Nice ‘Werk
“It’s back to the 80s!” declares Shaun Ryder enthusiastically, as Happy Mondays launch into the third track in a row from their 1990 album Pills, Thrills & Bellyaches.
Give or take the odd rather picky music journalist, no-one ‘s really complaining. After all, to paraphrase a well worn saying, if Shaun Ryder remembers it, then it’s pretty certain that none of us was there.
In any case, if there’s a little vagueness around the criteria UK’s biggest celebration of ‘post-punk’ then it’s a vagueness that bends the rules and allows the booking of some excellent acts. The Mondays, for example, draw an enthusiastic crowd to the second stage, and seem in unusually fine fettle as they rattle through a series of big hitters from the crease of the 80s and 90s, with ‘Kinky Afro’, ‘God’s Cop’ and ‘Step On’ all being welcomed like long lost relatives. The death of guitarist Mark Ryder has had a noticeable effect – ’24 Hour Party People’ certainly missed his razor sharp funk licks, a musical focal point around which the sometime chaotic band could rally, but Bez and Shaun attack the setlist with more energy than we’ve seen them employ for some time.
Alas, they do fall prey to the overrunning schedule on the Other Stage, dubbed by many in attendance as the ‘disused car park stage’ because of the rubble underfoot and its none too pleasant ambience, its main feature being a handful of portaloos. The plugs on the PA are unceremoniously pulled midway through ‘Wrote For Luck’, leaving them blissfully unaware and partying on to the sound of their monitors as the crowd dissipates.
It’s not very dignified, and quite amazingly it’s repeated for both The Damned, who only manage to get half way through their performance of The Black Album before bailing out with a scorching ‘New Rose’, and Jim Reid of The Jesus & Mary Chain after them. The latter is NOT pleased, understandably, although he does have just about time to make a mark with the classic ‘Some Candy Talking’ and some irresistible Stooges-style grinding all round.
It’s a shame, but if anything it’s down to the embarrassment of riches on the bill, which means that the likes of PiL – the real inventor of post-punk, if ever there was one – and Theatre of Hate end up on the second stage while the undeniably less pivotal Berlin and UK Decay play to small crowds in the main arena.
Things on the main stage do at least operate not only to time but also in fairly spectacular style, with massive screens and immaculate sound. Psychedelic Furs and Johnny Marr’s sets step things up atmosphere-wise for sure, with Marr perhaps wisely opting for plenty of Smiths songs and his now well-rehearsed renditions of Electronic’s ‘Getting Away With It’ and Iggy Pop’s ‘The Passenger’. His elongated, winding introduction to ‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want’ shows just what a breathtaking guitar player he’s still capable of being. That’s what we came for – and he delivers in spades.
As a member of one of the original punk crew the Bromley Contingent turned LA-bound sunkissed pop rock star, it’s hard to see where Billy Idol fits into the post-punk agenda. But when you’ve got a persona that half Sid Vicious snarl, half Adam Ant leather trousered rock pantomime principal, not to mention a clutch of very memorable songs (‘Mony Mony’ being our favourite, but by no means the only anthem), your presence is not going to be disputed. Punk? Possibly. Entertaining? Definitely.
The The may bring a shadier, dark vibe after the wall-to-wall, more than occasionally wry smiles of Idol, but Matt Johnson also comes with oodles of classy arrangements and a deep, resonant voice that’s even more distinctive than the main stage’s previous inhabitant. He’s also, much more in the punk spirit, brave enough to leave aside trademark tunes like ‘Heartland’ and ‘This Is The Day’ but include the doomy but compulsive (and lyrically contemporary) ‘Cognitive Dissident’, from his latest album Ensoulement. It’s a risky approach – but it ultimately actually elevates their set from its comfortably nostalgic surroundings into the realms of vitality and currency. Johnny Marr has been a longtime foil of Johnson’s – although in recent years he’s worked with many of our favourite people from DJ Food to People Like Us – and his presence on the bill suggested the delicious potential of them teaming up. We’re not to be disappointed, either.
The former Smiths man is introduced a few songs in and lends his six strings to ‘The Beat(en) Generation’ and ‘Dogs of Lust’ before surreptitiously heading back into the shadows. He never attempts to upstage Johnson, but still creates an unforgettable moment.
After the traditional closer, a slightly truncated – or so it feels – ‘Giant’, comes the parting of the ways. The more technophobic elements of the crowd head out of the main arena towards Death Cult, The Cult’s early 80s incarnation, while the sun sets and the anticipation of the reason many of us are here, simply grows and grows. Kraftwerk‘s only UK show of 2025.
So much for no new music… Even before they arrive on stage, we’re treated to several minutes of gorgeous, gently gloopy ambient tones that none of the ‘Werk experts we’re with seem to have ever heard before. Bonus!
Then on they come and in we go – a spiky sounding ‘Numbers’ and ‘Computer World’, the sound crystal clear and wonderfully loud, seemingly impervious to the blowy gale that suddenly whips up and cools the generally overheated masses. Seems right somehow.
From our vantage point half way up the bank of the bowl, it’s a visually as well as musically stunning experience, scrambled colours flying everywhere, occasionally punctuated by massive slogans for maximum emphasis. Obviously, it’s a list of well worn and much loved classics, from ‘The Model’, now seemingly a fixture in the set after years of being an occasional treat, to ‘Spacelab’, ‘Man Machine’, ‘We Are The Robots’ and ‘Radioactivity’.
That, we were expecting. But what came as more of a surprise is the extent to which the Kraftwerk set is now played live. ‘It’s More Fun To Compute’ treads familiar ground for its first half, but the second part is overhauled in a plethora of filter fun. ‘Autobahn’ gets a new dimension of sub-bassy keyboard tones that threaten to crack the Bowl’s dry earth asunder. ‘Trance Europe Express’ now boasts a middle section of razor edged clanking that’s half Art of Noise, half ‘Quoth’-era Aphex.
It’s truly thrilling to behold, especially for those who are seasoned regulars back on a return visit. Even since their last UK show at Victoria Park in 2022, and no doubt at least partly a result of the huge US tour they’ve been on, they’re sounding fresher and leaner than ever. Not everyone, not even everyone here today, agrees, but to these ears, when they’re in full flow, Kraftwerk sound like the best band in the world being better than ever.
As for Forever Now, while it certainly had its teething troubles, we’re hope it’s not the last we’ve seen of the post-punk knees up. The rumours say it’s set for a five year run. Let’s hope they’re right, give or take the odd car park.
Ben Willmott
