Louder Than Words Fest 2025

Although I didn't attend Louder Than Words fest last year, I did miss it, and as such I was looking forward to seeing what was going to be on the bill this year. 

Possibly because we are coming up to punks 50 year anniversary next year, there seemed to be a lot of punk and post punk stuff on the bill this time around and I would expect that to be the case next year too.

I skipped Friday because of work and travel logistics so I didn't get to use my weekend pass until Saturday lunchtime when I travelled into Stockport on a pretty empty 383 and continued onto Manchester on a fairly empty but noisy 192.

Debsey Wykes was on the bill on Saturday lunchtime talking about her book Teenage Daydream. Both she and the guy interviewing her were funny and self depreciating, and I particularly enjoyed the description of Dolly Mixture's appearance on Tiswas as being"Three hours of utter hell". Someone asked her at the end why she thought it was that Dolly Mixture got so much flack from female journalists and she gave a thoughtful response to this which included the observation that many of the female journalists in question had their own tough times and battles to fight on the papers they were writing for. She also talked a lot about the bands collaborations with Captain Sensible and how John Peel had given them a break early on. It was a very entertaining and engaging conversation, which has really encouraged me to read her book.

I missed Clare Grogan because I was in the restaurant downstairs getting food and talking to Helen McCookerybook, Russ Bestley and Mike Dines ahead of their appearance on the punk panel later. 

After that I tried to get upstairs to find the loos and to watch Helen's set ahead of Justin Currie in conversation, only they weren't letting people upstairs yet. I ended up going up in the lift with some people going up to the third floor, getting off at the first floor, using the loos and then narrowly avoiding being flattened in the corridor by a stampede of Depeche Mode fans, who had just been let upstairs. This is not the first time I've been standing out on the corridor at the wrong time at LTW... only this time Jill spotted me and forewarned me that I was about to be flattened. 

I stood at the back for Helen's set as the room was filling up fast and I wanted to be able to get back out again before the talk started. Helen played a series of 15 minute mini sets ahead of various talks over the weekend, and tailored her songs according to the talk in question. Before Justin Currie she played songs from her new album (which I reviewed earlier this year), specifically 'Three Cheers For Toytown', 'The Ginger Line' and 'Reaching For Hope'. Which all seemed to go down well with those paying attention.

Afterwards she introduced me to a US academic, Shelina Brown, who has recently done work on Lene Lovich and we all went to Dave Barbarossa's talk, where he talked about his musical past in Adam & The Ants and Bow Wow Wow as well as reading an extract from his novel, Mute, which was intriguing. 

At 6:15pm I attended the punk panel with Shelina, only we arrived separately and ended up sat several rows apart. I could have moved but, in the end, it's probably best I didn't as I was at the back of the room and this came in useful later when my phone started ringing and I had to flee the room to answer it, nearly flattening some poor woman on the back wall in the process (I did try and find her afterwards to apologise but she left before I got the chance). The punk panel itself was lively and often inspiring, but it was a mass of contradictions, which is what I had expected really. Carol, who performs with Steve Ignorant, and Helen probably interested me the most.

I went home after as I was tired and the buses get increasingly sparse as the evening wears on. The walk from Whitworth Street to Piccadilly was uneventful, save for some very loud drunk students towards the end of the route, but the 192 was marred by the antics of a family of Tik Tok aficionados and their video playlists and loud conversations, leading me to reflect that I actually preferred the late night top deck bhangra and happy hardcore sessions we used to get on the 192 in the noughties. Anything is better than listening to someone playing a video of someone saying "shit" five different ways over and over again. 

The 383 arrived on time and zipped along nicely so I was home for about 9:30m in the end. 

On Sunday I had the previously unknown pleasure of catching the 385 to Stockport. Obviously (as readers of The Bus Chronicles will be well aware) I catch it most days (when it turns up...) but this was the first time I'd caught it on a Sunday. There was no one on it when I got on at 10am, and I did wonder for a bit if it was going to be like that time during the 192 Bus Wars in 2006 when I'd been out after work on a Thursday night and caught a UK North 192 from Piccadilly to Hazel Grove at 2am... and no one else got on it At All. But people started getting on further down the road and it began to feel a bit more normal/less weird then.

I did stay on until Stockport Interchange because I wanted to see the bottle top mural that's just been installed, only I think it must be down the other end to where the 385 stops as I didn't see it. Stockport town centre still seemed very much asleep when I walked out of the Interchange but there was an overturned shopping trolley on the front of Merseyway next to an ambulance, suggesting a poignant aftermath to... well, something anyway. 

It was only 11:10am when I got to Jack Rosenthal Street so I headed for HOME and got a coffee, reflecting as I did so that a latte on top of two bowls of what is essentially vegan sugar puffs for breakfast perhaps wasn't the best start to the day, food wise. A full veggie/vegan breakfast would have been much, much better, or else porridge but I was too busy this morning with clothes washing, cats, writing and organising things. I perused the menu at HOME and vowed to return for dinner later.

On my way to Innhouse I realised that I'd just passed a decommissioned statue of Friedrich Engels, which had originally been installed in Ukraine. From what I read on the explanatory plaque, the statue was removed and re-homed after the annexation of Crimea but pre the all out invasion of Ukraine. Given the statue now lives on Jack Rosenthal Street, I found myself pondering as to whether Jack would have approved of Fred returning to Manchester, albeit symbolically. I suspect he would have done.

The first talk of the day was Russ Bestley talking about punk graphic design, which was both intricate and interesting from a technical and technological point of view as well as from a socio political view. I had a long chat with Helen and Shelina afterwards, which we decided to continue over dinner at HOME. It turned out to be a day for noticing things as I later spotted that the old site of the Hacienda is immediately opposite the entrance to Innhouse, which I'd never clocked before.

Around 4pm ish I found myself wandering into John Harris' room ahead of his talk, under the mistaken impression that people were being let in. It came as a surprise then when the doors were closed, leaving me alone in the audience with John. I was going to leave but he said I could stay and we passed the time before the audience was let in properly by chatting about punk compilations purchased at service stations, why I stopped reading the NME (because in late 1994 they had switched to full on Britpop coverage so weren't writing about bands I liked anymore), and other things. I had picked this talk not really knowing what to expect but, in the end, I actually feel as though it was the most interesting talk of the weekend for me. It might have been that I needed a break from punk by then, but also the concept behind his latest book, Maybe I'm Amazed, is such an unusual one. It revolves around the ten songs his son, who has autism, has been obsessed with during his young life so far and it appears to tell the story of the families journey raising an autistic child while also telling the story of his son through his love of music, a love that appears to have begun when the 18 month old child found and managed to operate one of Harris' old iPods. I talked to him a bit about my day job afterwards and promised that I would read the book. If I'd have remembered, I would have referred him to the interview I did with Ashley Stein and Gillian Morrison in 2023 which, while largely concerned with women and music, did also touch on the issue of gender and neurodivergence in the music industry. But I only remembered this once I'd got home. 

The final talk of the day (for me at least) was Budgie, who is on a book tour promoting his memoir The Absence. He was charmingly meandering and frequently very funny and he gave vivid and positive accounts of each of his bands, but especially of Big In Japan and The Slits. His account of the internal dynamics of the Slits, and Ari's creative process, was particularly interesting to me. 

Helen had already gone so I said goodbye to Shelina after Budgie's talk and left to catch the bus. The 192 was uneventful on the way home, save for the man next to me almost falling asleep on my shoulder. The 358 was late, which was a worry as there are far less buses on a Sunday, but I am very thankful that TfGM have arranged it that even though the 383 and 358 are only once a hour after about 7pm, they've arranged the timetables in such a way as to ensure that there's a bus every 30 minutes. When they turn up on time that is. 

All in all, a very satisfying and stimulating, albeit exhausting, weekend. 

The Bus Chronicles get their own blog

As of today, I am moving my Bus Chronicles series of posts to its own blog.

It has long been an ambition of mine to start my own bus blog in which I chronicle the frustrations and joys of travelling around Greater Manchester by bus, not to mention the surreal incidents I encounter along the way. 

I always thought that I'd missed the boat on this. Surely the best time to have started one was back in the mid 2000's when I was navigating the 192 bus wars (again...) and commuting to all sorts of different bits of Stockport as a library temp. There was plenty of material then: The bus wars themselves, singing glue sniffers on the 11, karaoke on a Saturday morning on the 375, the short lived surreal joy of the 62A bus... I really thought I'd missed my moment. 

Then the Bee Network happened and I realised that this was the perfect opportunity to start one.

I'm not removing all of my bus related content from this blog: Writing about buses in a journalistic capacity is something I hope to return to at some point. But it is right that the Bus Chronicles have their own blog now because what began as an amusing side project earlier this year is taking over this blog and has, at times, taken over my life a bit as well.

I will be posting non-bus stuff on this blog again as well, and I'm hoping to have some good news about the punk women book at some point (we will see...) so do watch this space.

If you want to read more bus blogging stuff and find out the latest about the 385, you can do so here. 

Album review: Helen McCookerybook's Showtunes from the Shadows

Showtunes from the Shadows shows the extent to which Helen McCookerybook continues to develop as a songwriter with each album she creates. This is perhaps best demonstrated by songs such as the optimistic 'Reaching For Hope', devastating 'Spy' and 'Puppet', gleefully satirical 'Three Cheers For Toytown' and whimsically cheerful 'The Ginger Line'. Her observation skills are as sharp as ever, but this is not an overly dark album: There is hope here, as revealed by 'Almost There', 'Reaching For Hope' and 'Send in the Detectives'. Humour is being tempered with darkness, meaning that the album never dips into despair, even in its darkest moments. 

As is fitting for our times, there are a number of explicitly political songs on here, ranging from the sly character study of 'Sixties Guy' through to the full on satire of 'Three Cheers For Toytown' via the more unsettling 'Puppet,' whose pretty tune belies a much darker subject matter. Who is really calling the shots in the music industry? McCookerybook seems to be asking. Who is really the voice of the puppets song? Who has stolen her original voice and condemned her to a professional life trapped like a fly in a spiders web? It's a sometimes uncomfortable, and sad, listen and The 'Margaux Interlude' that follows provides space to think about the questions the song has asked, and answered. Regular readers of McCookerybook's blog will also know that Margaux is the name of one of the puppets featured on the album sleeve. 

There are songs about relationships here, both good and bad, including the irresistible and subtly clever take on gaslighting that is 'It Wasn't Me'. The soaring backing vocals assist the slow build of a song whose hypnotic rhythms match the liars persuasive claims that the narrator must be mistaken and the result is a powerful indictment of the characters crimes and one of the finest songs on what is a strong album. The subversive 'Metaforte' meanwhile takes on a lying lover and delivers its devastating takedown over gently pared down chords that make it feel like a lullaby, albeit one with distinctly un-lullaby esque lyrics. 

The long take on friendship that is 'Reaching For Hope' has a 1950s, almost Doris Day feel to it and it's gentle optimism revolves around seeking refuge in friends and friendship while also acknowledging how the changing times can also change a friendship and yet the friendship will endure. It's a thoughtful piece that reflects a maturity of songwriting that is both powerful and subtle, ending as it does with the line "As I reach for the phone to make that call, I'm reaching for hope as the numbers dial."

Both 'Spy' and 'The Porter Rose At Dawn' feel more like intricately crafted short stories than songs. You feel as though whole worlds are being created, fully stocked with characters and settings and atmospheres. In the case of 'The Porter Rose At Dawn' this might have something to do with the song being part of Gina Arnold's* Raymond Chandler project. It is certainly a sublimely complex and well crafted piece, one that sits somewhere between folk and country musically speaking, with its steel guitar and old time glamour. That glamour has curdled somewhat by the end though, reflecting the Chandler connection. 'Spy' meanwhile, as well as being perhaps the finest song on the album, is a well observed tale of an inexperienced female spy at the airport. Tension is built from the opening scene through to the shift in point of view through to the poignant denouement. It is packed with more action than the average thriller, and is a more thoughtful take on the world of spies than you would expect to find in such books. It is a finely judged song that haunts.

There is gentle introspection on the joyfully quirky people watching song that is 'The Ginger Line', another personal favourite of mine, and a similar travelling theme pervades 'Almost There', a wistful song that is also an album highlight. McCookerybook's voice is particularly good on album closer 'Send in the Detectives', a song with slightly angular chords and an irreverent but strong chorus. It provides an uplifting finish in a confusing world. 

Showtunes from the Shadows provides a mixture of thoughtful whimsy, observational satire, character studies, and poignancy. It marries drama with comedy, vaudeville with modern. And it never fails to surprise and delight. 

* I previously wrote that it was Gina Birch's Raymond Chandler project, but it's not: It is Gina Arnold's!

Songs of the year, number 1: Billie Eilish - LUNCH (Official Music Video)

Billie Eilish's 'LUNCH' is taken from her third studio album, the critically acclaimed Hit Me Hard And Soft. Like much of the album, it's an initially unassuming piece that sees the previously electronica focused Eilish swap samplers and machines for guitars. I wasn't sure about this at first because it felt, on first listen, as though Eilish was being perhaps steered towards a kind of universal pop direction that ironed out her previously displayed (and very endearing) idiosyncrasies. I'm still not sure to what extent that's the case, or if it's simply that she was very young when she started out and that this is all part of the growing process, but I was slightly discombobulated on the first listen.

'LUNCH's strength as a single is that it is an insidious ear worm that lodges itself gradually over time, which then prompts you to return to the song again and again. And it's when you return to it that you begin to realise what a subversive slice of pop it is. At once funny and self depreciating, there's a sweetness at the heart of this girl crush anthem that makes it as irresistible as its melodies and hooks. It will be interesting to see what she does next. 

Songs of the year, number 2: Allie X - Galina [ft. Empress Of] (Official Video)

While I was personally disappointed by Allie X's 2024 album, Girl With No Face, it would be fair to say that it was a mood thing rather than a musical thing: Allie X has, this year, homed in on a kind of early 80s dark synth sound that just wasn't chiming with me, but which was perfectly serviceable from a musical perspective. It is, to be fair, very hard to dislike an artist who pens a mentalist slice of 80s industrial called 'Off With Her Tits'. 

The crystalline pop of 'Galina' also has its origins in 80s synth pop but it shimmers and shines in a way that sees it transcend its origins and become a dark pop anthem in its own right. The addition of Empress Of on the single version adds texture and additional layers to what was already a darkly complex piece. As is always the case with Allie X, the result is complex, sophisticated synth pop with a beating heart. Tremendous. 

Songs of the year, number 3: Charly Bliss - Nineteen

While Taylor Swift, for a number of good and bad reasons, dominated the news in 2024, her latest album, The Tortured Poets Department, seems to have divided opinion with some perhaps seeking a more obviously pop sound than what Swift chose to provide them with. 

As such, it was an odd moment when, later in the year, US band Charly Bliss released their album Forever, because it really does sound like the Taylor Swift album that never was. Or the lovechild of everything that was good about John Hughes movies and mid 1980s pop. 

In recent years Charly Bliss have moved increasingly away from the bouncy 'bubblegrunge' sound of their earlier releases and, by last year, were hurtling full speed towards planet pop. It's fair to say that Forever and, especially, 'Nineteen' bear the hallmarks of that collision.

An unashamedly romantic, full on pop ballad, 'Nineteen' isn't ashamed to be what it is: A sentimental pop song with a big heart. It was born to be the final slow song at teenage dances, the one you weep to when you break up with your first big love, the one you sing blind drunk on New Years Eve. In short, it was built to soak up your emotions like a sponge and throw them right back at you with stardust and glitter. 

Songs of the year, number 4: Wasia Project - Is This What Love Is? (Visualiser)

Young brother/sister duo Wasia Project are comprised of William Gao and Olivia Hardy. The swooping, soaring, dreamy indie anthem that is 'Is This What Love Is?' was released as part of the duo's 2nd EP Isotope earlier this year and instantly proved itself to be an atmospheric classic. While much is expected of the band they are, wisely, taking it slowly and building their sound at their own pace. It is fair to say that their debut album, when it comes, will have been worth waiting for.