By Eden Chambers, President
Bringing back the sound of the 90s, the Happy Mondays’ highly anticipated stop in Bristol drew people far and wide from the south west to revel in nostalgia for a simpler time.
The Farm, another chart-topping group, opened the concert and got the crowd moving to its blend of groovy bass lines and disco-esque guitar riffs that melted into the 90s rock sound. Lead singer and founder Peter Hooten touched the Bristolian spirit, as ‘fuck the politicians, let the music take control’ echoed through the concert hall. Using their platform to spread sociopolitical messages of tolerance and peace, the lovechild of reggae and The Stone Roses that is The Farm set it up to be a night of love and humanity through the celebration of epic music.
Not everyone may feel as at home hanging out with our parents’ generation as I do, but it would be hard to find a room vibrating with the energy of reinvigorated youth. To kick off their set, leading lady Firouzeh Razavi appeared on stage in a punky, gladiator-inspired get-up and filled the air with her sirensound, its power bouncing off the walls, radiating in my body and making the hair on my arms stand on end. Her presence was magnetic and tamed the roaring crowd to a focused, buzzing excitement ready for the fun to begin. Awesome.
After the other supporting musicians had taken their places, at last frontmen Shaun Ryder and Mark ‘Bez’ Berry took to the stage to celebrate 35 years of Pills 'n' Thrills And Bellyaches, their seminal album and a nod to their hedonistic musical careers. As the familiar chords of ‘Kinky Afro’ rang out, the crowd burst into dance, unable (and unwilling) to fight the groovy rhythms of the music from their youth. Meeting at the intersection of an almost trip hop-esque electronic sound and 90s northern rock, Happy Mondays’ music seemed to have captured the hearts of a diverse audience, ranging from ravers to shroom-takers and everyone in between.
Having only ever heard the group’s music, I was delightfully surprised by Bez’s hypnotic movements accompanying the band’s music, which sometimes resembled dancing and others looked like a ritualistic transferral of energy, using his maracas, from his body to whomever he chose in the audience.
The necessity of his credits on albums and presence on the stage has historically been questioned, but in this performance, it made total sense to me. Bez acted as the transcendental bridge between the low-maintenance, effortlessly cool stage presence of the musicians and the vibrant crowd. In fact, what really twisted my melon as I revelled in Bez’s so-called ‘Bezness’ was that we don’t have musical mascots anymore! Gone are the days of Chas Smash’s energetic jig accompanying Madness or the animated dancing of The Stone Roses’ technician-come-vibes guy, Cressa. These guys were responsible for maintaining the atmosphere and high energy, giving attention to different parts of the crowd to make sure everyone was having a good time, and Bez fulfilled his role dutifully.
As the song came to a close, Ryder began to address the audience when Bez made it clear he wanted to say something. ‘This is dangerous,’ Ryder laughed, but Bez was quick to take the mic before the opportunity closed. ‘How can I be dangerous on the microphone when I’m in Bristol, the city of freethinkers?’ he protested, and the crowd erupted. It was refreshing to see artists using their platform to speak about subjects, like war or injustice, that are often deemed taboo and swept under the carpet in the celebrity circle.
Similarly, there were very few phones to be seen, unlike my most recent live music event in a Bristol club, where I couldn’t see through the sea of phones to the stage. It completely altered the authenticity of the performance, allowing artists to perform for a present crowd that was not focused on ‘clip-farming’, and nor were the performers. This may be due to the age demographic that filled the room, as the incessant jokes about being old wouldn’t let us forget, but I truly think that the kind of groove that Happy Mondays puts down doesn’t grow old and speaks to the soul, entirely encompassing the viewer and rendering the phone a barrier to the show.
I may not have been alive when the general populace of the crowd was enjoying their music the first time around, but this is exactly the kind of music that needs a resurgence, most of all in Bristol! I’d love to see this quasi-dance-psychedellic-rock fusion come back to the circuit.
Sophie Stradling
The gig featured the Happy Mondays’ greatest hits, including ‘Bob’s Yer Uncle’, ‘24 Hour Party People’, and, most famously, ‘Step On’, which got the place jumping all the way up to the balconies where people desperately leaned over to get just that inch closer to the irresistible aura beaming from the band. They exuded a kind of ease that comes from being legends of their day, allowing the audience to relax and a contagion of fun to spread throughout the concert hall.
As the concert headed towards its end, the audience’s energy surged one more time and filled the air with chants of ‘one more song’ and unwanted marriage proposals to Bez from an overzealous fan, especially awkward considering his wife had been performing with him all night! Unphased, Bez’s laser eye contact connected with someone in the crowd, and he bestowed one of his maracas during ‘Wrote for Luck’ upon the teenage boy who had been rocking out all evening in front of me. As he turned to his dad and brother to weep with exultation into their arms, I reflected on the intergenerational reach of their music.
I, too, had only become acquainted with their unique sound from my parents’ insistence on what they deemed essential music education. In a time of so much division, it filled me with optimism to be rubbing shoulders with people from different backgrounds, generations, even political opinions for all I know, but all gathered to just enjoy the cosmic waves of Happy Mondays.
Featured image: Epigram / Eden ChambersWhat is your favourite track on Pills 'n' Thrills And Bellyaches?
