/05
For the first show post-lockdown in a country
starting to flicker back to life, it seems appropriate
that two of the most promising current UK acts are
on the bill. This is the second date of PENELOPE
ISLES’ socially-distanced spring tour and, after what
I think we can probably all agree has been a slightly
underwhelming year for live music, it really is a great
pleasure to be, well, back in the room.
Before the headliners, LAST LIVING CANNIBAL
opens the show. Currently promoting his impressive,
self-released debut LP 7 Years, his set is a
demonstration of complex, intricate songwriting.
Opener The Overground is perhaps a perfect
encapsulation of his style-blending hooky, repeated
riffs with intriguing synth leads and understated vocal
lines. The set-up is simple: distorted guitar played
over a pre-programmed backing track, but the effect
is captivating. For the first strains of live music outside
of Zoom streams we have heard in a long time you
could definitely do much, much worse.
Since the release of their first album Until The
Tide Creeps In in 2019, Penelope Isles have, through
relentless touring, developed into one of the best
live bands in the country. Tonight’s performance
only confirms that fact. Brother and sister duo Jack
and Lily Wolter have always been the driving force
in the group but new members Henry Nicholson on
bass and Joe Taylor on drums make up an impressive
rhythm section. Chlorine gets things moving nicely
and is an example of the band’s winning formula of
fusing shimmering morsels of pop with fuzzy sections
of noise-rock experimentation. Just when you’re
settling into the appealing lull of a pristine melody, the
song suddenly plunges into unexpected dissidence. In
this way no track ever feels stale or overwrought.
Not Talking is a showcase for Jack Wolter’s vocal
range. Dream-like and ethereal, the track manages to
convey a sense of fragility with sparse percussion and
delicate chord progressions. One of Penelope Isles’
biggest strengths is the symbiotic vocal harmonising
between the two Wolter siblings and this track
emphasises that in abundance. Leipzig takes the set
into more kinetic territory with its off-kilter, wonky
riffs and 60s, French pop-infused vocal delivery. The
band have been working on their second album and
tonight we are treated to some of the new material
alongside the well-known fan favourites. If these
latest tracks are anything to go by then the new
record may well even be an improvement on their first
effort.
As the set draws to a close, there is a distinct,
triumphant feeling in the room. Even though the
audience is sitting at tables huddled in pairs, it is clear
that a new dawn beckons. Live music is back. The
current experience might feel slightly unfamiliar, but
if the other shows on the horizon feel anywhere near
as good as this one then it won’t matter. Live streams
have gone some way to satiate the hunger for all of
this during the past year, but it doesn’t touch the real
thing. So, get yourself back in the room as soon as
possible. You won’t regret it.
Alastair Dunn
RECONNECT
+ Tosin Trio
+ Beija Flo
+ MC Nelson
Future Yard – 30/05
Today, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, the sun is beaming hot. The black and pink colour palette of
Future Yard’s garden space, where the RECONNECT all-dayer – presented by Future Yard’s Sound Check programme
– begins with an arts fair, DJs and poetry performances, is illuminated in glorious hues. It feels like a world away from
the past year-and-a-half, something more joyous, brighter.
And yet, it’s hard to forget things aren’t fully normal yet. When the live music begins indoors, seated in a pair,
spaced apart from others, you’re reminded that there’s something missing. The smoke, the purple lighting, the taste of
a cold cider, that’s all here, but we’re not able yet to celebrate music fully together, to stand shoulder to shoulder as we
sing along.
As MC NELSON hits the stage, however, you’re distracted from your surroundings quickly. The Aigburth rapper’s
buoyant personality shines through in his performance and is effortlessly engaging. Nelson is an exceptional talent,
marrying established musical references with a fresh perspective and style. He raps with an assurance, commanding
focus from the audience.
Nelson is captivating beyond his stage presence, too. His lyrics celebrate Merseyside culture, while deftly tackling
urgent topics: racism, colonialism, identity. For a festival branding itself as a celebration of Merseyside culture, he’s an
excellent representative. His love for Liverpool is clear, but he continues to always envision a brighter future, the ways
things could be better.
Glam-pop artist BEIJA FLO follows. Reminiscent of both Lorde and Peaches, there’s a theatricality in her art which
is enchanting. Her singing is powerful, explosive, filling every corner of the room. Between songs, her humour and
honesty are endearing. “We’re all in this together,” she jokes at the start of her set. The sentiment feels truer the more
her performance progresses.
Beija Flo talks candidly about human topics; she discusses the body and sexuality with a personable wit. She talks
about her struggles with MRKH syndrome, and quips that she’ll speak about it at every performance until there’s more
awareness. The physical gap between audience and performer shrinks here; she welcomes you into her world, and
she encourages you to take something from it.
The event closes with a performance from blues-rock outfit THE TOSIN TRIO. Like their predecessors, the
performance is a fascinating one. Each member of the group performs their role with a devoted intricacy. Their songs
are expansive, they meander and shift, but you’re invited to follow along, to lose yourself in the journey.
The performance encourages us to pause and think closely about our surroundings. Frontman Tosin Salako (guitar,
vocals) asks us to picture a new world, one not tied to finances, when the band begin their performance of Money,
and the trio’s bluesy cover of The Beatles’ Come Together resonates well tonight: it’s Merseyside culture, but with a
twist. The escapist feeling present here, the instruction to envision something different, is what ties tonight’s three
performances together.
Wyldest
+ Charity Shop Pop
+ Blackaby
Glasswerk @ Grand Central – 22/05
Alfie Verity
It’s hard to ignore the cyclists, cars and passers-by outside the window of the intimate Grand Central. It all so
looks so chaotic out there. For us though, we’re looking forward to our first gig in what seems like forever, and this one
feels like it’s going to be one of those constantly-smiling-to-strangers-because-it’s-all-so-wholesome kind of nights.
Touring her latest album Monthly Friend, WYLDEST is supported by CHARITY SHOP POP and BLACKABY. Monthly
Friend is a reflective journal of 2020, with its main theme being inequality, inspired by events of 2020 from #MeToo
to Black Lives Matter. The LP shows the versatility in Wyldest’s writing and her ability to evolve by harnessing new
sounds and themes.
Ormskirk-based indie-pop artist Charity Shop Pop presses play on the event. His tongue-in-cheek style and
charming personality instantly remind us of what we’ve been missing all this time. His set, although relying on some
pretty modern equipment for a backing track, could live comfortably on the setlist of a high school prom band from a
noughties teen movie. Reminiscent of The 1975, Charity Shop Pop successfully delivers an advert for the summer.
Blackaby takes his seat behind his flower-dressed kick drum and foot-operated snare. Along with his notched
guitar and angelic voice, Blackaby dedicates every last muscle to his indie folk music. We are in a daze from the off,
hypnotised by its beauty. He jokes that one of his songs was inspired by a chatty audience member from a past show.
That won’t be an issue for this event, though. We daren’t speak over this.
Finally, it’s the headliner. Wyldest is the moniker of Zoe Mead, a North London artist whose latest album is the
third of her career. She wastes no time in painting the walls with colour and creating thick sheets of harmony through
trigger pads and loops, confidently demonstrating the value of creating your own backing track live. Wyldest has
such maturity in her writing and a clear vision in her set, which is really quite remarkable given that this project is still
relatively new. Her voice glides from note to note effortlessly and possesses a real folk quality. She compares her voice
to the lottery and states that it’s a risk if her voice is “going to be there,” but we certainly got the three cherries in a row
on this one.
Slinky Malinki
REVIEWS
39

REVIEWS
Tristan Fewings
AI: More Than Human
World Museum – until 31/10
Any mention of artificial intelligence (AI) will likely elicit visions of a dystopian future, where humans are
subordinate to some kind of sentient, machine overlord. However, at the World Museum’s AI: More Than Human
exhibition, it’s a lot more complicated than we think, raising the question of how technologies should be used and
what that could mean for us.
Despite the expansive space, I feel dizzy as if thrown into orbit. I face an onslaught of sounds and visuals coming
from every direction, with intrigued faces glued to the interactive displays. Some are typing away to chatbots, while
others stand to attention, receiving a full body scan. The future is in this room.
The exhibition opens by mapping humanity’s enduring fascination with bringing to life the non-living. From early
religious mythologies to Frankenstein’s monster, the nature and narrative of these creations have differed wildly across
the centuries. Yet there is one glaring connection: the flourishing of artificial life ultimately leads to the downfall and
destruction of its creator.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Aibo?” croons one visitor’s assistant as she pets a small, barking robot dog made
by Sony. Through the use of sensors, little Aibo responds to your speech and touch, and even performs a few tricks
if you stick around long enough. “It’s like a real dog, but without the mess,” I’m reassured, finding it hard to match her
enthusiasm.
The deeper you venture through the displays, the more immersive and thought-provoking they become. One
captivating video shows how, in 2016, Google’s DeepMind developed a computer which used intuitive machine
learning to become the first AI to beat world champion, Lee Sedol, at the strategy game, Go. Yet defeat by this
artificial player did not discourage Sedol for long. In fact, it led him to develop innovative new strategies that had been
unimaginable before. Are we seeing the first beginnings of human-AI competition?
Transitioning from robotic pets into Deep Fake videos of Barack Obama, the displays provide a sobering reminder
of the more dubious ways that technology can be put to use. AI drones mobilised as autonomous weapons reinforce
feelings of inevitable annihilation, while developments in biotechnology have the potential to extend life, and in doing
so challenge the very notions of what we consider ‘natural’.
Then there are the more naturalised forms of AI that are already used every day, one of them being our
smartphones. From shopping habits to political outlooks, our phones and computers employ complex algorithms that
constantly fight for our attention. Though convenient for our busy lives, Big Tech’s countless data security scandals in
recent years have exposed just how susceptible we are to manipulation from the Data Gods we so willingly hand our
information to.
As if walking a tightrope, there is a fine balance to this exhibition. Never does it seek to prophesise where AI will
take us, but rather lays bare its diverse potential and some of the cultural and ethical implications it raises. Tackling
a topic of such complex size and scope, it dips a tentative toe into an ocean we will be forced to dive head-first into
soon. If we are, as it suggests, both “unwitting and active participants” in AI’s evolution and expansion, the biggest
question of this exhibition is one of power and accountability. Technology has no moral compass, unless we equip it
with one. After all, who was the real monster, Frankenstein or his creation?
Nina Newbold / @ninanwbld
Tristan Fewings
40

Bull + Eggs
YEP Directors’ Festival @ The Everyman -
04/06
The annual YEP Directors’ Festival showcases the work of the
Young Everyman and Playhouse’s emerging directors’ programme.
As theatres began to welcome back audiences, our writers took in
two of the productions.
Rossa Murray & The Blowin’ Winds
+ Δnna
Bed & Breakfast @ The Athenaeum – 05/06
Rossa Murray (Kevin Barrett)
Much like the royal red of the venue, the atmosphere of The Athenaeum is warm and welcoming. A
chandelier frames the stage, casting diffracted light on the audience’s chattering faces, who are catching
up on lost time. Most noticeable is the fresh scent which contrasts the customary wild gig smell of spilt
beers and sweaty moshpits. Instead, the set-up is more like a live show in a pub – quirky, personal and
exclusive.
ΔNNA, the first act, fits this environment perfectly. Starting in an endearingly self-conscious way,
she soon draws the attention of the crowd. As she effortlessly finger-picks her way through the songs,
her confidence increases and the smile on her face gets wider and more compelling. She manages to
take up the space by use of her homemade backing tracks and her dexterous guitar-playing. There’s
empowerment within the cynical lyrics, notably evident in Not Your Girl. A sassy, bass-driven track, it
crowns the performance and leaves the audience with a lasting impression.
The room doesn’t appear to notice as the long French windows introduce us to night-time as ROSSA
MURRAY & THE BLOWIN’ WINDS walk onto the stage. It’s only at this point that the dichotomy of a fine
establishment and plastic cups become apparent. Wearing bohemian shirts over plain t-shirts, the band
colours the stage in oranges, purples and blues. Although the music is well suited to the setting, their fans
seem more used to rowdy loud concerts. Yet, the comfort the band exhibits as they begin their set settles
around the room like a blanket.
The shadowed silhouettes of the band members meet on the wall behind the stage, mirroring the
coming together of the harmonies and the harmonious development of the night. Their passionate
head-shaking draws you in as much as the evocative lyrical story-telling does. The lively stage banter
and remarks about paying for a parking ticket don’t detract from how charged even the absence of noise
is. Each aspect of the performance unfurls into a new resounding curiosity, with guitar layering, a cover
of Passionfruit by Drake and the introduction of a trumpet. As the lead singer belts out the notes, I’m
reminded of Paolo Nutini, singing of experiences that only come with age. This band knows where their
music sits and gladly runs with it.
The final song is met in the form of a solo ode to Liverpool. Dedicated to Rossa Murray’s oldest pal,
the crowd sings along loudly to Sophie, in a carefree Irish pub kind of way. Those who don’t know the
lyrics sit in awe, content in the here and now.
Cat Caie
It’s a sell-out show of minimal people tonight – every table is
occupied with huddled pairs leaning over cups and tealights. On the
tables are programmes for half a dozen plays over the next fortnight.
You’re reminded you’re actually seeing something in the flesh again
as you see people’s heads twitch and hair shake when they laugh.
Theatre is back.
There’s a projection of a matador dipping and flickering in a
moving picture show, all black and white with static audio. Then the
music cuts dead and there’s a brash light over an office scene. The
stage is very much our red rag.
Bull was written by Mike Bartlett in the early 2010s – winning
Best New Play at the UK Theatre Awards in October 2013 – and
hasn’t aged in nearly 10 years, especially in the hands of tonight’s
director, Olive Pascha. It’s been 15 months without indoor theatre,
but worth the wait. This is a production that requires a live
enactment; it’s claustrophobic, awkward and sour in a way that
couldn’t be translated to video. There’s ratty management and sneaks
orchestrating the moment to suit themselves. To the audience, it reads
as a sort of bearbaiting of the protagonist, Thomas, as he’s twisted
into a raging grass.
The schoolyard was never a place, it was a conglomerate of
snarky individuals, and according to this they’ve all compressed
themselves into one conference room somewhere in Merseyside. They
confuse people for the hell of it, then rub their nose in the aftermath,
and it’s that universal superior suck-up vantage point that makes
every character, bar Thomas, bitter and gleeful at the same time.
The parallel metaphors of secondary school bullying (recreated
accurately in laboured swearing and insults) and the more classical
bullring comparison are screwed together satisfyingly, revealing
the savage backstabbing of the corporate world with a strange
repertoire of black humour and goading. Never was there more snark,
snidery, snitching, shoe-licking, shit-stirring, feigned ignorance and
competition condensed into 50 minutes of snot-nosed adults nettling
each other for millimetres of the upper-hand. It’s pathetic in the best
way possible.
The titular theme of Eggs is subtly mentioned throughout
this comedy about female friendships and fertility. Fertility, along
with an easter egg and even a sex toy, are all referenced. Florence
Keith-Roach’s play is a Fleabag-esque production that follows the
lives of two young women navigating life, friendships and societal
expectations.
Director Mary Savage handles the writer’s approach to the
subject of sex confidently as both characters are shown to openly talk
about their relationships and sexual history. The rocky relationship
between the characters delves into the ways women are pulled
in various directions due to societal expectations, but are able to
withstand this, as the importance of female friendship is shown to be
paramount. Character A seemingly has her life together, with a steady
relationship, office job and a potential baby on the way. Character B
goes down an unconventional route and questions the plan society
has set out for her, as she feels unfulfilled by her dog-walking job
and wishes to find more meaning in life. Her monologues about life,
consciousness and fulfilment immerse the audience in a captivating
stream of consciousness. Not only do these women feel a career
pressure and an expectation to have the time of their lives in their 20s
– the ticking time bomb of motherhood also hangs over them.
Savage evidently doesn’t think in binaries as there is no defined
hero or villain. Neither character is perfect, nor does Savage try
to shame either for the paths they choose to take. Rather, both
characters are portrayed as flawed individuals that have work to
do on themselves, their relationships and outlooks in life. Coming
away from this production, the audience is reassured with a sense of
comfort as we see ourselves in these characters.
The relatability of the characters and familiarity of locations such
as Ormskirk and Edge Hill create a sense of belief, not only in the
cast but the director, too. The audience understands Savage’s implied
message. Society is complex, but so are we.
Poppy Fair / @_poppyfair_ and Hannah Merchant / @han.merchant
REVIEWS 41

1–4 July
Manchester Central
1–18 July
Manchester Arndale
CEPHAS
WILLIAMS
Sunday 11 July
Manchester Central
ALL
OF
THIS
UNREAL
TIME
Aaron Dessner, Bryce Dessner & Jon Hopkins Composers
Aoife McArdle Film Director, Cillian Murphy Actor
Max Porter Writer
PORTRAIT
OF
BLACK
BRITAIN
LAURENT
GARNIER
OFF
THE
RECORD
Commissioned and produced by Manchester International Festival.
Commissioned by Manchester International Festival. Produced by Manchester International Festival and
The Cephas Williams Company. Image: The image above of Cephas Williams was photographed by Sam Shaw
Produced by Manchester International Festival.
Saturday 17 July
Manchester Central
HOME
COMING
LIVE
Featuring
Rema, Midas the Jagaban, Anz
Hosted by Julie Adenuga
Plus Special Guests
Saturday 10 July
Manchester Central
ROOT
ED
IN
RHYME
Featuring DJ Semtex, SVMI, Culps, Lady Ice,
Rago Loco, Victoria Jane, DJ G-A-Z, DJ Basha
2–18 July
HOME & around Manchester
POET
SLASH
ARTIST
Curated by Hans Ulrich Obrist & Lemn Sissay
Live event curated by Cerys Matthews
Produced A Pre-Factory by Manchester Event. International Commissioned Festival in by partnership Manchester with Homecoming. International Festival and
Images: Stanford Anz (bottom Live at left) Stanford by Joseph University. Burton, others Produced courtesy of by the Manchester artists International Festival.
Wednesday 14 July
Manchester Central
MIF ×
SALAAM
FEST IVAL
Produced by Manchester International Festival in partnership with Unity Radio and the Manchester
Hip Hop Archive. Images: courtesy of artists
From 1 July at
virtual-factory.co.uk
Commissioned and produced by Manchester International Festival and HOME.
A
FESTIVAL
LIKE NO
OTHER
Read more and book for live
and online events at mif.co.uk
Muneera Williams
Sona Jobarteh
Orchestral Qawwali:
Abi Sampa, Rushil, Amrit Singh
Produced by Manchester International Festival in partnership with Salaam Festival.
Images: courtesy of artists
ROBERT YANG
Commissioned and produced by Manchester International Festival.
Image: Eleanor Davis

FUTURE YARD
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ookings
@stepping_tiger
BALIMAYA PROJECT / PYJAEN / JACKSON MATHOD /
noya rao / NIMBUS SEXTET / Renato paris /
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chiminyo / quinn oulton / rosie frater-taylor /
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IS BACK!
30th July
MONKS
A Lesser Version
+ more TBA
Future Yard
30th September
IAMKYAMI
Seagoth
Furry Hug
FREE
ENTRY FOR
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MEMBERS
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3rd December
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whats-on

ARTISTIC
LICENCE
This month’s selection of creative writing comes from Megan
Walder, a piece which channels the sanctity of live music and
the comfort it offers.
It was once I who would be the guardian of a venue. The one with the honour of trading those paper tickets for a
stamp that would stain your skin for the next week. As I fed off of your energy, you would feed off mine.
Your excitement would sustain me until my next fix. Your eagerness to enter another dimension, one that exists solely
in the present, unaffected by the woes of before and the stress of what’s to come. A place where sweat drips from
the ceiling and bodies collide in unison, dancing to a familiar beat.
It was my home for three years. My roots digging deeper with every hit I got, nourished by the community that
formed around me. And one day I awoke to see that the rug, once firmly planted under my feet, had disappeared, and
my lifeline with it.
No honourable dismission or grand leaving party. Just the unfamiliar unease of unsteady ground. My roots began to
rot and my connection to those I once held dear was severed. My portal to the home plains had gone.
The world sat off-kilter as we were starved of normality. Our lives drab and unfulfilled by the wire from the news to
our brains. Confused by inconsistency and boredom. Watching online performances that didn’t quite scratch the itch,
spending money you didn’t have in an attempt to keep those keyholders to the other land afloat.
We scraped by but have not been left unscathed.
The sour taste, ubiquitous this past year, is lessening. No longer does it flow through my veins and poison my
outlook. My roots have begun to regrow, and I’ve tied lost connections back together with scraps of string. I’m edging
closer to a now visible rug, a tangible connection to what once was. Just a couple more steps.
Pass me your paper ticket as my toes edge onto the rug. I’ve not seen home in quite some time, but as the ink from
the stamp finds its way between lines on the back of your hand, usually invisible to the naked eye, I hear a shift.
The shift of a door not there, a window unseen and a world like no other. But a shift. Back to normality, back to a
world unknown. To those who mock our love for these ceremonies, we offer only pity. For they heard nothing, their
heads in clouds that offer no escapism, only ignorance. But you heard that shift, too. And we know that our way out
of here is coming.
It’s not like before, but it’s as close as we’ve got in over a year and for that we praise the powers that be. So, sit and
fidget, thrive in the discomfort of not being able to dance to your favourite song. Hold on to the possibilities that lay
ahead. Order your drinks off an app that makes no sense and, for God’s sake, wear your mask.
The venue understands. As the building nods apologetically and the staff smile under covered mouths, we get why
you’re anxious to return home alongside us. The journey is longer than we first expected.
We’re all as out of practice as one another. Clapping offbeat as the artists faff with an amp that had an inch of dust
atop of it just minutes before soundcheck.
Be prepared for what once would be the worst experience of live music you could have possibly envisioned. To grasp
at the shortest straws imaginable. It should have you wishing for the good old days. But it doesn’t. Because you’re
back amongst your people.
As the power of live music encompasses the room, the presumptions of how you’d feel are left at the door. For all the
inconveniences this world now has us endure, this is better than nothing.
Because, like me, you feel your soul return. Like me, the rug is under your feet once more, and each gig you sit at is
just an inch closer to the safe zone. To the point where you can once again visit the dimension that you call home.
The place where you found yourself. Where you could shed the preconceptions others had of you, drop the socionormative
cloak that you wear day in, day out, and simply be.
But until then, we take what we can get. So, pass me your hand and accept these new conditions. Because they’re
only temporary.
We hope.
Words: Megan Walder / @m_l_wald
46

THE FINAL
SAY
Joanne Anderson (Jennifer Bruce/Liverpool City Council)
“Progressive
policies to protect
both the creative
industries and
the planet can
work in tandem”
Conal Cunningham considers what Joanne Anderson’s mayoral election means for the climate,
communities and culture of the city.
At the local elections in early May, Joanne
Anderson made history as the first black
woman to be elected mayor of a major UK
city. Considering the turmoil Liverpool has
faced of late, after a year of coronavirus restrictions and
criminal investigations into senior council members, her
victory perhaps did not get the attention it deserved. So,
along with her promise of a fresh start, what is the newly
elected mayor offering us in terms of change, hope, and
progressiveness?
A triple lock of ‘people, planet, equality’ is Mayor
Anderson’s mantra for the future of Liverpool and is
guaranteed to be at the heart of the council’s every
decision moving forward. This means that investment in
jobs, infrastructure and regeneration will all be determined
on how it can most benefit people in the community,
with a pledge that all voices will be heard in the decision
process. Equality of opportunity across the city region is
also a priority, and the environmental impact of all local
policies will be assessed in order to achieve Liverpool’s
ambitious 2030 carbon net-zero target.
In the short to medium term, commitment to people
and equality are elements of the new mayor’s mantra
that will likely be focused on. Without doubt, rebuilding
transparency and trust within the council, addressing
social inequalities and ensuring a thorough recovery from
the pandemic are pressing issues that must be worked
through diligently.
The existential threat of climate change, however, is
something which must take precedence. With extreme
weather patterns becoming ever more frequent, the cost
of inaction foreshadows a future not wholly unimaginable
from the present; a warming world where the extreme
becomes commonplace, a life susceptible to natural
disasters, an existence with an escalating loss of habitat.
Considering Liverpool’s coastal locality, and the havoc
extreme flooding could wreak on the city, the time to act
is now.
This is not to say that there have been no steps
towards becoming a greener city, however. Over the
past 15 years, with an increasing switch to green energy,
there has been a 42 per cent reduction in the city’s carbon
emissions. Nonetheless, it is evident that this action must
be ramped up in order to meet Liverpool’s net-zero target
by the end of the decade.
Looking into Mayor Anderson’s policies, the former
Princes Park councillor has pledged that, moving forward,
the council will only work with contractors that reduce
their impact on the environment. This includes initiatives
to build energy efficient public buildings and council
houses, as well as a ‘retrofitting revolution’ to ensure the
region’s homes become carbon neutral.
In addition to this, there are promises to protect the
city’s green spaces, an introduction of ‘green corridors’ to
promote active (walking and cycling) travel, as well as the
creation of high-quality green jobs.
This all sounds very promising, although at present
there is not too much in the specifics of what these green
jobs will look like or where they will be created, apart from
them assisting with the ‘clean growth’ of the city. This
means that community participation in local government
and future policy conversations is essential. If investment
in green energy, technology and infrastructure is going to
be ramped up, it is critical that the communities impacted
have a say on where this money is to be spent, and no
area of the city is left behind or disadvantaged by the
changes.
As the city shifts with rapid and permanent changes
towards green energy, it is vital that this message is
articulated and understood by everyone in the region,
with changes coming at no detriment to any person or
industry. The inevitable shift towards electric vehicles for
personal and public transport, for example, should be fully
explained and come with no added complications or costs
to the consumer.
Bringing people along in these decisions and working
together to build a truly sustainable city has the perceived
benefits of increasing community spirit across the region,
yet more importantly, it is perhaps the only way to meet
the city’s radical net-zero goal – set two decades ahead of
the overall UK target.
Of course, alongside the necessary commitments
towards green energy, there are other promises in the
mayor’s manifesto, including investment in our culture,
arts, creative and digital sectors. This is reassuring, but
must be followed through with appropriate assistance
considering the devastating impact the pandemic has had
on these industries.
Aligned with Anderson’s green, community-driven
mantra, this pledge will bring hope to the music and arts
communities of the city, as the skewed preference of
infrastructure over the arts may finally begin to become
more balanced. Under the former mayor’s tenure, the city
centre has been consistently built upon, with excessive
gentrification and rising rents forcing the closure of some
of our much-loved independent venues and studios – with
the Kazimier, Nation, Sound, and Constellations to name
but a sorely missed few.
Crucially, however, progressive policies to protect
both the creative industries and the planet can work in
tandem. Restrictions on over-construction will inevitably
bring down construction emissions and spiralling rents,
while the preservation of the city’s cultural scene will
guarantee tourism, job protection, community satisfaction,
and the great tradition of being a world-leading city of
music and culture.
So, while there may be distrust and scepticism in the
city council at present, Mayor Anderson’s pledges provide
an encouraging, progressive step forward. While action
will certainly need to match her rhetoric, her inclusive,
ambitious policies can help to rebuild relationships with
communities as the city recovers from the pandemic.
Working towards this along with the pivotal task of
reaching carbon net-zero by the end of the decade, the
mayor and the council will undoubtedly need our full
support. !
Words: Conal Cunningham
47