Attila the Stockbroker / Barnstormer 1649
West Malvern Social Club – Saturday, 11th July 2026
Kick-off brought forward to accommodate some other global event, Attila the Stockbroker / John Bain / Barnstormer 1649 (in essence, of the same genesis) achieved so much more in two hours than has just about any of 100-plus matches of FIFA’s World Cup fandango / farrago / fakery – and assuredly without going into extra time.
The last shall be first (as might have said the original Diggers, Ranters and Levellers); and tight and energetic is the band (and its sound engineer) that can otherwise so rarely unite in this urgent world of ‘other commitments’.
Barnstormer 1649, a random-seeming assembly of punk bass, neo-prog guitar, Cromwellian military drum, topped with front-man John’s succession of fiddle, mandola, tenor and alto recorders, Krummhorn, Rauschpfeife and sausage bassoon, all creates an evocative soundscape against which to set a rigorously-researched lyrical rip through the 1649 English Civil War chaos and, particularly, the oft-overlooked failure of the English Commonwealth, despite its marginalised offer (Diggers, Ranters, Levellers) of a prescient progressive political philosophy. Who knew that it could all be so compelling … and of such currency?
Afore this though, what John/Attila is best known for … his ever-expanding portfolio of spoken word, featuring initially his latest offerings, showing that fires still burn, that blissful honest domesticity dampens not the ardour, and that a life of committed concern for the well-being of fellow humankind ne’er diminishes.
Impassioned rhyme about illness and mortality, difference, consensus and forgiveness could be dangerous territory for any but the most deft and honest of stand-up punk poets. Tonight’s crowd receives John’s offerings of this nature with loud and long appreciation. Just as is received his practical appeal to men of a certain age to defeat the potentially fatal condition of front-of-GP reticence.
A deeper dip into the ranting poet archive follows, from when Attila the Stockbroker was even then watching England and stepping onto the same barricade as Benjamin Zephaniah, John Cooper Clark, Linton Kwesi Johnson, Craig Charles and Phill Jupitus, along with supporting (or being supported by) the likes of The Jam, Billy Bragg and Manic Street Preachers.
Long supporting Brighton & Hove Albion FC – not merely someone who goes to home games, but doing everything possible for the club, such as being the stadium announcer during the Seagulls’ difficult ‘exile’ seasons in Gillingham, and, John recounts, being strong-arm-Kent-Police-prohibited from playing ‘Anarchy in the UK’ over the stadium PA as a public disorder risk. Through subtle boundary-pushing it turns out though that ‘Smash It Up’ (The Damned) and ‘I Fought The Law’ (The Clash) are in compliance. John won. Smashed it.
Merch stall. Minutes tick off to kick off. John draws a fan’s focus to a Welsh language poem that he (John, the multi-linguist) had written. ‘Read it out loud’, John entreaties. It’s a paradoxical funereal paean to Dave Datblygu and the ‘80s Welsh underground music scene of which he was so inspirational. It’s a beautiful piece of writing: its rhythms, its sounds, its movement, its sheer feeling, hear multi-linguist John demonstrating for everyone there’s so much more to great poetry than just piling up sentences that might end in a similar way.
Kick off comes. Attila’s watching England.
By: Dai Morris