Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
“’Cause why get less if you could get more?” enquire headliners Royal Republic, in their signature track ‘Getting Along’, as darkness descends upon the middle day of this year’s Call Of The Wild. It’s a rhetorical question that could so easily be the advertising hook line for this burgeoning festival. There’s something for everyone amongst the billing all enwrapped in a truly friendly and genuinely electric yet intimate environment. In a nutshell this is a festival that truly punches well above its weight.
Following the Friday night shenanigans that went on into the wee hours Saturday dawns bright and sunny. Metaphorical legs are stretched, and a single bleary eye is opened as sunlight pierces the tent’s canvas and the interior heats up to volcanic proportions all before the ungodly hour of 6am. Well, it wouldn’t be a festival without this hungover morning ritual, would it?
With a cheery combined “Wakey, wakey!” from Jackie Chambers and Julia Calvo opening act Syteria burst into the morning sunlight. It’s fully fifty minutes before noon and the quartet are full of energy showing no signs of their trek from their Yorkshire base. It appears that Call Of The Wild isn’t quite so ‘wild’ at this early juncture as Jackie cheekily rallies the troops “Hurry up those in the tents!”
Arising from their Saturday slumbers the fuzzy-edged inhabitants of the showground are further awoken by the punchy punky opening chords of ‘Guilty’ that punctuate across the Lincolnshire countryside. Having followed the band since first catching them live at Whitehaven’s Haven or Hell festival back in 2017 I’m a little perplexed as to their position on the bill but the band show no concerns as they breeze through their set.
The Rocket Queen dance quartet – all fishnets and branded ‘dancewear’ – are ushered on-stage for a pin-sharp ‘I’m All Woman’. Having spotlighted their first two albums Syteria switch their collective attention to ‘Syteria World’, their most recent long-playing release.
With a video debuted just a few days prior ‘Chasing Dreams’ takes the energy of their early chapters and uplifts even further. Steph Dawson’s bass quakingly rumbles as Jax’s raw six-stringing neatly contrasts in ‘It Hit Me’. Like the tastiest banquet the infectious hook goes down an absolute treat with the continually growing ranks. Reminiscent of the vein of summery pop-punk of The Runaways and The Go-Go’s this pairing show a progressing positivity.
With a “Hell to the yes!” Julia checks a handily placed mirror introducing the tongue-in-cheek ‘Plastic Fantastic’. Afterall “It’s all skin deep” as the song goes. Vigorously and bush-tailed it matches the blue skies above. Despatched into the morning air with the promise of summer, and a good degree of aplomb, the rousing ‘Revolution’ returns to the ‘Rant O Bot’ debut. Vividly bright-eyed it’s still as fresh as it was eight years ago with the three out-front, at track end, ‘machine-gunning’ the crowd atop Pablo Calvo’s rapid rat-a-tat percussions.
The spiky ‘Monsters’ claws drawing blood prior to the hooky impact of ‘Make Some Noise’ strikes a home run. For the set finale we’re treated to a touch of ‘scary’ in the Lincolnshire sunshine. Approving of the ‘terrifying’ blood-letting screams of the Call Of The Wild crowd sweets are liberally scattered by the band afore the serious business of concluding a typically coruscant half-hour with 2018 single ‘Halloween’.
It’s always great to see Peterborough quadrumvirate Austin Gold, be it at Love Rocks or Steelhouse for example, they seem at home in whatever sized environment they find themselves in. These 70s-infused rockers with slick riffs, clinquant keys and a mean son-of-a-gun rhythm coupled with an ample degree of hoods-down sunshine are, indeed, the perfect summer festival band.
Each time I catch this four-piece in action it’s much like I’m seeing them for the first time; somehow, and I can’t fathom why, I realise quite how much I’ve forgotten how damn fine this band is. Whatever the reason is, the endorphins rush of the refreshing realisation is a pleasurable one I get to savour time and again. With the launch, late last year, of their third album ‘Ain’t No Saint’ the setlist has been rejigged a bit to accommodate a triplet from this offering. However, even within the confines of a 35-minute set both their other albums plus their eponymous 2019 EP are represented.
The slick highway rocking of the Planet Rock approved ‘Mountain’ cuts right to the chase; it’s southern feel perfect with the day having just shifted from ante to post meridiem. A Rolls Royce of a rocker entwining the likes of Deep Purple and Free in the most delicious of spicy wraps. Anyone for a spot of spinetingling?
The sandpapery AOR of ‘Hell Or High Water’ is the first of the afternoon’s inspection of ‘Ain’t No Saint’ as high clouds, without threat, scud across the arena. Saturday’s favourable weather isn’t lost upon frontman David James Smith, “I’m not gonna mention how blessed we are with the weather” continuing, enthusiastically, after a brief pause “But how good is it?”
Catchy as heck ‘The Wire Defines’ wishes it was ’76 whilst encouraging winding down the roof for that wind in the hair vibrancy with its easy feel tones. Genial keyboardist Adam Leon forms a two-handed heart on his chest as Smith pays respect to the merch wearing fans in the crowd. With its Led Zeppelin capture ‘Another Kinda Bad’, off debut album ’Before Dark Clouds’ takes granular Stateside freeway rock, and COTW, to stratospheric levels.
Bruce Hornsby styled piano keys courtesy of Leon’s Korg blend effortlessly with Smith’s raw and bleeding fretwork along with the head-nodding beats despatched by bassist Lee Churchill and drummer James Pepper in the gritty blues infusion of ‘Caught On You’; the solitary inspection of the band’s 2019 self-titled EP.
There’s a shimmering daub of Boston in ‘Hang Fire’ as the US buzz continues with casual intensity. Out front, up to the barrier, is one of the defining images of COTW. Youngster Smiler T, in his wheelchair, with a smile as wide as the North Sea rocks out without a single care in the world living his best life. This perfectly encapsulates the very magic of the rock community as a whole and festivals like Call Of The Wild.
Austin Gold close upon high with roughed up and tussled ‘Never End’. A heads down, no-nonsense number the COTW choir is in fine voice. Hard accelerating with a steep upwards trajectory it engages a sizeable percentage of with its lofty airs. Austin Gold have served another reminder of their understated talent and 21st century rocking.
Bursting daredevil out of the bustling Bristol alt-metal scene at breakneck velocity quintet Kite Thief ‘challenge’ COTW with the boundary-pushing genre-blurring take on all things metalliferous. Hot footing it out of their adopted home city, in the blazing footsteps of fellow Bristolians Mother Vulture, with a couple of EPs and a slew of singles under their belt they are steadily beginning to establish themselves across the UK.
Having formed whilst at university Kite Thief have since graduated to slots at festivals such as 2000trees, Takedown, and Wildfire whilst unleashing a couple of EPs. The five tracks that comprise the ‘Ambiviolent’ EP, from 2023, are all aired along with a couple from 2022’s ‘Factory Sessions’ and a particularly tempestuous new track ‘Bite’.
Taking to the Southall Lawless stage to an energetic ‘tribal’ intro that booms and shimmers in e qual measures Kite Thief gather together ahead of the impending storm. Lincolnshire is, seemingly, largely unawares of what is to be unleashed upon its genteel surrounds. With a don’t give a fuck attitude from the off the alt-metallers detonate with a sizeable kinetic.
With the slamming impact of ‘Judge Judy & Executioner’ Kite Thief set about introducing themselves to Call Of The Wild. With a melding of Infected Rain and Paramore in the engine room of the band additionally there’s more than a touch of Gwen Stefani in Elin Allan’s vocals. Amidst the metal fury there’s the techno-crossover of the relatively new track ‘Bite’; debuted late last year at their show at Bristol’s renown Thekla venue it brings in a slice of Halestorm to the brew.
‘Goldsick’ delivers an apocalyptic vibrancy, imagine an explosion in the largest of glitter factories and you’re on the correct path. The industrious stampede of ‘Allegedly’, craned in from 2022’s ‘Factory Sessions’ EP, pushes the boundaries out even further. The band are enjoying meeting COTW with Elin assisting one of her guitarists back up from the pit during an energised ‘Ambiviolent’, its blend of metal and techno producing a 21st century output not dissimilar to an alloy of Linkin Park and Evanescence.
By the time the avalanche of ‘Shush’ begins its obstreperous incursion I’m absolutely certain that this is a band that needs to be seen, and heard, at forwards thinking festivals like Bloodstock. The hard-hitting dynamics of ‘The Tide’ gets COTW jumping ahead of the set-closing modernistic effervescence from ‘Hindsight’. COTW have subscribed to this swerveball from the Westcountry whose next gig is a trek deeper Westwards to open up for Kris Barras on the unlikely venue of Drakes Island, Plymouth.
With a roaring Celtic battlecry Black Lakes come hollering from their native South Wales. Cowled and caped, with a swirling air of mystery intensifying, the five-piece assemble with the quartet out front with their backs to the COTW arena facing the percussive arsenal employed by drummer Dafydd Fuller.
With a surging of energy, right on cue, turning to the swelling crowd the angst-soaked kinetic of their signature tune ‘Verity In Flames’ is dynamically untethered. An embrace with an underworldly warmth cwtches the showground in its skeletal grasp. Clearly a draw judging by the amount of band merch proudly on display Black Lakes are well supported hereabouts.
One of a considerable number of bands from the musically fecund homelands of South Wales they are on the verge of something spectacular. With two albums in their catalogue, they’re no longer one a ‘best kept secret. Fully untamed the maelstrom is despatched as the demons clamour for control in the raw and bleeding atmospherics of ‘Burn’.
The heartfelt emotives of ‘White Cliffs’ tackles a difficult subject matter provoking thought upon one of the trickiest subjects that dominates political discussion. Its resounding resonance echoes across the surrounding Lincolnshire countryside. With tears emanating from the darkest of hearts ‘Avarice’ rabbets with the keen-edged of steely blades.
Guitarist Scott Bradshaw receives birthday greetings, in time honoured fashion, prior to the ascent from the atramentous abyss of ‘The Divide’. “Now you’re one of us” welcomes vocalist Will Preston. Flanked by Bradshaw and his fellow guitarist James Rowland Black Lakes are a force to be reckoned with.
All atop the most solid of quakeproof foundations laid down by the enigmatic bassist Lee Harris and his partner in the low-end Fuller.
“A song about rebellion!” introduces Preston launching into the melancholic evocations of ‘Fragments’. Oozing Celtic clan strengths a potent message is delivered. Horns raised to salute the COTW assembly I have absolutely no doubt that this is a band that belongs to the bigger stages. Their performance opening the Sophie Lancaster on the final day of last year’s Bloodstock began this affirmation which is sweetly concluded here in the sunshine of Eastern England.
The epic Welshness, as a thousand screams are washed away, of the exuberant ‘Hurricane’ is followed by the tasty pummelling of fan favourite ‘Dissident’. At odds with the day’s pleasant climes a storm rages and mist swirls upon the upper reaches of the moorland and all that remains is for the title track of last year’s sophomore release ‘Dead Gods’ to bump the gooses and tingle the spines one last time.
From prelude to epilogue, via prologue, Oli Brown & The Dead Collective, over the course of the last three years, have embarked upon a cathartic odyssey. Accompanied by his close friends Wayne Proctor (drums) and Sam Wood (guitar) Oli Brown, the youthful blues prodigy and RavenEye frontman, continues to pour his inner soul into his musical performances.
Firmly grasping the baton from Black Lakes, the atmospherics are rocketed even higher by The Dead Collective. There might be just the three of them onstage, but the intensity is such that it equals the output of a sizeable industrial workforce. With coruscant drums and twin guitars the hair-raising opening track ‘Goliath’ enters the fray. Soaring effortlessly this, as yet unreleased, track enthrals and captivates; one feels totally absorbed.
An emotionally drenched ‘Haunted’, the first release under The Dead Collective banner, remains a powerful impact. There has been no lessening or dilution of the product over the last three years. There’s a beautiful bluesy interlude in which Brown appears lost in a personal moment. The chemistry between this trio is so very natural, something that cannot be taught. The blistering fretwork of Brown and Wood atop Proctor’s thunder is an offering to behold.
Another new-to-me track ‘Everything You Want’ possesses a gritty, dirty intro and proudly raises hairs and goosebumps alike. Even a guitar cable misbehaving, much to Brown and Wood’s amusement, isn’t going to derail matters. With dark eddies in obsidian tainted waters the heavy vortex of ‘Cracks’ is a striking resonance. Gripping his mic two-handed Brown dispenses the opening lines with an oh so rare emotion.
‘Estranged’, harnessing a strenghty elevation, is a surefire passion; “In silence we scream” emotes Brown. Leading into the granular, arenaceous realms of ‘Heard It All Before’ the triumvirate takes COTW firmly by the hand. The achingly pulchritudinous ‘Your Love’ brings forth tears with consummate ease. Brown’s craft is pure sensitivity, with his voicing crackling with an inner emotion.
Soaring and gliding upon unseen thermals the set-closing ‘Home Sweet Home’ brings the house down. A song of the sirens the fretwork is afire; the seamless trading between Wood and Brown is as bewitching as it is compelling. As the final notes radiate outwards over the showgrounds I, along with many others, wipe away a tear or two and eagerly await the next instalment.
For our next rock n’ roll titillations there’s a change of tack up next with a most welcome stroll down memory lane in the post-sleaze company of Falling Red. The band, following three albums and an EP all widely well-received, were firmly on an upwards flightpath when we caught them in action, in 2018, at SOS and Rockwich festivals.
Then came the bombshell, the news no-one wanted to be true. The heart-breaking news, in January 2020, that bassist Mikey Lawless had tragically lost his nine-month battle with cancer. Most understandably Falling Red called it a day, just like that a bright light had been extinguished. Gigs since have been sporadic so the opportunity for our paths to collide here at COTW was one we weren’t going to pass up on.
It’s early evening as Rozey (vocals/guitar), Dave (drums), Matty (bass) and Marc (guitar) stride forth. The latter depping for Shane as we’re informed by Rozey that Shane is a twat who can’t operate a calendar. The banter is still strong as are the tunes. Opening with the punchy punked-up lip-curl of ‘Break Me’, winched in from 2014’s ‘Empire of the Damned’, Falling Red are right into action.
As the band slide into ‘We Escaped A Cult’ Rozey, on bended knee, takes a quick slug of beer. With a Black Spiders snarl it goes down a storm as Rozey declares “Your mind is never free!” Getting the attention of all in the arena, including the affable chap in the ice-cream van, a collective middle digit is raised and a raucous ‘Fuck cancer’ emanates respectfully from the arena at Rozey’s request.
The screaming banshee that is ‘Hell In My Eyes’ has me concluding it’s bloody fantastic to see Falling Red back where they belong. Rough and ready sleazy metaller ‘Come On Down’, which elicits thoughts of Cumbria’s answer to Mötley Crüe, is dedicated to the memory of Mikey and Ringo. Complete with Peter Hook approved low-slung bass ‘Shake The Faith’ rollickingly takes us back to 2010.
The Dogs D’Amour-infused anthem ‘My Town, My City’ is stirring stuff with which COTW sings along with fine gusto. Rozey spots half of Skarlett Riot, Chloe, and Danny, amongst the crowd giving them a shout-out before trucking into a surprise cover of Bryan Adams’ smash ‘Run to You’. It’s a good few decades since I last heard this singalong anthem live and Falling Red do it justice despatching it in their own indomitable style.
The nitrous fuelled ‘The Day I Lost My Soul’ precedes the set-closing ‘If You Ain’t Down With The Rock’, the only track that could possibly end this engaging set. With plenty of windmilling, à la Pete Townshend, from bassist Matty this Falling Red anthem is delivered with the ferocity of a starving T-Rex in full hunt mode. Rozey concludes “Thank you COTW! Thank you for putting up with us for so long!” Nothing else need be said.
Back over on the Kilmister Stage Swedish hard rockers Bonafide are tasked with laying the foundations for their fellow countrymen Royal Republic’s headline slot. Nowadays they’re relatively rare visitors to these shores; their last UK tour, prior to this slot and the trio of club gigs preceding it, was back in 2018. Other than that UK appearances since that tour have been limited to a pre-covid Bonfest and COTW’s near neighbours Stonedead last year.
With nothing in the way of fanfare the four components of Bonafide assemble quietly and efficiently before hustling straight into the Stateside themed ‘Are You Listening?’. Think of a mixture of AC/DC and Van Halen in a heady broth and you’re on to a winner with this the title and opening track of their most recent studio release. With a voice that cuts through the atmosphere like a circular saw through plate metal frontman Pontus Snibbs alongside his rock-steady colleagues immediately endear themselves to the largest gathering thus far today.
From the latest we head right back to near the beginning with the balls to the wall ‘Dirt Bound’ hauled in from 2009’s second album ‘Something’s Dripping’. Closing with the opening notes of The Beatles’ ‘Day Tripper’ Snibbs proceeds to raise a pint and offer their gratitude to the festival. The souped-up AC/DC lines of ‘Hero To Zero’ are highly infectious with the good time rock n’ roll proving hugely popular. A cannonading broadside is launched with the fantastic ‘No Doubt About It’, a delectable amalgam of Accept and a coarse daub of Foreigner for sure.
The foot-stomping boogie of ‘Suburb Baby Blues’ is a 12-bar head-nodding romp right out of the top drawer. Contemplate ZZ Top injecting a fringe of primetime Quo into their DNA and that’s precisely where we’re headed as meteorological spring edges ever closer to summer. ‘Smoke & Fire’ evokes the spirit of the 70s with a veritable stiff upper lip. COTW swaggers along in the evening sunshine.
‘Rumble’ gets its grubby paws upon a mean son-of-bitch growl and doesn’t let go. With smiles across the board there’s no doubting that these four Swedes are having a blast. A 100% kerosene head banger ‘Snacket’ sees bassist Martin Ekelund take a share of the lead vocals; the only track of the weekend we witnessed sung in Swedish.
With a twin Les Paul growling assault ‘Night Time’ appears to have inspired the likes of LA Maybe. Its bluesy intermission combined with a southern drawl is a winning combination as potent as the six numbers in tonight’s lottery draw. A freight-train trucking ‘Loud Band’ obeys the instructions upon the tin’s externals, a simple order of turning up to eleven and letting go. Bonafide certainly live up to the title’s expectations.
A pugilistic heavyweight rocker ‘Hard Livin’ Man’ gets heads banging aplenty. With beers raised aloft in all quarters of the stage Snibbs notes “As we say in ABBA-land skål!” continuing “This one was written for Sweden Rocks” as ‘Fill Your Head With Rock’ lights the afterburners to finish their set with an anthemic singalong. It’s what Bonafide does best after all!
Back across the to Southall / Lawless stage for one last time today and its headliners German punk-metal outfit Lucifer Star Machine have been a touch cruelly, in my humblest of opinions, dealt a blow before they even hit the stage. The powers that be have elected to slot in the ‘secret’ Trailblazer tent set, courtesy of Quireboys frontman Spike and his sidekick Willie Dowling, at a time coincident with LSM’s allotted stage times. It’s a challenging situation to schedule for this surprise set with no room in the main stages’ timetable and the majority of the day taken up on the third stage.
The decisions taken prove popular with a good percentage of the punters given the reports coming out of what transpires to be a packed Trailblazer tent but to their absolute credit the German quintet power through their highly energised set buzzsawing a quickfire onslaught afront an initially curious crowd that became more and more engaged as time progressed.
After entering to the majesty of Elvis’ ‘If I Can Dream’ LSM set about COTW. With a volume ramped up sufficiently loud enough to ensure rearrangement upon a molecular level we’re shaken and stirred from the off. Bassist Benny Zin drops a raised hand, and the cue is taken to unmuzzle opener ‘Satanic Age’, the cage-rattling title track from the band’s most recent studio release.
There’s more than a touch of Ricky Warwick in vocalist and sole remaining founding member Tor Abyss’s output. All hell and fury rains down with a hugely spirited ‘Dark Water’ as the band comes close to morphing into The Almighty. Hoisted from ‘The Devil’s Breath’ album ‘A Touch Of Death’ displays a leaning towards a coarse Ghoultown melded with a punked up mayhem.
Twixt tracks Abyss and Dutch guitarist Mighty Ramon, replete with a glorious fox’s tail, rile the COTW crowd into action. “Get outta your chairs it’s Saturday-fucking-night!” implores Ramon. He’s right, this despatch isn’t one to behold from a seated position; this is the moment for standing up, being counted and being swept along by the tornadic forces at work herein.
With the last three albums each given an airing within the opening three numbers the mould is set for the remainder of the set with the selected choices here on in striking a rudimentary balance from this triplet of long-players. The unrelenting steamrollering continues with the uplifting doom-laden spirit of ‘Psychic Vampires’ before the punk rage of ‘Cunt Of Destruction’ lays waste this normally serene corner of Lincolnshire. Slipping in a nod towards Volbeat in ‘I Wanted Everything’, a third consecutive inspection of ‘Satanic Age’, LSM’s heavily tattooed road warriors continue their charm offensive.
With the rapidly thrashing ‘The Void’ attention is commutated back to ‘The Devil’s Breath’ album and the direction is maintained with earthquaking ‘Baby, When You Cry’. With a slice of Motörhead, the hooky ‘Eat Dust’ rumbles with a mighty gut punch to complete another hat-trick from an album. There’s a subtle degree of order amongst the mayhem. The lightning strike of ‘Death or Jail’ sees a mini ‘moshing’ circle break out responding to the genial onstage humour.
‘Censorshipped’ takes the energy of the Sex Pistols and transplants into the 21st century ahead of the rabble rousing of ‘Dwell In Misery’ gets COTW moving, the gathering which is increasing in size with every track is now firmly onside. A self-proclaimed “kick in the bollocks” ‘Black Axe’ clouts COTW squarely between the optical organs whilst, simultaneously, applying a lower limb strike to the sphericals where applicable.
It’s wonderfully batshit crazy and the levels rise unabated with the crypt dwelling monster of ‘Hold Me Down’ breathing fire. The sunset is a fiery one too and the latter rays of Saturday’s sunshine provide a backdrop to the ‘unexpected’ encore from LSM. ‘Hammer Me Dead’, the first of the ‘post-set’ brace receives a cracking reception leading into a blustering reverent rockabilly fringed punk finale of the Misfits’ ‘Last Caress’. Looking about we’re not alone in being most happy in eschewing the attractions elsewhere to enjoy something ‘out of our norm’.
Following a wide variance of supporting dishes on offer throughout the course of a hugely entertaining day we reach the moment virtually everyone who has trekked to COTW has awaited expectantly. It’s most apt that the choice of today’s top-billing is one that is a 110% embodiment of serving up a wholesomely wide-ranging abundance of dishes themselves.
Let’s not beat about the bush here as what the Upstaged promotions has pulled off with the booking of today’s headliners is nothing short of a major coup. They’re festival veterans across the width of Europe – with appearances at Rock am Park, Rock im Ring, Download, Bloodstock amongst countless others – with prestigious slots next on the calendar at Sweden Rock and Hellfest.
A waxing crescent hangs high behind the COTW twin stages as the remaining vestiges of the day’s light scuttling out to the west Handel’s grandiose ‘Music for the Royal Fireworks’ acts as the Pied Piper once did in Hamelin. The largest crowd of the entire festival’s three days fill up the available space afront the Kilmister Stage in readiness for the Swedish pandemonium otherwise known as Royal Republic.
This is the quartet’s congregation, and they precisely know the rock n’ roll sermon that is desired. Like Kiss before them they completely understand one fundamental about rock and roll that many within the industry completely miss; that is, it’s supposed to be fun. Not a complicated concept but one that does get overlooked.
A multi-hued thunderbolt ‘My House’ sets the tone with a phenomenally potent fusion of Euro disco and blistering hard rock. The bouncing basslines rival the best that New Order could ever offer. Frontman Adam Grahn, ever the jovial character, goes the extra mile in the extremely contagious ‘Love Cop’ using an illuminated Flying V six-string for extra effect. This is music to do the household chores to, it’s going to bring a smile to your face when putting out the bins for sure with its blend of Electric Six and The Darkness.
Razor-sharp ‘Getting Along’ ensures structural integrity is assessed well beyond normal levels, levels of addiction continue to rise it’s surely only moments away from the walls coming down. Ending with a snippet of Metallica – ‘And Justice For All’ if I’m not mistaken – the glorious chaos segues seamlessly into the ZZ Top inspired ‘Baby’; insanity levels have now broken all scales of measurement as Royal Republic don’t shy away from employing their big guns early doors.
The ear-worm groove of ‘Boots’ is one that ensures there isn’t any footwear not moving throughout the packed arena. Bringing the indie vibes of Franz Ferdinand and the unlikely Europop vibes of S Club into an already extremely volatile mixture is an incredibly bold manoeuvre but one that reaps huge dividends in the brash ‘Stop Movin’’. There’s a keytar, illuminated drums and elevated levels of lighting to add to an already electric atmosphere.
With tongues firmly inserted in cheeks the disco-rock crossover of ‘Anna-Leigh’ ensures the heat is firmly on with some polished AOR segments latterly beloved of The Night Flight Orchestra. The mood switches as the stuttering opening riffs of Slayer’s ‘Raining Blood’ are chiselled into the segue across to ‘Back From The Dead’. Adam mockingly apologises “Sorry gotta have some fun at work too!”
COTW pulsates vibrantly as the years are rolled back with the timeless stomping maraud of ‘Full Steam Spacemachine’; glowsticks of a myriad of colours wave throughout the crowd. With invite Franz Ferdinand return to the fray. Tensions ebb and flow as Royal Republic have COTW eating from their palms; want an explanation of how to ‘control’ a crowd look no further than this.
The stage darkens and the band re-appear as an entirety at stage front a surreal acoustic reimaging of ‘Boomerang’ with the quadrumvirate going full-on barbershop; one thing’s for sure their strategy is faultless, and the ‘gambit’ works a treat. The funky ‘Fireman & Dancer’ re-elevates the mood with a soothing inoculation reminiscent of ‘Hot Space’-era Queen.
Fan favourite ‘Tommy-Gun’, a belting assimilation of Franz Ferdinand and Electric 6, keeps normally sleepy Lincolnshire wide awake. Did you know that Celine Dion minus all the consonants is ee-i-ee-i-oo? Well, if you witnessed Royal Republic in action tonight you do now thanks to Adam’s playful between song patter. The glossy 80s drenched AOR of ‘Lazerlove’ could so easily have made the soundtrack of ‘Top Gun’.
The Lincolnshire Showgrounds literally erupt as Metallica’s ‘Battery’ is despatched with a serious amount of pyro and a great deal of “Hell yes!” before the roof, if there was one, is brought down by the behemothic groove of the show-stopping ‘RATA-TATA’. “Your beat is all I got, so drop it likes it’s hot” insists the pre-chorus whilst melting all within a ten-mile radius. COTW has well and truly delivered once more as a field full of people disperse with heads full of music.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
