Live gigs live sheet

This is my personal archive of the live sets I’ve seen over the years – pieced together from memory and old diaries. Some gigs were life-changing, some epiphanic, many unforgettable… and a few I’d probably rather not remember. But every single one has left its mark – not least in the form of my raging tinnitus.

For many of these shows (though not all), you can find reviews over on the link2wales site.

First gig I ever saw were The Jam, supported by The Vapors at Deeside Leisure Centre in 1979

The list itself lives in a constantly updated spreadsheet – every time I log another band I’ve seen, it grows.

Dive in, explore, enjoy – and maybe you’ll spot a few you were at too.

Neil Crud - Bands Seen

Moscow, Merseyrail and a Midnight March

 

It all started with a summer’s afternoon drive to Abergele to ditch the car, followed by hopping on a train to Liverpool with Declan and Rich. The journey, as ever, was a mix of quaint rural views and general chatter. The Merseyrail stretch as always was an epic endurance test: station after station after station... It felt like we stopped at every brick shed with a platform between Chester and Liverpool.

And let’s not even begin on the Merseyrail guards, who seem to fancy themselves as some sort of rail-bound Gestapo — checking tickets with an officious flair and glaring at anyone who dared sit with their feet on a seat. No toilets on the train either, of course — just in case the trip wasn’t uncomfortable enough.

But we made it. Our destination: The Quarry, a DIY venue tucked into the alternative seams of Liverpool’s underground. We were there for Moscow Death Brigade — the balaclava-wearing, antifascist, techno-punk-rap outfit from Russia. Live, they’re pure intensity: no breaks, no filler, just pounding beats, spitting rhymes, and circle-pit nonsense.

Asfixia Social kicked off with brutal energy, a hybrid blistering punk riffs, swaggering rap verses, ska interludes, metal‑tinged breakdowns, and Brazilian percussion. Yeah they're from São Paulo, Brazil and on their 'Planet Is Alive' tour.

Then came Old Radio, a band that only seem to come out on special occasions, and tonight was just that. Good to see/hear their ska'd punk sound and energy.

But alas, we were slaves to the timetable — the last train out of Lime Street loomed, so we had to leg it. We hit Rhyl at 1:45am and there were no taxis. Seriously. This is Rhyl in peak summer — where were the drunken holidaymakers spilling chips and fighting at the taxi rank? Where were the cabs?

Nowhere.

So, we said goodbye to Rich and then Declan and I did the only thing a men can do when faced with five miles of empty road and no options: we walked. Mild weather, thankfully. And there was some late-night drama in Towyn to keep things interesting — a group of travellers in a full-on brawl with themselves and the police. A roadside festival of fists, blue lights and confusion.

Eventually, Towyn became Belgrano and Belgrano became Pensarn and Abergele loomed into view like a sleepy promised land. Declan peeled off home and I got back behind the wheel for the final stretch — a quiet, questioning one-hour drive to the caravan, spent wondering:

Why the hell didn’t I just drive a bit further and get the train from Rhyl?

Bruise Control / Fuzz Lightyear @ Big Hands, Manchester

 

Big Hands is such a great venue - it has cool staff and a cool vibe. Drinking our way there from the centre of town it turned out the first band weren't on until 10pm. So this meant two hours of supping and chilling out to the best playlist I've never heard... The tunes were perfect for the mood; all dirty, sleazy and all from the garage of life.

Fuzz Lightyear had played a festival earlier today and waded into Big Hands a little flustered, but were ready to rock and roll by the promised 10pm. I'm still pondering as to whether the name Fuzz Lightyear is pure genius or totally ridiculous - probably both. This doesn't detract from the fact they deliver an audacious sound straight outta Leeds. It's noisegaze, post-hardcore, garage-fuzz, call it what you want, I thought it was simply neat. Psychedelic intricate guitars are built around Ben Parry's distinct vocals and the band pull no punches. The recent expansive addition of Alex Calder on guitar / synth brings a hint of the direction they're heading and the destination is exciting. Their volatile debut EP 'Fuzz II' brought a welcome grunge strewn barrage of noise, but there is more to come out the Fuzz locker.

Bruise Control are on home turf and the cruise control is set to max. The pedal is rammed against the metal and there's RedX in the tank. The turbo-goths have necked a fistful of pills from their Nan's medicine cabinet, washed them down with cans of Monster and they're gonna get GTA on your ass.
Fronted by the cartoon character that is Jimbob Taylor, who must live in a tin shack, surrounded by chickens on the side of a dusty highway, Bruise Control rocked my world. They trashed through their repertoire, kicking, screaming, spitting and shagging. Your head is forced down the toilet and is repeatedly flushed as they laugh at your misery.
This is cowpunk hardcore nonsense for deadbeats - YOU are a deadbeat - catch Bruise Control on tour with Sniff in May.
I have just ticked a box I didn't have to tick.

GIG REVIEW – Spilt, The Lotts, Crawlers, Harks @ Arts Club Loft, Liverpool

It’s staggering to think that it’s been almost 18 months since we actually endured a live band. Not seeing live music had become the norm in an abnormal world. Tentatively we edged across the tentative Welsh border into Covid-free England, where the shackle-free natives run wild and maskless.

On Seel Street sits The Arts Club Loft, and times have changed – the doormen used to say ‘If your name’s not down you’re not coming in.’ Now the tact is, ‘If you can’t prove you’ve been double jabbed then you’re not coming in.’

This is a conundrum, as the majority of freaks who’d be here would be of late teen early twenties. They’ve probably had only one jab towards the Depopulation by Forced Vaccination programme our trusted government has rolled out. Despite the Infected being turned away, the venue was still brimming.

Harks are sliding into a maelstrom of blissfully sonic feedback as we enter the atmosphere. They were previously called Sallow Pillow, which is a rubbish name. Facebook says they’re aggy neo-psychedelia from Liverpool, and I won’t argue with that. Their gnarly sound with distortedly spaced out vocals typifies this burgeoning mutant garage scene that is springing up in the area. There’s no old-guard here, governed by their set-ways, just loads of kids armed with FX pedals, psychedelics, spunk and no rules.

Crawlers are offset to the rest of the bill with a more traditional approach and sound to their output. Also from Liverpool and fronted by Holly Minto, they exerted confidence and a performance that warrants the attention and waves they’re making on the circuit. I saw a trumpet being lifted and thought, ‘Here we go…’ but it actually worked really well. Check out the new single Breathe.

The Lotts are a Warrington ensemble I’ve seen and raved about before. Their whirlpool of louder than loud noise sucks you into a world of bright lights, happy daze and life affirmation. Make sure you seek and never destroy their output, check the new single I’ll Get Round To It. There’s nothing not to like about these people and I’d like to buy them and make them my house band.

Spilt are a law unto themselves. They exist in the wormhole of a crack-pipe where Bong Crosby dreams of a white line Christmas. They are not of this earth, they are acid babies. Borne unto a world of Lethal Drizzle grooming Suicide Girls, they are tattooed in a mirror universe where ginger people don’t smell of piss and Digestives. These Runcorn rehab rejects are on a mission to soil your soul with rock ‘n’ roll – their own brand of rock ‘n’ ruin. More butthole than surfer, Spilt thicken the plot then take over the asylum. throwing women and children aside to reach their destination… They don’t know where that is, or why they’re heading that way, but they’re gonna have one helluva ride getting there.

Join them on their journey….

The Damned – Brickyard, Carlisle

In the summer of 2010, I made the long trip up from North Wales to Carlisle to catch The Damned at the Brickyard – and it was worth every mile. Thankfully, friends put me up for the night, making it a proper little adventure rather than just a fleeting dash across the country.

That's my big bald bonce at the front!

The venue had a sweaty, close-quarters energy – just right to see a band like The Damned, who thrive off the crowd’s enthusiasm. Captain Sensible was absolutely on form throughout the set, ripping through the classics with that signature mix of buffoonery and charm. Even better, he was mingling with us both before and after the show – no rockstar aloofness here, just a genuine connection with the fans.

The set leaned into their punk roots with big hitters like New Rose, Love Song, and Smash It Up, while also pulling out deeper cuts like A Nation Fit for Heroes. The crowd lapped it up, and so did I – one of those gigs where you come away feeling like you were part of something a bit special, and very intimate.

A proper night to remember – Carlisle may not often be the centre of the punk nostalgia universe, but for one Wednesday night in August 2010, it absolutely was.