Artists: Various
Venue: Wales, Ebbw Vale
Date: 26 -28th July 2024
'Overall it’s been a successful and friendly festival. Newcomers to Steelhouse are always amazed at how nice it is compared to some of the bigger ones, and as usual the staff and locals were absolutely beautiful people through and through. Never been? You should.'
It’s a long way to the top, or so I’m told, and this is doubly so if your suspension isn’t up to scratch as the winding road up to the top of Steelhouse Mountain has more holes than a Donald Trump speech. I’ve been a few times now and every time you get a different experience. From the look of things the different experience this year will be the sun visible in the sky, so with my pasty white skin totally exposed to the elements I settle in for a feast of festival fireworks.
Friday starts at 4pm, rather than midday of the next two days, and I’m delighted to see Trucker Diablo kicking everything off. They’re a great choice, as their head down, don’t take yourself too seriously Hard Rock makes sure everyone pays attention. Any band with a song called ‘Drink Beer Destroy’ can’t be all bad, and they don’t disappoint in any way, even throwing in a great new track called ‘Dig’. Oh yeah... we’ve really started now.
We then learn that Elles Bailey has had to pull out, and Dan Byrne (here for the weekend) comes out and gives us what is a very nice acoustic set. He has a good chat, plays some good songs (that I don’t know) and everyone has a good time. Much appreciated, Dan, you’re a star.
The interestingly named Oli Brown & The Dead Collective come next, and are a band that have decided bassists are superfluous (we all know it, eh) and two guitars with drums does the job just fine. Totally new on me, they really impress with a set that has a core of hard Blues Rock with plenty of melody. Oli himself has clear, powerful vocals and can play a mean guitar which isn’t allowed to overshadow the music, always a good thing. Weird name, very promising band.
Unannounced, we get another acoustic set next, as Toby Jepson comes out to great applause. I love Toby, he always seems so down to earth, and he makes the sensible decision to just play Little Angels songs, including ‘Don’t Prey For Me’, ‘Kicking Up Dust’ and ‘Too Much Too Young’. He sounds great and the crowd get right into it, and I just know this will be one of my favourite sets from the weekend. The original wayward son is back.
Now, I have a confession to make (sit down, Dave Grohl). It’s pretty shameful, really, that I am not a fan of King King because I haven’t heard them. I know, I know... “call yerself a Rock music journalist” and all that, but they’ve just sort of passed me by until now. Come on, I’m only five albums and fifteen years or so behind! Vocalist and Guitarist Alan Nimmo is welcomed on stage as “A big man in a small skirt”, and yes, he has a lovely kilt on. It won’t come as a surprise to learn that I bloody love ‘em straight from the start. It’s all top class Rock music, a great sound with good use of keyboards, bluesy but melodic, a little like a mix of Thunder and FM, which is an awesome thing. Alan has a good voice but really impresses on guitar, with some songs (‘I Will Not Fall’ for example) going on for ages as they appear to turn into extended jam sessions. ‘king brilliant.
Okay, time for the main event, which is ‘Berniefest’, a tribute to Bernie Marsden. Marsden was a well loved guitarist best known for his work with Whitesnake, but with a huge depth of other stuff, too, including his tribute to this very festival ‘Steelhouse Mountain’. What we get is an understandably Whitesnake heavy set featuring, for the most part, Hand Of Dimes with the legendary Neil Murray on bass and the not-yet-legendary-but-getting-there Jim Kirkpatrick on guitar, not just the guitarist in FM but also in Bernie’s own Blues band. This is as fitting a tribute as you’re likely to get, with Nev MacDonald singing better that Coverdale has for a decade (at least), the perfect man for the job in every way. Dan Byrne, Toby Jepson, Alan Nimmo and Luke Morley (Thunder) all come on for a couple of songs, and it may be a cliché but there is definitely a lot of love in the field. From opener ‘Come On’ to closer ‘We Wish You Well’ (natch) it’s a pure delight, an honest tribute to one of the nicest men in Rock at a festival he had a lot of feeling for. Jim Kirkpatrick sang on one of his songs written with Bernie, ‘Dead Man Walking’, and it’s really nice to hear it in such a setting. Naturally, the crowd are encouraged to join in several times, and it’s a wonderful thing to be part of. Bernie Marsden, we salute you, a true original.
Saturday
After a surprisingly freezing night in a tent I’m absolutely knackered, but at least I can chill until midday, and when Zac & The New Men (band names are definitely getting worse) come out I’m ready for some hard rockin’ and fast talkin’. What I get, though, is a different kind of beast from yesterday’s openers, as this lot play what I like to call Power Blues, with big riffs and pounding drums (a lot of hangovers not being helped by this). In honesty, I’ve heard this stuff a million times and it doesn’t stand out in any way, not helped by Zac’s vocals which come over as a little whiny, not matching the power around him. They do what they do pretty well, but ultimately I’m bored of this stuff. Wake me up when it’s over.
The day is livened up considerably by Creeping Jean, who come on with a sound that feels retro and modern at the same time. There’s something of the Doors of them, mixed with the Black Crowes at their most energetic. There’s a bloke on stage playing a tambourine for no apparent reason, and I love it when he comes out on the stage extension for a quick rattle of an instrument no one can actually hear. I know they normally have keyboards so maybe he’s the keyboard player and he wanted to join in. Either way, Creeping Jean are a lot of fun, sticking to uplifting songs with a good beat that makes normal people want to dance. I am not normal, but I definitely tap my feet. Creeping towards greatness.
As the change over happens (thirty minutes every time, very well managed) it occurs to me that the most popular band here seems to be Those Damn Crows, who aren’t even playing. LOTS of shirts, and at least it’s a great Welsh band so it’s nice to see.
James & The Cold Gun are apparently named after a Kate Bush track, but it doesn’t make me like the name. My grumpiness, however, is mitigated by the fact that they play some pretty cool music. It’s pretty straightforward Rock music, really, and the only problem is, like Zac & The New Men, the vocals just can’t compete with the backing. This may be the fault of the mix, and it’s a shame because the music kicks ass, sort of like ‘Space Station No.5’ at times, pace-wise with the now expected Bluesy additions. Even so, without the vocals being where they should be it all sort of wilts in the sun, with an audience reaction that wilts along with it. Cold comfort.
All it takes to liven up the day is a little Satanism, so thank Beelzebub for South Of Salem. Although going on at four o’clock in the afternoon they basically come out as headliners, and bugger what anyone thinks. They have a cool backdrop, Metal cheerleaders (groovy) and flamethrowers that singe the eyebrows of brave or foolish photographers. It’s all jolly good fun, and the Bournemouth five-piece just OWN the stage, particularly frontman Joey Draper, stalking left and right like a goth tiger. The music is surprisingly melodic, very palatable and easy to enjoy, like ‘Made To be Mine’, a track that is closer to Melodic Rock than Heavy Metal. They give a very good impression of a band who are used to playing stadiums, but in reality they do no such thing. Based on this performance, though, they very well might, and good luck to ‘em. Gauntlet thrown, motherfuckers.
Well, that gauntlet is caught with a grin by Mexican three piece The Warning, who are definitely not what I expected. Three young sisters, they’ve been doing this for quite some time now (eleven years!), gaining an excellent reputation as they go. They’ve released four albums now, and considering the oldest is just twenty-two that’s pretty damned impressive. Musically they’re a very powerful three piece, no time for showing off, just industrial sized riffs and some catchy hooks. It’s all helped by Dany, who plays guitar and provides nice, powerful vocals that list the songs very well. Bassist Ale does her own thing, throwing lots of cool shapes and posing in just the right way for the snappers in the audience. They don’t play on their sexuality, it’s just there for you to appreciate or ignore as the music does the talking. South Of Salem had the superior stage presence, but The Warning really impress with their aggression, passion and talent, definitely the surprise of the day. The Warning go down a storm.
Today’s first “Big” name belongs to ex-Motörhead man Phil Campbell, joined by his Bastard Sons (three of which are his actual sons). A wall of sound follows him, and as they rip through the likes of ‘We’re The Bastards’ and ‘Freak Show’ it’s pretty clear that he hasn’t ditched his musical roots and still delivers Metal for the masses. Part of the attraction is the fact that they also sing a few Motörhead songs, and it’s great to hear ‘Going To Brazil’, ‘Ace Of Spades’ and set closer ‘Killed By Death’. Frontman Joel Peters does a fine job throughout, bellowing into an old style radio microphone, which is a bit different. Local lad Campbell (there’s plenty of Welsh connections at Steelhouse) looks happy as he ever does with a big old golden Flying V strapped to his chest, and a good time is definitely had by all. His name may be on the banner, but he doesn’t like too much fuss. At one point we’re all encouraged to raise our middle fingers and shout “Fuck you Tyla Campbell” (bassist). I have no idea why, but do it anyway as I’m a conformist. Utter, utter bastards, loved it.
Now we’re down to two, and boy are they both big names. I first saw Accept back in 1986 on their ‘Russian Roulette’ tour, and have always had a soft spot for their heads down, no nonsense Heavy Metal. Over the half hour change over it becomes clear that Accept will be the first band to have an actual stage set, based around artwork for their current ‘Humanoid’ album. It’s a nice touch from just a backdrop and sets the scene well. From the off it’s clear they mean business, as the set contains material from all over their career, including the new album’s title track and ‘Straight Up Jack’, both of which hint at something worth checking out. Vocalist Mark Tornilo handles his own tunes and those originally sung by Udo Dirkschneider equally well and looks like he’s having a ball, as do guitarists Wolf Hoffman and Joel Hoekstra, wielding their flying Vs like the pros they are. Newcomers may feel they are similar to AC/DC, but that’s just the vocals. Musically, Accept are pure Metal, though their Speed Metal roots gave way to a more traditional sound. It’s great to hear the classics ‘Fast As A Shark’, ‘London Leather Boys’ and set closer ‘Balls To The Wall’, and though 2010 track ‘Pandemic’ goes on for ages it’s in a good way as the guitarists bang out power widdles for shits and giggles. Wild but not at all restless.
Currently riding on the wave of being a twenty-year overnight success, Skindred are a band I am curious about, as everyone says they’re brilliant live. I like a bit of Reggae, and I like a bit of Rock, so they should be up my street, I suppose. I’m surprised to see a few people leaving, mind. After an intro song they come on with a passion and the song ‘Set Fazers’, a cracking, heavy opener if ever there was one. The secret weapon in the band is frontman Benji Webbe, who lives twenty minutes away. On one hand, he’s a great singer when he uses his natural voice rather than his Reggae voice, and on the other he’s a natural storyteller, and I never thought I’d laugh when hearing about someone’s dead parents (you had to be there). They use lots of samples, break off into other songs (like Queen) in the middle of one of theirs, and sometimes just play bits of music, like Vam Halen’s ‘Jump’ followed by the Kriss Kross song of the same name. Why? Fucked if I know, but somehow it all comes together to form a ridiculously entertaining show. Sometimes the Rock takes a back seat, like on the lovely track ‘L.O.V.E (Smile Please)’, but it’s followed by the Industrial Metal beats of ‘If I Could’, a right banger of a track. Clearly this gig is a big deal for the local man, and he gives it his all, including a few clothing changes. An absolutely amazing set that has switched me right onto the band. Smile Please? Didn’t stop for an hour and a half.
Sunday
It seems I just can’t do a Steelhouse weekend without some sort of drama, and this year is no different. Sunday greets me with a kick in the balls that is simple me feeling absolutely awful. I have no idea why, as I don’t tend to do the getting hammered thing. Because I’m a trooper I drag myself to the arena to catch Cassidy Paris opening, and am glad I did. Last time I saw her was on a small club stage in Cardiff, but this amazing Aussie really shines on a bigger stage. With a powerful voice, fuck you attitude and great songs she absolutely owns the stage for thirty minutes, using the ramp more than all the bands put together so far. Songs are taken from her wonderful debut album, with a quick cover of ‘Misery Business’ (Paramore) thrown in the middle. She gets a decent reaction, and even in my dizzy state I can appreciate how accomplished her performance is, backed up by a very tight band that contains a very proud dad on lead guitar. Better than the Olympics.
Okay, I’ve got another confession to make (sit DOWN Grohl!). At this point I feel SO shit I wobble back to my tent and collapse, figuring I can still catch the later bands if whatever it is buggers off. This means I miss Dan Byrne, Jared James Nicholls and The Commoners, not to mention almost melting in my sleep, as the twenty six degree heat is WAY more fun in a tent, obviously. Luckily after a few hours zonked out I’m well enough to make my way back, soon as I check my camera for pics of Cassidy Paris and realise I spectacularly failed to get a single one in focus or in frame. I guess I was really feeling bad.
Anyway, I get to the main arena in time to catch The Last Internationale, and boy am I glad I did. All they way from New York and without a label (deliberately) they really kick some ass, helped by a very strong frontwoman in the shape of Delia Paz, who has a fantastic presence as well as a fantastic voice. They deliver a kick ass version of MC5’s ‘Kick Out The Jams’ but the highlight for me is ‘A Wanted Man’, a slower, powerful song that really hits home and sounds perfect. At the end of the set there’s nice surprise when Billy Sheehan comes on to play bass on ‘1968’. Last but not least.
My history with Living Colour started in 1988 with their first album and UK tour, and I still absolutely love the ‘Vivid’ album. Things don’t start well as there’s obvious sound buggery because they jump from a sound check straight into the set, the only band not to get an intro. Corey Glover fights against the mix throughout the set, and it’s a real shame because you can hear him singing well, it just takes a bit of a strain to filter out the rest of the band. Speaking of the rest of the band, they are sublime as they can be with such a muddy sound. Vernon Reid spends almost the entire time shredding and grimacing, going to town on his guitar like a fat kid on a biscuit. Highlight is the always wonderful ‘Cult Of Personality’, and biggest disappointment is ‘Funny Vibe’, simply because the poor sound makes the anti-racism song lose it’s power. Glover doesn’t look too happy throughout, and though the crowd enjoys it I can’t help feel it should have been so much better. Colour drained.
I’m looking forward to my first taste of Mr Big live, and they soon bound on out to the classic first album banger ‘Addicted To That Rush’, which is a cool choice of opener. Guitarist Paul Gilbert, in my opinion an absolute legend, looks like he wandered in from a Geography teacher’s conference, but by God he can still play. Of course, they do ‘Daddy, Brother, Lover, Little Boy (The Electric Drill Song)’ with plectrums on drills for ultra fast playing. Yeah, it’s a gimmick but it sure is fun. Eric Martin has long been one of my favourite vocalists but I have to say he’s sounding a little tired at times, with those famously high notes hiding a little out of reach, especially on ‘To Be With You’. He’s not bad, not by any means, but there’s no shame in dropping a song down a key if your voice isn’t what it was. The band are pretty safe in general, never too heavy for your Nan even when they go for it, and they have so many great songs the set is a pleasure to watch. Well, except when Billy Sheehan shows that even if you’re the best bassist in the world you still can’t make a bass solo interesting. Then again, Paul Gilbert’s guitar solo more than makes up for it... man that guy can play. They finish up with an inspired cover of The Who’s ‘Baba O Riley’ and though there’s some grumbling about the vocals (not from me, I get it) they did themselves proud. We’re not going to see them ever again, by all accounts, but I’m glad we could all say goodbye. Big and clever.
Finally, the weekend ends with a bang, an Almighty bang. Doing their fourth concert in thirty one years, the original band are back together and as soon as Ricky Warwick steps onto the stage you are left in no doubt that he’s the coolest guy up there all weekend. There’s not a lot of chat as they rampage through ‘Resurrection Mutha’ and about fifteen more until they finally sign off with ‘Wild & Wonderful’, which for some reason segues into ‘Summer Of 69’ at one point. No fancy set for these lads, just the logo and a shitload of attitude backed up by talent. You get no bass solos of any of that shite, because this is the all-fucking-MIGHTY, and they don’t piss about. Okay, obviously I enjoy it, but maybe that’s because I have had a nap and am not knackered! I’m part of the sitting down brigade, still a bit wobbly, but it’s a pleasure just to enjoy the band I first saw supporting Gun in 1988. My favourite track ‘Jonestown Mind’ gets a welcome outing, as does the crunching and powerful ‘Wrench’ and the wonderful ‘Full Force Loving Machine’. Every track is delivered with confidence and ability, Warwick just getting on with what he’s being doing for a few decades now and the rest of the band following suit without missing a step. They won’t touch Mr Big or Living Colour for technical ability, but make no mistake The Almighty win the day just for being the Almighty. Wild and wonderful.
Overall it’s been a successful and friendly festival. Newcomers to Steelhouse are always amazed at how nice it is compared to some of the bigger ones, and as usual the staff and locals were absolutely beautiful people through and through. Never been? You should.
Review & Photos: Alan Holloway
Gallery. All photos © Alan Holloway (used with kind permission)
Location:
Comments