Another year, another Let's Rock (our sixth I think) and as usual it packed in more 80s acts than a KTel Raiders Of The Pop Charts album (remember them kids?). First up Livin' Joy, Neal X (Marc Almond's musical foil for the past decade or two and former member of Sigue Sigue Sputnik), Janet Kay (pictured above) and Odyssey, all of whom did a couple of tracks designed to warm up the crowd which, let's face it, is a bit of a challenge at our age.
Blancmange up next. Always a favourite of mine and Uncle Neil gave us a particularly spirited rendition of Livin' On The Ceiling in an all too short set. Speaking of short sets who the hell gave Hue and Cry just 20 minutes?
I was halfway to the loo/bar when they came on, kicking off with Looking For Linda, and managed to dash back (sloshing pints in hand) just in time for the remaining three songs including the truly funktastic Labour Of Love. Give 'em an hour next time please.
Sinitta had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction and threw her toys out the pram, berating her poor dancers when she couldn't find her Toy Boy t-shirt appropriately enough. She could've borrowed Roland Gift's jacket if she'd waited around for a few minutes.
Gift's one of the 80s great lost voices in my humble opinion. Fine Young Cannibals were massive for a while but I believe he packed it all in to spend time with his kids. Fair enough. That voice is still in fine form though, especially on a spunky run through one of FYC's finest ska/jazz/rock/pop fusions Johnny Come Home.
From one Brummie to whole bunch of 'em...The Beat...and I was dead chuffed to see Dave Wakeling up there as I was expecting the Ranking Roger Jnr version (nowt wrong with that but I'd seen that version...with Ranking Snr before). Wakeling still has that fire in his belly, ruefully noting that the world's in just as much of a mess now as it was back in the very early 80s when recession, inflation and the imminent threat of nuclear war was just a moment away.
Still, he did play a light and breezy Can't Get Used To Losing You and awesomely brooding Mirror In The Bathroom, so if we all go up in giant mushroom cloud next week I can die a happy man.
Next up The Farm. Lead farmer Peter Hooten looks barely a day older than back in the late 80s/early 90s...but maybe he just looked a bit knackered back then.
Anyway, I finally got to see 'em do Groovy Train live so I could do that weird Bez type dance with my hands in the air and All Together Now, possibly the only top 5 single to fuse lyrics about a World War 1 footie match with music from Pachelbel's Canon.
I had reservations about a Fergal Sharkey-less Undertones but 'new' (24 years and counting) lead singer Paul McLoone does a top notch job of delivering some of the finest two minute pop songs the world's ever heard.
He's got a bit more swagger than Fergal and managed to blaze through everything from Jimmy Jimmy to Here Comes The Summer (a set and festival highlight for me) to the anthemic Teenage Kicks without seeming to pause for breath. Alright!
Having stood at the front for 6 hours or so we needed a wander so we only heard Go West in the distance but they sounded okay.
Still with me? Good. Nearly there. Midge Ure next and it was nice to hear Fade To Grey get an airing again but it was the twin classics of Dancing With Tears In My Eyes and Vienna that got the biggest cheers.
I love Tony Hadley. I'll just put that out there if he fancies a pie and pint one day.
Forty plus years on from Spandau Ballet's first hits that voice has mellowed and warmed like a big piece of brie left out in the sun. He makes it all look and sound so effortless (and this after playing a gig in Italy the night before). Gold, True, Through The Barricades, To Cut A Long Story Short...all backed by a band that clearly love playing this stuff as much as Tone does. Surely a Glastonbury legend slot beckons?
All too soon we were down to the last two acts, OMD, who seemed to be the highlight for a lot of the crowd (I loved 'em too but I've seem 'em play Let's Rock a couple of times already) and then the mighty Soft Cell. Amazingly Dave Ball showed up, despite his pretty serious health issues, and the whole set (bathed in the western world's entire supply of dry ice) sent me spinning dizzily (maybe that was the vodka?) back to hearing Non Stop Erotic Cabaret for the first time in 1983, a mere 40 years ago. Good grief.
As a massive fan of the Cell I would've liked an eighteen hour set but over sixty minutes they crammed in most of the hits, ending on a particularly emotional Say Hello Wave Goodbye, as several thousand slightly squiffy 50 somethings waved their hands and inflatable pink flamingos in the air in perfect sync. As Dave waved back from his wheelchair I wondered if I'd ever get to see them play live again. I do hope so, but if this was my last night (in sodom) I had really a Ball...
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