Live Reviews - Pete Wylie

Pete Wylie and the Mighty Wah!
The Magnet, Hardman Street, Liverpool - 06/10/04

He's still got a lot to say - and boy, he can't half say it.

Pete Wylie, one of the true Liverpool originals, was back on stage for his first proper gig in "three or four years" this week.

Where's he been? "Watching Trisha and Countdown," he confesses and "taking more therapy than Tony Soprano."

Before a capacity crowd of 250 Wylie devotees - many had travelled from around the country - this, at times troubled, genius reminded us all why he's one of the city's true treasures.

He's still got his spark, still got his targets to rant against, and most importantly he's still got the songs.

"Come Back" - in the top three songs ever written according to no less a judge than John Peel - gives Wylie an early chance to vent his highly amusing spleen.

Originally written as a response to the thousands leaving Liverpool during the Tory era, he has now switched his attention to those who did return - the estate agents, property speculators and trendy bar owners.

The first half is over in a flash - helped by Wylie forgetting to play Your Mother Must Be Proud, revisited later - and is brought to an end by the blistering nuclear doom warning of "Seven Minutes to Midnight".

Wylie treats us to songs from throughout his 25-year career - first single Better Scream, a touching Disneyland Forever (dedicated to its inspiration Gerard Conlon), and a beautiful Sing All the Saddest Songs.

There is also material from his excellently titled new record "Pete Sounds" though the man himself has no idea if it will ever be available anywhere other than his own website. "I haven't got funding you see," he jokes, in a side swipe at the city's handout culture.

The voice gets better as the night goes on and Wylie warms to his task, backed by an impressive new band.

Heart as Big as Liverpool goes down a storm - if Hardman Street had a roof, it is now off - and Sinful brings the main set to a predictable but fantastic singalong close.

It was never going to be enough though and after accidentally locking themselves in the dressing room, they're back for more, including an epic Story of the Blues.

So many songs, so little time. Wylie says he wants to play with this band for 400 years, but a December gig at the Academy is ambitious enough for now.

Forget Travis, Starsailor, Embrace and everybody else who played Radio Two's excellent Live in Liverpool festival. This fringe event was gig of the week, hell gig of the year.

Liverpool are magic, Everton are tragic, as EMLYN HUGHES once said and nearly got beaten to a pulp for it by some irate Evertonians in a Liverpool night club around the time Messrs. PETE WYLIE, KIRK BRANDON, GLEN MATLOCK and MIKE PETERS were cutting their teeth on the Punk and New Wave circuits.

So, as you'll imagine, your reviewer was wondering which side of the magic/ tragic coin this gig would fall. However, once all four culprits were on the Lomax stage - PETE WYLIE already larging it and proclaiming this was his birthday and that if Kirk, Glen and Mike don't perform the audience had every right to "twat them."

Proving once and for all that cliché about taking the man out of Liverpool, but never taking Liverpool out of the stuff, WYLIE 2002 looks more like a modern-day Mexican bandit (loud paisley shirt, huge girth, wouldn't look out of place in a TARANTINO flick…) and ranted against the audience when the crowd pointed out his expanding waistline to him. He replied, saying: "As long as your age is bigger than your waistline, you're doing alright!"

Wylie's witty repartee aside, something told me tonight would be something to remember and this was confirmed when they kicked off with MIKE PETERS cracking ALARM tune "The Stand", setting the pattern of one member diving into their back catalogue and the others accompanying in a round robin fashion.

Each track was introduced in anecdotal fashion with each person explaining why they wrote the particular track. Naturally, Wylie stole everyone's thunder by telling the crowd that his epic "Come Back" was about making a stand against a bad situation. Hallelujah to that.

Later, Glen Matlock told his anecdotal tale in a somewhat understated manner (by comparison) about his midlife crisis. He informed us that, despite being grateful for his wife, kids, food and shelter, he still craved something to take away the pressure of everyday life, before launching into "I wish I Was On Something."

Kirk Brandon then delivered THEATRE OF HATE'S classic "Do You Believe In The West World?" with a fiery passion, despite the fact his leg injury from 1987 still prevents him from standing while performing. He's seated throughout this performance.

The first set ended after 40 minutes, giving way to a mass scrum while punters dived for DEAD MEN WALKING merchandise or autographs or photos with their heroes.

After a 20-minute sycophant gap, business resumed. Wylie joshed: "What's the difference between a record company and Jonathan King? One of them takes your innocence - and the other one's Jonathan King!" Ha Ha, good joke, Wylie. The set then continued with PETERS crunching thru "68 Guns" ("69 Guns in the Liverpool Echo") and "Spirit Of 76", his tribute to Merseyside's legendary punk club Eric's. Wylie gets a name check in the lyrics, fact fans.

Wylie introduced Brandon's "Never Take Me Alive" with: "Kirk, are you gonna play my anthem?" setting the Lomax alight with approval. Aside from their own back catalogues, DEAD MEN WALKING also delved into THE CLASH'S "Stay Free", Wylie asking if there'd been a better group than THE CLASH in the past 25 years?

Clearly emotional, it allowed Wylie to re-live his past and he told us about slagging off THE CLASH to Strummer and Jones' faces in Paris (and losing a lift home in the process) only for Mick Jones to redeem himself by dedicating "Stay Free" to Wylie at a Royal Court gig later in 1981. Wylie's reading of the song tonight was both straight and telling.

The whole shebang ended in a celebration as DEAD MEN WALKING delivered seminal reworkings of "Blitzkreig Bop" and "Pretty Vacant", ex-FRANKIE Paul Rutherford wisely declining Wylie's best attempts to get him up onstage.

After the encore break, DEAD MEN WALKING climaxed with covers of THE MONKEES' "Stepping Stone" and THE SMALL FACES' "All Or Nothing" going down a storm with Birthday fat boy Wylie delivering parting shot "Heart As Big As Liverpool", whooping it up as though his life depended on it. Not bad for a bloke currently signing on.

More than anything, tonight demonstrated what an enigma Pete Wylie is. John Peel has always reckoned he should be massive and his mega back catalogue seems to dictate he should show more than an expanding girth. What the hell went wrong?

To answer that, I guess we'll have to wait for his autobiography. Unless, of course, a one man HOWARD MARKS - type show doesn't beckon first. If it does, I reckon he'd carry it off with considerable ease.

"The resistance starts here!" according to a manifesto penned by Pete "Wah!" Wylie. "It's about the return of rock'n'roll... real songs, not manufactured pap that's more soap-popera than it's Elvis." Helping to turn this classic specimen of Wylie bravado into action are Mike Peters (formerly of the Alarm), Kirk "Spear of Destiny" Brandon and ex- Sex Pistol Glen Matlock, collectively known as Dead Men Walking. It could have been preposterous or even tragic, but guess what - it's not bad at all.

Between them, this Crosby Stills Nash and Young of post-punk can boast a catalogue of hits, and for an encore they squirt some extra kerosene on the bonfire with a sprinkling of cover versions, including the Clash's Stay Free and a rousing finale of All Or Nothing. But what keeps the Dead Men walking is the way they have managed to pool what could have been a mismatched bag of material and make it sound as if it was supposed to fit together.

It is also a way of ensuring that nobody outstays their welcome. A whole evening of the Alarm's breastbeating anthems may have had the punters stampeding to the exits, but hearing Peters's versions of The Stand, 68 Guns and Spirit of '76, decked out with vocal harmonies and boosted by Wylie's authoritative lead guitar, was enough to remind you of what the band were about without drowning you in melodrama. Wylie's big moments - Sinful, Come Back and a particularly roof-raising Story of the Blues - retained their traditional Anfield swagger, but the gig's collective nature curbed his tendency to let his outsized personality swamp the room. The surprise of the night was Kirk Brandon, whose songs were short on scarf-waving exuberance but exuded an intense, smouldering quality. Westworld was a throbbing drone, and he sang Young Men with a gritted-teeth intensity that dared you to defy him.

Glen Matlock's songs aren't so recognisable as the others, but the combo's thundering version of Pretty Vacant was an apt reminder of his role in the Sex Pistols before the airbrush of time tried to erase his contribution. "We're standing up to count and be counted!" raved Wylie. It's worth a try.

I avoid any sort of reformation like a Catholic in fat Henry's England. These days they are generally the reserve of nostalgesic poppers, looking backwards, never forwards. But, this is a new conjunction of stars; a new constellation named Dead Men Walking. Their unsaid motto: You're never too old to rock'n'roll, if you got the heart and you got the soul.

So, Cambridge, Sunday night - the Dead Men walk in but the punters stayed at home. There's just enough of us in the hall to take the chill off the air of this dingy venue. What are the stop-ins missing? Well, the line up on stage looks promising. Perched on a stool with a strapless acoustic is Kirk Brandon (Spear of Destiny, Theatre of Hate). Standing alongside him is Glen Matlock (Sex Pistols, Rich Kids) also with acoustic guitar. Next, Mike Peters (The Alarm) and this projects architect with…yep, another acoustic guitar. Finally the Mighty Pete Wylie (the many incarnations of Wah!) with nothing acoustic whatsoever. Instead, a collection of electric guitars and a mean looking Marshall stack - he's a scouse, he's allowed to be loud. Together, they form The Resistance…no talk of old people's Ohms please!

They kick off with Peters' The Stand - "Come on down and meet your maker" - perhaps a call to the evenings future songs to pay a visit to their birthplace - the guitar - in the hands of the singer-songwriter. There's no pomp and just a tambourine for a rhythm section but there are some classics in this here set. Burning Sounds, a blast from Rich Kid Matlock's past is followed by a powerful arrangement of Brandon's Do you believe in the Westworld? - and what better time to ask the question? The song's spaghetti western-ness is re-inforced with swaggering, rhythmic pounding of guitar, guitar, guitar and er…guitar with Driller's huge voice complimented by an angelic sounding Wylie. Kirk's other contribution to the first half of the show was a poignant rendition of Young Men. Again, great arrangement with some top guitar work from the songs author!

The fact that Mike Peters was playing some great harp on the night was remarked upon by Mr. Matlock. "It's all down to suckin' and blowin' " replied Mr. Peters. Introducing Mr. Brandon, Mr. Matlock suggested that here was a man who knew all about suckin' and blowin'! Merciless and dry but not a patch on that scouse wit Wylie! Castigating Peters for his support of Man. U, he gave constant reminder to all and sundry of his teams victory that afternoon. Indeed, the 3-1 scoreline featured in the chorus to a couple of songs as did "There's only one Michael Owen".

In Houllier's absence, Wylie fielded a very strong side for this evening's game. Between the sticks the commanding and athletic Sinful (dodging a toilet roll full of hate?). Across the back the solid experience of 7 Minutes to Midnight / War. The manager commented that the inclusion of this popular veteran should bring plenty of cash through the turnstiles in the coming months what with that difficult away game in Afghanistan! In midfield, the majestic Come Back and up front the deadly Story of the Blues. Worra great shide, eh? Great thinking man's pop rock'n'roll delivered with a passion shared.

At half time, the Dead Men are available to buy drinks for in the bar in exchange for signings and general banter. The atmosphere is convivial, genial and all those things - it's a nice touch, just like the old days. These boys don't disappoint - all 'all-round nice geezers' happy to chat with their fans - not that you'd expect anything else of course, they're all punk rockers ain't they? and the Spirit of '76 never dies as Mike Peters says. It's about friendships (that of Peters and Wylie in particular), born around the early punk scene in Liverpool, but it's a universal. These are heart and soul performers, heart and soul people, who still feel they've got something to say and enjoy saying it in the best way they know how, by playing their songs. Another Peters' tune, I Love to Feel the Rain in the Summertime, brought the evenings best backing vocals - with some great sing-ging from Wylie in particular. Brandon's Pumpkin Man and Never Take Me Alive followed. Then Glen Matlock's choice of Stepping Stone showed him to still be as eager as were the Pistols to declare and pay homage to their musical roots. The set ended with Pretty Va-cunt, with Wylie powering out that intro before some great Presleyesque vocals from Matlock.

The encore was a rousing version of the Small Faces 'All or Nothing' - "it's the reason we're all here doing this" declares Wylie. This presumably meaning playing 'proper' songs that stand up to acoustic performance and delivering them with passion. While angry songs and protest songs might explode with feeble detonation there's something vital in 'winging it'; something fresh when you hear this stuff again and compare it to so much new computer generated dross. The re-discovery of soul in music - these men walking ain't dead yet and provide a 'must' night out for 40 year old kids everywhere…

A very tired set of Dead Men pulled up in York - three sets the day before (one with Pete sharing a billing with Embrace, then their headline show at the Toucan club and closing on the Janice Long show at 3am) had been followed by a long drive to Hull in order to appear on BBC Radio Humberside at noon.

A full house in a very off the beaten track venue was a pleasant surprise, seemed to be plenty of locals, including reasonably sizeable contingents of Spear & Alarm fans (although seemed to be the "haven't seen them in years" type. Venue was busy very early, possibly in expectation of a long show in a venue with a strict 11pm curfew. DMW opened their set almost dead on 9pm and maybe the tiredness showed as the early few songs were very short on the banter (Wylie was still trying, but wasn't getting much back from the rest). No great surprises early on - opening with the Stand & taking the MP-GM-KB-PW order through Burning Sound & Westworld. Wylie opened his book with a rare outing for Seven Minutes To Midnight - the first of several dedications to September 11th.

Two songs each (Rain In The Summertime, Open Mind, Young Men & Sinful) before an interval where all members appeared at the merch desk for chat & signing. Obviously a bad idea as they then couldn't get away to continue their set so a fifteen minute interval stretched nearer twenty-five. The banter was much improved by the second half, Wylie laying into both Kirk ("Taxi for O'Dowd" he repeated from the audience) and Mike (joke about a best Mike Peters haircut competition not having a winner, just highlights). Midway through the second half Wylie discarded his acoustic & picked up his Les Paul to add a bit of power. Still nothing we haven't heard before, the set continued through to the inevitable 68 Guns & Pretty Vacant (getting the biggest cheers & best reaction of the night as usual).

The encore showed a bit more promise, Wylie belting out the opening chords to White Riot before being told they couldn't do that one. A bit of argument & they collectively gave us a pretty damned good "Blitzkrieg Bop" by The Ramones - not a song I'm massively familiar with although I have heard it before. That was followed by "To The End" (Wylie couldn't seem to make up his mind whether Mike wrote it on his own or whether it was a MP/PW composition). Was surprised quite how much I liked it - not much of a fan of that type of Mike song, but it worked well with the four of them.

The set closed on the standard "All Or Nothing", finishing just before the 11pm curfew, having played something in the region of 90 minutes discounting the interval. Retired to the merch desk for some shopping (where Mike & Glen soon appeared to continue signing and chatting).

The Guildford Live CD is out (running order to follow separately) - priced at £14, plus a reasonable range of t-shirts featuring a new chinese character type logo as a centre chest print. Ladies skinny's in black & white along with a standard t-shirt (black only I think) and a V-neck which I think was grey. Also available was a black flight jacket at £60 - looked like the same type as have previously been available with Mike logos or the Alarm 2000 poppy. Reportedly the DMW merch will soon be available from the Dead Men site.

The resistance starts here. What a revelation the show was! I wondered what the chemistry would be like between Messrs Matlock, Wylie, Brandon, and Peters. The guitars might have been acoustic, but the buzz was electric.To start with, the Witchwood was packed, with fans of a combination of one or more of the Dead Men all mixing together.

With all four on stage simultaneously (with the occasional exception), it was exciting to see them playing one another's songs. The rousing opening of 'The Stand' set the tone for the evening. Alternating lead duties helped provide a good balance to the set. Glen gave us punchy renditions of 'Burning Sounds', 'Open Mind', 'Sad Meal For One', 'Stepping Stone', Rod Stewarts' 'On Something' and 'Ghosts Of Princes In Towers' (which Mike Peters admitted was the inspiration for The Alarm's 'Where Were You Hiding When The Storm Broke' which they then proceeded to play). Alarm fans were in raptures as they were treated to the likes of 'Spirit of '76' and 'Rain In The Summertime'. Amongst Kirk Brandon's highlights were the ever popular 'Westworld' and my personal favourite Brandon song, 'You'll Never Take Me Alive'. What can you say about Pete Wylie?! A mad Scouser! Enthusiasm oozes out of this man, as does his sense of humour. Taking the piss out of himself and others is second nature; no one is safe including the audience and his fellow band members! It all makes for great fun. Needless to say, he delivered passionate versions of 'The Story Of The Blues' and 'Come Back', well known to all the crowd. Special note should be made of an outstanding new composition 'Your Mother Must Be Proud Of You'. Brilliant.

'68 Guns' and 'Pretty Vacant' closed the main set. This was swiftly followed by the encore of 'All Or Nothing', which for tonight's show had Glen, Mike, and Pete sharing lead vocals, with Kirk providing distinctive backing. By the time they left the stage we had witnessed a show lasting two hours. Terrific value for money. They promised they would be back later in the year with an electric version of the show, and equally as exciting, an album.

If you are in the least bit interested in any of the four Dead Men Walking I can only urge you to check the show out. I just hope they can keep this going and stick together, because like Pete stated, 'the resistance starts here'. It's time to put your name down and sign-up.

Four acoustic guitars and four blokes from famous bands in the 70s/80s took to the stage, to a respectable but by no means sold out Dingwalls, just after 9pm, and did a set lasting nearly 2 hours.

It's a great idea where they each in turn sing their own songs with the others providing the backing. There were a few names in the crowd; Mick Jones (The Clash), Charlie Harper (UK Subs), as well as Chris Musto and Steve New from Glens 'proper band', The Philistines.

The highlights were; The Stand (Mike), Burning Sounds (Glen), Westworld (Kirk), Come Back (Pete), Open Mind (Glen), Sinful (Pete), You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory (Pete), Unsafe Building (Mike), Sad Meal For One (Glen), Spirit Of '76 (Mike), Ghosts Of Princes In Towers (Glen), All You Young Men (Kirk), You'll Never Take Me Alive (Kirk), Story Of The Blues (Pete), 68 Guns (Mike), and Pretty Vacant (Glen). The encore was All Or Nothing (Small Faces) sung by Glen.

It was a really enjoyable show with lots of on-stage banter, especially from Pete Wylie. I suppose it would have been nice to hear all the biggest songs from each artist, but I don't think that's the route they want to take.

I felt privileged to be in the audience listening to three guys who played from the heart. They connected together so well, the atmosphere, laughter and music just flowed. Their connection with the audience was blinding. It's not often that that kind of magic is present. These musicians made optimum use of guitar and voice. The performance grabbed every bit of my attention.

Kirk Brandon was the backbone of the melody when the three played together, picking out the chords with a clarity that can only come with a tuned in heart and soul.Out of the three Kirk provided the more angst-ridden lyrics, the gritty stuff of real life. His singing echoed the battlecry of the revolutionary. In contrast, Pete Wylie's lively banter with the audience, ever present one-liners and laughter were a combination of Elvis and the Laughing Policeman. This guy sang and played from his heart.

Mike Peters gave the balance and soul that connected the three together. Cracking guitar, cracking voice. He provided the energy, working his guitar strings with a fever that matched the entire night.

Glen Matlock's absence was disappointing but the remaining trio still managed to kick ass! The crowd went home satisfied at the end of a memorable night.

Dead Men Walking is not really a band, it is more like four for the price of one.

The Dead Men, playing Norwich on Saturday towards the end of a six-date tour of the country, are actually Glen Matlock of The Sex Pistols, Kirk Brandon of Spear of Destiny, Mike Peters of The Alarm and Pete Wylie of The Mighty Wah.

These four fairly different musicians are all graduates of punk in their own way and their mutual respect and admiration is clear.

The unusual format involved all four guitar-playing singers sharing the stage, taking turns to perform their own material, with varying degrees of backing from the others.

Brandon drew a terrific response with SoD hit Never Take Me Alive, Matlock showed the strength of his post-Pistols material with Open Mind and Wylie took us back to the 1980s with a stirring Story of the Blues.

For me Peters was strongest, simply because he refuses to act his age, belting out Alarm anthem 68 Guns and Neil Young cover Rockin' in the Free World with great energy.

The music was interspersed with stories and relaxed banter from the Dead Men, who promise to continue their collaboration.

Spurred on by an enthusiastic following at this excellent club venue, the Dead Men finished with storming versions of the Pistols' Pretty Vacant, the Small Faces' All or Nothing and The Who's My Generation.

Tonight Dead Men Walking had found their feet. A cosy quartet of rock history, from left to right, Kirk, Glen, Mike and Pete amused, entertained and educated the welcoming Yorkshire crowd. A particular highlight was Peters telling the story of performing 'Where Were you Hiding' on Top of the Pops and how he came about the idea of throwing the playing cards. On hearing this, Pete Wylie (having been handed some playing cards from the crowd) decided to add to the effect by throwing playing cards one by one, at Mike during his rendition of 'Hiding'! Mike then paid homage to Pete - 'he' of Spirit of 76 fame. Pete Wylie made a rousing speech about the 'Resistance' and how it was starting here! The night drew to a reluctant close with a stirring acoustic version of 'Pretty Vacant'. On to Worcester tonight at the Mars Bar and then to Radio 2 and the Janice Long show.

The Dead Men Walking Tour featuring:
Pete Wylie (The Mighty Wah!). Kirk Brandon (Spear Of Destiny). Glen Matlock (The Philistine). Mike Peters (The Alarm).

This event was always going to be brilliant. The idea - take four punk and new-wave stars, put them in a band together, and then let them play their own choice of their bands' classics and various covers, but do it all acoustic. Well this was Glen Matlock's plan - yes, that's Glen Matlock from the original Sex Pistols - and they're currently touring round England.

The band consisted of Glen Matlock on acoustic 6-string guitar, Brandon playing lead acoustic guitar, Pete Wylie playing 6- or 12-string acoustic and Mike Peters playing 6- or 12-string acoustic and some harmonica. The singer would be whoever's song they were playing, or whoever chose the cover. Fortunately, they all had voices perfectly suited to the songs that they were playing, and the four-guitars sounded great together, especially on songs such as the opener, Peters' "The Stand", which converted very well to the acoustic format.

The four played together like a band who had been touring for years, with a tight coherence between Brandon's warm, bluesy guitar and the 12-strings' jangling chords. Although they chose the set list as they went along, the covers they played included "Debris" by the Small Faces. The highlight for me was the Sex Pistols' classic "Pretty Vacant" sung by Matlock, before which Wylie declared that he'd "waited twenty-five years to play this song".

Wylie's scouser charm would show through between every song, with non-stop jokes and anecdotes, and the respect that he and the others had for each other as both friends and influences was obvious. There was a real sense of unity between the four men, which really enhanced the mood of songs such as Peters' "Spirit Of '76" and "Sixty-Eight Guns".

There was not one song played that didn't seem important in some way, from Wylie requesting Matlock's "Ghosts Of Princes In Towers" (from Matlock's Rich Kid days), through all of Brandon's bluesy, Dylan-like numbers, Peters' anthemic ballads and up to Wylie's own, soulful songs such as "Heart As Big As Liverpool".

Although the band may not have the same youth and vitriol as they once did, the punk rock attitude was still there, even if Vivienne Westwood's bondage-wear has now been changed to bright red loafers for Matlock. I found Brandon's rousing anthems to be particularly touching, as he would explain the context and meaning of each song before playing. Brandon in particular still displayed the anti-authoritarian view of the early punks, as he played his "At Her Majesty's Request" with the line: "if they could, they'd have hung us".

The Aberdeen crowd were treated to a sensational start to the Dead Men Walking Tour. Opening with The Stand, Matlock, Wylie and Glen Matlock joined Mike Peters and then all 4 members remained on stage to perform Burning Sounds by the Rich Kids, West World, by Theatre of Hate, and Story of the Blues by Wah.

The set continued with each member performing their own song. Peters chose 'A New South Wales' telling the tale of his home country whilst Wylie and Brandon sang of their own experiences of crimimal injustice.

The set drew to a close much later with Sinful by Wah, Never Take Me Alive, Spear of Destiny, 68 Guns by The Alarm and Pretty Vacant by Mike's all time favourites, the Sex Pistols.

PETE WYLIE + COLIN WAKEFORD
The Witchwood, Ashton Under Lyne
Paul McCaig took the night out in Ashton to sample the Wylie wit:

This was Pete Wylie's third visit to The Witchwood in under a year: November 2000 with The Mighty Wah!, June this year with Dead Men Walking (the punk supergroup containing Wylie, Mick Jones, Mike Peters and Glen Matlock) and now as "Pete Wylie.com" (product branding as he put it).

He arrived this time with only a couple of acoustic guitars, a Les Paul and a Marshall 4x12 (!) in the back of the van.

The opening set was from Colin Wakeford (who had also opening the November 2000 gig). He opened with "Scratch", introduced as a new song about the plight of Eczema sufferers, and ended with the poignant "Mersey Shore"; an ode to another Scouse songwriter ("Instant Karma" was that teenage dream).

Second up was otherwise unadvertised Julian Musgrove, fresh from his honeymoon and armed with a Takamine and a pedal board; the latter of which he utilized with, in my opinion, mixed fortunes throughout his set (when he wasn't verbally sparring with Wylie about who was carrying the most weight!).

Then on came Wylie, with the Marshall stack center stage and his girlfriend, Angie - sporting the most luminous pink Stetson - sitting in the wings. He regaled us with stories of him hanging out with his music buddies Mike Peters and Mick Jones; the latter of whose mention prompted the crowd to heckle for "London Calling". The songs, and the banter, continued as a set of familiar, and not-so-familiar numbers, from his back catalogue were given the solo treatment. "Sinful" and "Story of the Blues" predictably brought the set to a close.

Not so predictable was the closing encore: Gilbert O'Sullivan's "Alone Again, Naturally". Not a bad song when stripped of its seventies man-in-flat-cap image. All that was left was for Wylie to storm off stage into the dressing room and for the punters to head out into the night. Had a quick chat with the man himself in the dressing room afterwards. He apologised about his long sound check (problems with his stomp boxes - foot pedals to us older musos) and discussed buying suede jackets in New York (as you do). He said he might pop down to one of Steve Roberts' Acoustic Engine gigs. Pete Wylie as Stamps: that would be something worth seeing!

RATING: 9 out of 10
VERDICT: Stunning. Pure, heartfelt rock n' roll and a definite contender for best gig of the year.

You’ve got to give it to Wylie. He’s a true rock n’ roll survivor. Despite being one of this country’s greatest living songwriters, apart from a couple of minor blips his work never troubled the mainstream in the way that of his peers did. Yet he refused to give up. The last decade was a particularly tough one for Liverpool’s favourite son (the real people never really liked McCulloch and The Beatles don’t count), full of bad luck and personal disasters, yet he has bounced back and, unbelievably given the quality of his earlier work, appears to be at the peak of his powers both as a singer and as a songwriter. His guitar playing isn’t bad either, come to think of it. Tonight, Wylie sets his own benchmark by kicking off the set with Johnny Thunders’ "You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory" and then immediately tops it with his own "Never Loved As A Child". Ably backed by the latest version of The Mighty Wah!, who come on like an amphetamine-fueled cross between the E Street Band and Crazy Horse, he works his way through the older classics ("The Story Of The Blues"; "Sinful"; "Come Back"; "Better Scream") and newer, soon-to-be-classics ("FourElevenFortyFour"; "Hey Mona Lisa"; "Disneyland Forever") with a passion hardly ever witnessed on the rock n’ roll stage these days. And that is the key to Wylie’s genius: his passion. Every song he writes and sings comes from straight from the soul. Even the mawkish "Heart As Big As Liverpool" (surprisingly earning one of the biggest audience responses of the night) works, because he sings it like he means it. It is this very passion that makes listening to the venomous "Your Mother Must Be Very Proud" so difficult and the audience-requested "Sing All The Saddest Songs" such a joy. Even when covering other people’s work, he throws his heart and soul fully into the performance of the song, whether it is "Amazing Grace", "The Wonder Of You" or his stunning take on Gilbert O’Sullivan’s "Alone Again (Naturally)". Believe us, until you’ve heard Wylie sing the latter, you have not heard it at all. As ever, though, the real show stopper is one of the first songs he gave ever wrote, the punk anthem to end them all, "7 Minutes To Midnight", sounding as fresh today as it did 20 years ago. Today’s batch of talentless three-chord wonders (Oasis, Travis, Stereophonics, Embrace, Coldplay et al) can only dream of ever writing a song as good. If life was fair, Pete Wylie and the Mighty Wah! would be playing stadium-sized venues with a giant lemon in tow. Fortunately for us, life isn’t fair, so we get to see them up close in a small club in Kings Cross. Like all truly great artists, Wylie’s much-deserved recognition will probably come when it’s far too late. Make the most of him while you can, you lucky, lucky people.

"Pete Wylie, you are God!" Wylie knows this already, but he can't resist a sly smile at the first of many adulatory heckles. Julian Cope and Ian McCulloch, his co-conspirators in Liverpool's legendary punk outfit The Crucial Three, may have enjoyed greater fame in the past two decades, but Wylie has enough self-belief to raise himself above everyone else. Wylie doesn't style his hair and outfit on The King for nothing - he genuinely believes he is up there with Elvis and God.

Wylie slots in his biggest hit, 1982's 'The Story Of The Blues', as the third song tonight. He wants his current material, this year's 'Songs Of Strength & Heartbreak' album, to get the respect he believes it deserves. It's his career high, but these songs do suffer without the Columbia-funded production. Tracks like 'Hey! Mona Lisa' should boom with Phil Spector's wall of sound and crackle with the vigorous intent of The Clash, but they end up with not enough sweeping grace and too much bullish charm.

Although three guitars, a keyboard and a backing singer can't quite do justice to Wylie's modern masterpieces, they can glorify simpler songs such as 'Sinful'. These old favourites are no less effective, but at two-and-a-quarter hours' duration, the man with a gob as wide as the Mersey Tunnel should pare things down a little because this show, while at times superb, was too exhaustive a trail through the back catalogue.

A more streamline Pete Wylie enters the stage, all grins as he announces the debut of his new Elvis-style shirt and with his Elvis guitar in hand the king of Liverpool is back. With only a few traditional cries of 'PeteLoaf' (I couldn't resist) he launches into a short rendition of the Johnny Thunder's song 'Cant put your arms around a memory' before speeding things up with 'Never loved as a child'.

This is a venue made for Wylie, he's no stadium rocker, he thrives on small packed venues where he can enjoy banter with the crowd. He tells us that he won't be running around like that twat Robbie Williams to the crowds approval and advises us all to go out and see as many bands as we can, 'it doesn't matter how crap they are, it beats staying in and watching 'Steps' on Top Of The Pops!' And with a performance like this its hard to argue, he goes through his whole repertwah including the eighties anthemic 'The Story Of The Blues', 'Come Back', 'Sinful' and 'Disneyland Forever' and the new 'Your mother must be very proud'. Wylie flows from one song into another, interspersed with witty anecdotes.

One cant help but wonder why, with such a collection of beautiful and angry songs, why Pete Wylie isn't bigger than he is. All the songs we hear are filled with pain but with a hint of optimism, what Wylie would call 'optimisery' and all the songs are sung with a passion that few could match. Before re-emerging for the encore, Wylie finishes with an emotional 'Heart As Big As Liverpool' which reminds us how lucky we are that Wylie was born in a city which inspires such passion, lets be honest, heart as big as Grimsby wouldn't have had the same ring to it.

It was billed as 'Pete Wylie is the Mighty Wah' but the Mighty Wah has always involved a band. The latest band are mighty indeed. And Pete Wylie is, well, Pete Wylie, and better at it than ever.

Who else could build up his genius and put himself down in one speech? Who else could rival Chubby Brown, on next door at the Empire, in the comedy stakes? Who else could start a show with 'You can't put your arms around a memory' and then play a greatest-hits set?

'Better Scream', 'Sinful' (a stupendous finale), 'Seven minutes to midnight' (an epic encore): a reminder that despite the ups and downs of his career the body of work is rock-solid classic.

If 'Story of the Blues' and 'Come back' encapsulate the history of 1980s Liverpool, then 'Hey Mona Lisa' encapsulates the history of soul and pop in one glorious package. And it says something that the new songs (some from the 'Songs of strength and heartbreak' album, some newer still) are as powerful as the old ones.

Life begins at forty-something. This could be the best Pete Wylie gig I've seen. And you almost believe he's as much a genius as he tells you he is.

U2, Delta 5, Thompson Twins
from New Musical Express, February, 1981
By Paul Du Noyer

....Called back for more, U2 reappear with Bono bringing on "one of the new breed" - his ally and counterpart Pete Wylie from Wah! Heat. Wylie, too, has a voice of formidable force, and the two singers deliver a stunning version of "All Along the Watchtower." "11 O'Clock Tick Tock" is the parting shot. It really was a night for going over the top, whatever that might be, and one for going over the top about. U2 have "arrived" and count among the most valuable assets in modern music....

Were one to play a Quantick-style Chrimbo game where you had to get from Mott The Hoople to Frankie Goes To Hollywood in four career moves, the fair-to-middling contestant might reach square three. This is roughly where The Mighty Wah! live.

For Pete Wylie is really a rock messiah of the old school, shades of Townshend and Ian Hunter for example, but who has shrewdly figured out that camp razzmatazz takes the pomp out of pomposity yet leaves bombastic intact. That's not saying it wasn't a fun evening, but I get the sneaky feeling that Pete Wylie was the only one not in on the joke.

For Pete seems to reckon that inside the gob-rotting Scouse showman there lurks a British Bruce Springsteen struggling to get out. But we all know that he's just another self-deluded pranny with a rousing line in terrace-anthem poetry - and that's no bad thing at all. But his credibility gap is nearly wide enough to fit his head in, and certainly well sufficient to undermine that sense of rebel solidarity and resistance through pride which Pete so obviously yearns for. But a lively set of tunes to send you internally central-heated into the bleak midwinter night: 'Weekends', 'Body'N'Soul', 'Better Scream', 'Come Back', rang out bold as brass and almost mock-heroic.

And a bloke who can get up on stage wearing the wartime Free French Cross of Lorraine emblazoned on his buccaneer-poet's shirt whilst flanked by leather-honcho understudies for Frankie must have something going for him.

Yes, you've guessed it, Pete's a character. That's OK by me, but I can't help thinking that he won't be happy until the People's Republic of Liverpool honours him with a statue, in which case count me in as a
pigeon.

13th May 1989 issue of NME has a review of a Hillsborough benefit concert at the Liverpool Royal Court. The first two thirds talk about the backstage pre-show goings-on, support act The La's, and headliners The Mission - and then:

I stand backstage throughout their set, and during 'Sacrilege' a mysterious understudy appears next to me, in ponytail, biker's jacket and leather trousers. It's Pete Wylie, post-Wah survivor and, well, the alternative Gerry Marsden! He swanks onstage, accompanied by a totally unfanfared Mick Jones (star guest!). Wayne informs his throng that Pete hasn't been onstage for four years (so bear with him) and the expanded all-star Mish launch into a tearaway rendition on '1969' (reminiscent of The Sisters circa '84 - that good.)

Then, Wylie and Jones are left alone to play Flanagan & Allen to the open-minded section of the crowd. "F--- off!" say the other section. "Call us the Nevilly Brothers" says Pete cryptically. "So what's Wayne Hussey's favourite song? I asked his manager this week - they told me this is his favourite song. The is for Wayne and The Mission for letting us do this, and this is also for Liverpool." A cheer. And The Nevillys strum through an acoustic version of 'Strawberry Fields Forever". Somehow -somehow- it's okay. God knows how - maybe it's just Wylie's audacity, or the understated presence of an ex-member of one of the most crucial rock groups ever.

"Over £9000 has been raised already!" exclaims Wylie. "This is a song for the people who are bereaved, man. This song is f--- all, but it means something to me..." going into a Johnny Thunders song, 'You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory' ("Don't try, don't try"), the second of tonight's specific capital 'M' moments.

Climax. The all-stars are just through the intro to 'Pretty Vacant' and BANG! Above my head there are fireworks! An electrical cable has worn through and shorted - too close for comfort. "You got a fire extinguisher back there?" asks a Royal Court hand and a minor panic ensues.

CLANG! The power is tuned off, plunging the whole house into darkness. I move. The band members hover. Two bright sparks (real ones) fix the wounded cable with magic tape, and out of the blackness, something weird and unique and extra-special happens. The restless melee transforms into a rousing chorus of 'You'll Never Walk Alone', which echoes around the theatre until the lights are fixed and hairs on the back of necks do a standing ovation. There is a light that never goes out, after all. "Can't anyone do conjuring or anything?" quips Wylie. No need.

THE MIGHTY WAH!: London Drury Lane The Talk Of London
Monday February 28 2000

"Christ, is Pete Wylie still going? Didn't he die or something? Yeah, just what we need, yet another '80s has-been dining out on dim and distant notoriety: It's the third millennium for God's sake. It's all Robbie and Noel round here these days....

No, he didn't die. That was Elvis Presley. That was Brendan Behan. That was Curtis Mayfield you were thinking of or some other 24-Carat soul, raging blind against the dark, God-blessed visionary genius. Pete Wylie is alive and well, thanks for askin', still kicking against the pricks and still the biggest self-proclaimed gobshite that Liverpool's ever produced - which is saying something - so where the fuck were you, you lousy bunch of arse? You've just missed the gig of your life.

If Pete Wylie didn't exist no amount of booze or misfortune could ever hope to colour him in. The '80s saw him flirt sporadically with chart success while less talented peers such as Bono and Weller went stratospheric - Wylie wouldn't thank you for such run of the mill comparisons though. In his own mad, deluded take on things he's always been trading licks with the like of Elvis and The Beach Boys. The colossal 'Story Of The Blues', a sweeping production worthy of Phil Spector, saw him primped and preening on Top Of The Pops, all cock-of-the-north swagger and 8 mile high reverb. 'Come Back' and 'Sinful' followed, each as magnificently overblown and heartfelt as the one before.

All these we get tonight, and it's like an angry earthbound angel has got you by the lapels and is shouting the truth full into your face. In among the constant quips, the putdowns and braggadocio, Pete Wylie rips open his black ruffled shirt and gives us a glimpse of the pain and hope that have over-punctuated his life. He allows us a glimpse of the fury and the fervour that pulled him through when he was laid out for four long years with a broken back. He's the Sacred Heart with an electric guitar - and he's fucking amazing.

New single 'Heart As Big As Liverpool' stands comparison with anything he's done. Prefixed with the opening bars to 'Amazing Grace' it'll no doubt be dismissed as sentimental by those who confuse honesty with schmaltz. It should be Number One until Christmas but it won't be. Pete Wylie is a star: Muhammed Ali with a Scouse twang and a fondness for multi-tracked pop he recognises that in these genetically-modified, boyband-infested and largely secular times the closest thing we've got to a God is the cool succour of music bled from the soul. It might not be much to believe in, but it's more than most people have got. And, looking into Pete Wylie's face tonight, you know he's definitely a believer.

Billie Swift - Music 365
Tue Feb 29 2000 16:41 GMT

PETE WYLIE & THE MIGHTY WAH! AT THE TALK OF LONDON
Times 01/03/00

The Pete Wylie story is one of the great never-ending soap operas of British rock. Essentially a one-man band, Wylie's Mighty Wah! was tipped for the superstardom almost 20 years ago after scoring short-lived chart success with his impassioned blend of soulful, declamatory vocals and thunderous arrangements. But he was soon eclipsed by his more fashionable Liverpool peers and spent much of the following two decades wrestling with legal and personal problems, including a broken back and several stalled comebacks.

In between self-mocking jokes about his thinning hair and thickening girth, Wylie played a rousing set to about 200 people at the Talk of London on Monday night. With a stage persona which combines elements of Elvis Presley and Jimmy Tarbuck, the fortysomething singer even found black humour in the dramatic sacking of his previous backing band just days before this latest exercise in career revival.

Tracks from Wylie's long-delayed new album, Songs Of Strength And Heartbreak, proved that his flair for swollen sentiments and widescreen arrangements remains undimmed. Highlights among the recent material included the full-blooded garage-rock blast of Never Loved As A Child and the gospel-flavoured rush of Mona Lisa. But neither proved quite as epic in scale as his current single, the majestic ballad Heart As Big As Liverpool.

There were moments when the onstage excitement was diluted by overlong comedy monologues. But all such lulls were counterbalanced with some explosively exhilarating music, including the classic former singles Sinful and Come Back.

The set inevitably climaxed with Wylie's best-known composition, The Story Of The Blues, a No 3 hit all of 18 years ago. From a renegade elder statesman of British rock, this swaggering football-terrace homage to injured pride and squandered potential sounded more heartfelt than ever.

Wylie remains an endearingly gauche, heroically uncool figure who is probably too honest and self-destructive for his own good. He should have been the British Bruce Springsteen, and may yet reach such lofty heights. But whether or not he succeeds with this, his umpteenth comeback is immaterial. Because, as he proved on Monday, he will always be playing Wembley Stadium inside his head.

Stephen Dalton
The Times

Independent 01/03/00

"I HATE the fact that my songs are fabulous but no one's here," the Mighty Wah!'s Pete Wylie moans inaccurately at the almost-full crowd in this cabaret venue, as if all he can see are the thwarted hopes of his 20 year career.

Always the most obscure of post-punk Liverpool's self-described Crucial Three - the others were Julian Cope and Ian McCulloch - Wylie, like them, attempted stardom through egotistic desire and songwriting skill. But the latter quality - at its greatest in his Top 3 dole pride anthem "The Story Of The Blues" in 1983 - has been obscured by a tragicomic life.

Wylie's nights spent as the country's most notorious hanger-on at after-show pop parties have been punctuated by isolated hits, a tumble over a railing which broke his back and almost killed him, and a bitterly fractious break-up with a girlfriend which ended in court. He was dropped from Columbia before his new LP, Songs Of Strength And Heartbreak, could be released (Castle have since picked it up), and his band quit last Tuesday. To some he's still a hero, to others, damaged goods. "I'd been told this was my last chance," he says of this latest return. It may be later than that.

So what becomes a 42-year old who still needs to be a pop star most, as he makes his last stand? Wylie's attitude seems to be that you've got to laugh, or you'll cry. Wearing a frilly black shirt appropriate to the cabaret circuit, he chats openly to a crowd of loyal retainers, holds nothing back as he explores his mental state, and deprecates his comeback's chances.

His band - cobbled together in a week, perhaps, but still excellent - approximate the feisty sound of his Eighties pomp, all clanging guitars, stabbed pianos, bellowing female backing and sampled brass. The new songs may grapple with the fallout of his failed relationship, most bleakly on "Alone" ("If my hatred's more than you deserve/I've nothing else left in reserve"), but there's always a big chorus coming, making them indistinct from the old hits - "Sinful", "Come Back" - that tumble by.

As Wylie lists his inspirations - Bill Shankly, Ali, Elvis, the Clash's Mick Jones (who stands watching) - the grand company he wants his work and life to keep is clear. But it's only at the end, as he rewinds to his career's very start, that the special something he's always claimed he possesses is proven. "The Story Of The Blues" is blundered through dismissively, a disappointment, but at least it's there. And then "7 Minutes to Midnight" blasts out, a song as old as his ridiculous career, and every part is perfectly, passionately played. Wylie still has his dignity, and that's all anyone can ask."

The Mighty Wah!'s new single, 'Heart as Big as Liverpool', is released on When! Records on 20 March.

Beautiful Optimisery
The Mighty Wah - Talk of London

"It's been a long time since we've seen a rock 'n' roll show like this. A show where, as well as good tunes, a tight band and the usual stuff, you get jokes, anecdotes, love, humiliation, unashamed sentimentality, and a feeling that the whole thing matters so much to the artist, he may break down any second. It's an old-fashioned idea, giving everything on stage for rock 'n' roll, creating glory from teetering chaos, snatching victory from defeat. But legendary Liverpudlian ligger, blagger, self-confessed prick and occasional singer songwriter Pete Wylie does all this and more at his inspirational comeback show.

Wylie is a contemporary and rival of Julian Cope and Ian McCulloch, and got his taste of chart success in the mid-80's. You might remember Story Of The Blues or Sinful or Come Back, all played brilliantly here. Since then, he has done little except break his back in 1991. A new album, Songs Of Strength And Heartbreak, was due out last year but, in true Wylie style, he was dropped before it did.

This show is to promote its release on an indie, and Wylie proceeds to play with this mis-understood loser status for 90 minutes of passionate cabaret and lash-meets-Springsteen anthem-toting. By the end, he has made our jaws ache, with inspired on-liners, brought a lump to our throat with wanton displays of vulnerability, dedicated songs to Bill Shankly, Gerry Conlon of the Guildford Four and pretty much each one of us individually, and confessed that his last band dumped him less than a week ago. Considering that tonight's group make like the E Street Band after overdosing on Sunny Delight, it's no wonder he treats them like heroes.

He describes his over-riding character trait as "optimisery" - that is, life is the greatest thing and the very worst, simultaneously. In this spirit, you get a chubby man in a black ruffle shirt pointing out his girth and re-christening himself Peteloaf, before singing the finest song of his career. Heart As Big As Liverpool sums up everything about Wylie: a song about death that affirms life, a chorus that takes your breath away, the slightly guilty pleasure of falling for a song so crass, so overblown, so Ferry Cross The Mersey. But everything about Pete Wylie shows up cynicism for the coward's way out that it is. If there is a more extraordinary rock gig this year, I hope to God I'm there."

Garry Mulholland
Guardian 01/03/00

The Mighty Wah!
Talk Of London Theatre - NME review

Pete Wylie always had a heart as big as Liverpool and an ego to match. In the 'Pool of the late '70s he was one of the self-styled Crucial 3 with Julian Cope and Ian McCulloch, blessed with prodigious talent and a terminal case of self-delusion. Under increasingly bizarre variations on the Wah! moniker, he released a clutch of fantastic singles in the '80s - and then vanished.

Well now, at the age of 42, he's attempting his greatest comeback yet. This time after a) falling down a hole and breaking his back at the start of the '90s and b) getting dropped by Columbia after making an album that's rumoured to have cost £750,000. That album ('Songs Of Strength And Heartbreak') is brilliant - a swaggering, sentimental collection of epic missives from the edge. Unfortunately, that's not how it sounds tonight.

Because this is a shambles, an entertaining, rambling and occasionally brilliant shambles, but still a shambles. Wylie arrives onstage in a black frilly shirt, looking like Robbie Williams after four decades in a pie factory, and starts with a cover of Johnny Thunders' 'You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory'. He follows it with 'Never Loved As A Child', a song off his new album, and it immediately becomes apparent that his band (hired at the last moment after his previous group walked out the week before) are winging it.

Not that Wylie lets that concern him, because this isn't so much a gig as a therapy session. A bizarre cocktail of insane ego ("If Tom Jones were alive today, he'd record this," he says, introducing one song) and hilarious self-deprecation ("I know, I look like Peteloaf"), Wylie does occasionally let a song intrude into the chat. And despite the band's roughness, the effervescence of tracks like 'Disneyland Forever' can't be repressed, and by the time he gets to 'Heart As Big As Liverpool' (the best song he's written by the width of the Mersey), you're ready to forgive him anything.

Well, almost anything. Thirty minutes later, he's still playing. An encore of old Wah! song 'The Story Of The Blues' is followed by another reappearance, this time to do 'Seven Minutes To Midnight'. When he eventually disappears, it's something of a relief. He remains a one-off. It's just hard to know if that's still enough.

James Oldham

THE STORY OF THE BLUES
PETE WYLIE (THE MIGHTY WAH!)
(Notting Hill Arts Club, Notting Hill, London : 22.04.2000)

I'm strolling around Portobello Market, then all of a sudden I got a flyer for a free gig which is about to start just minutes later in the afternoon in a basement which turns out to be a tiny arts club. In there you find yourself bumping into ex-Clash's Mick Jones who's filming the gig. It's all a bit weired. Well, it must be Pete Wylie's strange aura. And when he says he doesn't really have a clue why he's here, you can't help but believe him.

Next the DJ fades the last tune (by the ASSOCIATES) out. It's time to go on stage for Mr. Wylie. But surprisingly he asks the DJ to leave the track on, because he wants to listen to it ( cool!) - so we all wait and listen together with Pete on stage to 'The Associates'!

Next he didn't had a setlist and it also took ages to wait for Pete to replace a broken string. Maybe I should also mention that this was an entirely acoustic gig - just Pete and his guitar with a flyer from London's 'trash-club' stuck on it. Funnily I remember more Pete's little stories in and between his songs, than the songs themselves. Yes, he played 'story of the blues' and 'the song for liverpool' but that wasn't really important. Sometimes the songs just had to be interrupted, because all of a sudden he started laughing or just wanted to tell us things, like for example how much disrespect he got for f… Britney Spears. And obviously his inevitably little anecdotes about friend/foe Ian McCulloch (ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN).

Yes, the songs were good, but Pete's charm made this gig in many ways extraordinary - and oh - there was Mick Jones, too!

Lipgloss