Neil’s Review: Friday at Worcester Music Festival 2026
Worcester is famous for being the source of a sauce, but such a fine city deserves to be appreciated for much more than making cheese on toast 11% tastier. Worcester Music Festival began 18 years ago, and not considering a deadly pandemic, it gets bigger every year. Last year, there were just over 250 acts, and this year there are over 300 across 25 venues. By 2050, assuming we’re not all scavenging for raindrops in a desert hellscape, the festival will be so enormous that everyone’s nan will be playing bongos in bands named after Albert Camus novels.
Stephen and Sue Clarke are The Clarkes & Co., and they’re performing at the Copper Beech Brewery and Taproom. Their lovely harmonies compete with Chapter Nineteen’s soundcheck next door. One song mentions Facebook friends, and the lyrics “ghosts in the playground / see how they run” are, well, hauntingly beautiful. Sue’s accordion reminds me of the kids’ show Rosie and Jim and Eric Rohmer films. At one point, she says, “We do have two cancer songs, but we’ll lighten the mood now!” The next song is for “birdwatchers and people in love”. Indeed, you could say the same about The Clarkes & Co., who are the musical equivalent of being on a barge on a sunny day when everything feels right,
Chapter Nineteen’s first song is about Stephen King, and according to my notes, has ‘chunky chords that’ll put hairs on your chest’ – make of that what you will. “There’s a chance I’ll say something woke and snowflakey,” says front man Dave Musson, and seconds later he says, “Free Palestine, support trans rights, resist AI.” He holds his guitar high like Rage’s Tom Morello, and it’s decorated with Christmas lights. ‘Melting Point’ is “about all the horrible things ICE are up to…and about the far right”. Musson screams “save a life!” on a song that can be bracketed alongside the works of Fugazi and Deftones. ‘How Is There Hope?’ sounds like a million antelopes galloping to their doom in a fiery ravine. ‘Clifton’ is an account of Clifton Pollard, the man who dug President John F Kennedy’s grave in 1963. Its doomy …And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead-like fuzz is literally music to my ears. Next up is a brilliant cover of ‘Breed’ by “the best ever band to make music” (I wasn’t aware that The Beatles wrote it), then there’s a song about dying, which sounds and feels like being battered around the head with a fridge. Very enjoyable.
Bewdley-based blues duo Crimson Flame have attracted a large crowd to the Spin The Black Circle stage. I bump into my mate Paul, who tells me he’s been evicted and that his mum is very poorly. I decide against reminding him that he still owes me a pint from 2006. The Mayor of Worcester and her consort are spotted entering the establishment. Listening to Crimson Flame is like being in the hippest part of San Francisco in 1971. Their rendition of ‘Jonny B. Goode’ makes an older gentleman dance like an orangutan experiencing the liberating effects of laxatives for the first time.
Post-punk veterans Hurricane Tapes are in Tonic, which is opposite Worcester Crown Court, and has the décor and atmosphere of an Oxbridge old boys’ club. The band’s first song is The Ramones at 0.75 speed, and the second features squally riffs and a shoegaze outro. “Freak out! Freak out! Freak out!” screams front man Jonny Rose on a song that becomes a blend of garage rock and early REM for about 20 seconds before the appearance of Interpol-like guitar. A man looking like a Greek philosopher is sitting very close to the band like Pete Best trying to make a point. ‘So Alone’ contains a tumbling, menacing guitar line that could slot into your typical death metal song. People sitting by the front window nod to the music like a jury reaching a conclusion. ‘Fever’ is a “quick one” that sounds like Dead Kennedys, and the band’s final song is as celestially sad as Sigur Rós, but with a balls-out chorus. Thankfully this is not literal, especially as we’re only a few metres from the crown court as well as the local police station.
The Flames are playing at The Dragon, which is a very pleasing coupling of names. “You can take it or leave it!” bellows Gaz Slough on the first song’s chorus. He sounds a little like Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis, while the band’s rhythm guitarist Mark Hayes has a slight physical resemblance to Mark Hollis. A member of the audience man starts whistling the chorus melody as soon as the song ends. ‘Careful At the Top’ starts with drums that seem to have been inspired by The Clash’s ‘Train in Vain’ (well, if it’s good enough for Garbage…) and ends up sounding like a funkier version of The War on Drugs.
Xen Angeli is an extremely talented man. Formerly of hip-hop duo Case Closed, he’s now front man for post-grunge band UNTO the AGES. The Firefly is absolutely rammed – word has clearly got out that the band are a bit special. ‘Falling Away’ is a nod to “our nu metal roots,” and would indeed have been a huge hit if it had been released in 2001. Someone next to me says: “They’re really good. They remind me of Rage Against the Machine.” On ‘Best of Me’, Xen’s metal squeal is like a pen of pigs being simultaneously castrated. One particular drum fill is faster than an epileptic hummingbird. ‘Flow State’ is nu metal that becomes death metal. If you’re fond of raging with strangers in a controlled environment while imagining you live in a time when blink-182 were still relatively new, then go and see UNTO the AGES.
I only manage to catch the very end of Connie Gordon’s set at St. Swithun’s Church. She reminds me of Lana Del Rey, and her duet with Tyler Massey (a Bob Dylan cover) is brilliant – their very different voices work perfectly together. I dash to Drummonds to see Electric Ian, but a barman tells me it will be another 20 minutes before the gig starts. Two men are on the stage looking bereft and in need of an electrician. So, I go to the Oil Basin and arrive very early to see Reuben Sebright, who is front man for wonderful doom band Heavy Peace. Other revellers pile into the pub – “It’s like a school reunion!” Reuben says. Throughout his set, the audience is transfixed by his amazingly soft yet strong voice and seemingly effortless guitar playing. A song written about his fiancé, who is in the front row, appears to bring a proportion of the crowd to the verge of happy, lovely tears. Reuben urges the crowd to buy T-shirts, the sales of which may or may not be funding the wedding. I spot a red sticker on one of his speakers: ‘Tories Lie Bab’. For non-Midlanders, this can be translated as ‘Conservatives have a loose relationship with the truth, my good friend.’
By: Neil Laurenson
Check out Neil’s Reviews of the Saturday & Sunday at Worcester Music Festival.
Many thanks to everyone who gave up their time to organise and run this year’s festival. Thanks also to everyone who donated to Onside Advocacy, you can also still donate to the festivals Just Giving Page.