Review & Photography by Phil Rozier for MPM
Margate Dreamland. An odd, yet strangely cool little corner of our green earth. And right now, it’s having a proper resurgence.
This year alone it’s hosting everyone from Paul Weller and Fatboy Slim to Black Stone Cherry, The Streets and, tonight, Massive Wagons. It’s an eclectic run of shows perched on the edge of a sandy beach, a growing foodie scene, and a Wetherspoons. Saying the area has “something for everyone” is an understatement.
Tonight, I’ve got the emotional excitement of once again reviewing the awesome force that is Massive Wagons. Baz and the boys have stretched their tour to the far east of the UK, and I’m lucky enough to squeeze into the pit to grab some shots and soak up some rock ’n’ roll.
Unlike my usual solo missions, tour management have been generous enough to grant me a “plus one.” So my Viking Queen is in attendance. Being a Wagons Virgin, I’ll be sure to extract her verdict before the night is over.
To treat ourselves, we opted for a pint somewhere with the same sea view as the Wetherspoons, but with a slightly lower chance of incident. I’m a professional. I can’t have poor decisions affecting my ability to do my job.
Fast forward a few tens of minutes and we’re inside the venue. The Dreamland Ballroom. And yes, it genuinely could be a ballroom. Polished wooden floor, a stage barely two feet high, and a velvet red curtain backdrop that screams “vintage theatre” more than “rock ’n’ roll riot.” Daylight is still pouring through the art deco glass blocks, but let’s not let the surroundings distract us.
In typical rock crowd fashion, the masses remain scattered until about two minutes before the Wagons hit the stage. Support from Scarlet Rebels does exactly what it needs to. Wayne Doyle’s “whoah whoah whoahs” warm up the crowd nicely.
Then, bang on 9:15, the familiar three torch flashes from the roadie, the house lights drop, and the red glow of the curtain fills the room. ‘Everywhere We Go’ kicks things off, and instantly you know the night’s going to be special.
Baz is on absolute fire. With the tour nearing its final UK dates, he’s fully warmed up, wild eyed, and playing to the cameras. He’s quickly becoming one of the most high energy frontmen on the circuit. Stevie Holl “the baby” of the band, is wielding his SG (does his mum know he’s out this late?), Adam is rocking the white Les Paul I’m definitely jealous of, ‘the Beast Of Bench Press’ Adam Bouskill is thundering through the low end, and Alex is perched above the stage on drums like a general surveying the battlefield. This is a band that means business, and after years of relentless touring, they’re now as tight as they are entertaining.
I’d better pay attention, we’re already into song two. ‘Fun Whilst It Lasted’ slices through the fading daylight. Legs flying, angry stares from the Bassman, steady drums, and pure joy radiating from both stage and crowd. I’m practically falling into the barrier trying to capture that “part of the band” shot, and Baz kindly flicks me the V’s. All in good humour… I hope. He may just be mocking me for nearly face planting in front of hundreds of fans.
‘Please Stay Calm’ ironically is one of the least calm moments of the night. I’m on my final track before being ushered out of the pit, and Bouskill throws me another set of V’s. At this point it feels like I’m getting a personalised photo shoot.
The band barely pause between tracks. ‘Missing on TV’ gets a quick intro before the equally punchy ‘Fuck the Haters’. The band are sharp, present, and performing with total confidence. They look more comfortable than ever. Relaxed in who they are and what they do. And what they do is deliver crowd pleasing, sing along punk pop rock anthems. On first listen, they might sound parent friendly… until you catch lyrics like:
“bang my dick in broken glass, I’d staple my eyes, before I give you my time. Set my head on fire, pull it out with barbed wire, spray bleach in my eyes, before I give you my time…’ Not exactly bubblegum pop.
‘Hero’, ‘Germ’, ‘Glorious’, ‘Night Skies’, they fly by with the same energy. Massive Wagons may be all about entertainment and crowd involvement, but there’s a darker emotional undercurrent to their lyrics. As emotionally scarred as Slipknot but with the joy of Status Quo, they’ve carved out a niche within a niche. And it works.
We’re deep into the set now, and ‘House of Noise’ refocuses the crowd on what’s already become classic Wagons. The centre of the room is a nonstop swirl of movement, singing every word back at Baz. He controls the crowd effortlessly, often stepping into the front row mid song for selfies or greetings. They’re a people’s band, the kind you see for fun, for release, for a proper night out. The set never dips, never softens, and the energy stays sky high through all sixteen tracks.
After a brief pause, the band huddle behind the smallest backstage curtain known to man. Pure Spinal Tap. They blast through ‘Back to the Stack’, where everyone does raises a glass for Ric, and finally ‘We’re In It Together’ seals the night, pulling the band back into the crowd once more.
The venue may have felt more “school hall” than “punk rock academy,” but that didn’t stop the band giving 100% from start to finish. Jumping, spinning, kicking, head banging, hair swirling, joy fuelled rock ’n’ roll.
But don’t just take my word for it. Let’s hear from my gorgeous plus one, a true Virgin Wagoner.
Her verdict? “That was fucking awesome.”
