Stone Valley North – festival review

Stone Valley Festival North
Durham
5-7th August 2022

It’s never going to be easy competing against the return of Rebellion Festival over the same weekend, but Stone Valley, which has been establishing itself amongst UK festivals over the last few years, raised the bar and then some. Sunny weather, decent priced drinks, lovely staff and security and folk having a ball. What’s not to like?

This was my first experience of Stone Valley; it’s a friendly, fun and laid-back event which very much put me in mind of the much-missed Wickerman, with a very similar chilled feel, a scooter-friendly line-up from the ska, soul and punk scene and a family-welcoming vibe. If camping isn’t your thing, it won’t be for you but that was all part of the fun – much of the after-hours shenanigans back at the campsite were worth the price of admission alone.

With many of the bands out in the North of England for their dates at Rebellion, there was a fair bit of crossover; personally, I wasn’t complaining as the chance to see some of these legends up close and personal and on an outdoor stage was quite something. Many of the bands were out wandering the main arena and the sight of members of Bad Manners and Big Country trying on daft hats and digging through crates of vinyl was definitely an indicator of the relaxed atmosphere of the whole weekend.

The festival started a few years back (and pre-covid) as a meeting of minds and machines from the scooter scene and evolved from there. There’s still a fair old smattering of chrome and brilliantly detailed paint jobs puttering around the site, and the Saturday morning ride-out of the scooters was apparently brilliant; I have to admit I missed it as I was suffering from the previous night’s gin extravaganza but the missus enjoyed it hugely, despite being an old-school girl on a motorcycle herself.

Anyway, to the music. Friday night’s highlights for me were an oddly ebullient Hugh Cornwell who was out with a band rather than solo acoustic; giving the lie to his reputation as a curmudgeon, he joked with the huge crowd and played the well-known material which was something of a surprise. A juddering Walk On By and a soulful Strange Little Girl had the crowd swaying, and a singalong Always The Sun sent the people back to the tents happy.

The Primitives had an unenviable opening slot on the main stage but raised their game, ahem, gamely. The sound was pretty suspect early on in their set as the crew seemed to be struggling with the outdoor setting, with Paul Court’s guitar taking a little while to settle into its chiming self leaving the rhythm section a tad murky. Joking about “You’ll know who we are now” prior to chart-smasher Crash was selling themselves a little short; the excellent Spin-a-rama and Sick Of It saw the crowd lap them up.

The Bootleg Beatles are quite something to behold; taking the tribute band notion to the absolute max (the drummer is wearing a “Ringo” nose, the right handed bassist is playing left-handed a la Macca and someone tells me that “John Lennon” has had surgery to look more like the real John. That may be apocryphal, however….), they did all of the songs, between-song patter and stage moves exactly as-was throughout the Fabs career. Good fun and faultless.

The Rezillos – what can you say? I’ve seen them more times than anyone (apart from The Fall, maybe) and they never disappoint; energy, élan, surrealist pop art and songs about aliens. Perfect.

Craig Charles closed out the opening night with a DJ set drawn from his excellent Saturday night funk and soul show on 6Music. I personally love all of this stuff, the rare groove, disco and funky stuff and despite the fact that I’d have personally had the out-front volume up A WHOLE LOT MORE, this was a party from start to finish. Chatting backstage (I know, I know) about his “trunk of punk” section on his daytime show was good fun (he’s a lovely fella) and he had me grinning with his tales of Aaron Neville whose Hercules is a mainstay of his set.

Saturday saw the day open, albeit a little bleary-eyed with local lads The White Line, whose take on the modernist scene drew a good crowd. With total confidence oozing and eyeballing the front row, they shook the place awake. Great little wah solo in the last song, too.

Sleeper took a little while to get into their groove but their goodtime Britpop tunes went down well in the main arena. Again, an unenviable early slot which they managed to use to their advantage given the sunny weather. Death Of Guitar Pop should be huge, quite frankly. I have no idea why these guys aren’t much bigger profile than they are. Simply superb.

From The Jam did what they do and the people loved it; smashing the main stage with a set of Jam standards (and a few of the less likely tracks – But I’m Different Now was incredible), the love for Bruce Foxton et al was palpable. Both he and frontman Russell Hastings have had pretty serious health issues in recent years and it was great to hear them and see them joking about their experiences.

Ash, whom I’ve seen and loved many, many times over the years were somewhat moribund today; I’m not entirely sure why or what was the issue, but they seemed to be phoning it in. Hopefully a one-off aberration.

Not so, the mighty Stranglers. A good friend of mine who’s seen them more times than he cares to admit always says that live, The Stranglers are a total machine; he’s not wrong. From the opening Toiler on the Sea through the quirky Nuclear Device to the closing No More Heroes, this was a lesson in power and sheer muscular musicality. They were the first “real” band I ever saw as a teeny punk back in Glasgow in ‘77 and they never disappoint. Incredible.

Sunday saw a few call-offs due to covid (Department S being one of them) and a good few folk from the campsite had headed back home, presumably working the Monday. Nevertheless, Geno Washington took the prize for performance of the weekend. Shuffling onstage, bow-backed and frail-looking (he’s 78 I think), he looked as if a good breeze would knock him off his feet. That, however, was until he opened his mouth and sang – good lord, what a voice this man still possesses. Sheer power and soul personified – he held the crowd in his hand with his hugely entertaining stories and as I say, when he opens his throat, angels and devils collide. His band were a simple three-piece but they sounded like an orchestra at times. See him if you can, he’s the best.

Toyah had already wowed the Rebellion crowd the day before and did so again in Durham; she’s a performer, I’ll say that for her and her pint-sized but huge personality won the day. Great hair, too, according to the wife….

Peter Hook And The Light struggled initially with both technical problems and a stage bathed in bright sunlight, which isn’t particularly conducive to the songs of Joy Division. Manfully powering on, the mighty Shadowplay and Monaco song What Do You Want From Me”won them some new fans. Loved the camo shorts and t-shirt combo, Hooky….

The Neville Staples Band blew the roof off; he’s another frontman that’s had health issues and he looked quite frail walking onstage; no worries, his super-skanking band and partner Sugary Staples bounced around the stage as Rude Boy Number One took command. The crowd love this guy; the call and response stuff was a joy to watch.

Closing out the festival were The Boomtown Rats which was a bit of a coup for Stone Valley; Geldof and co were on sparkling form and the opening Trash Glam Baby from the recent album set the tone nicely. They don’t simply play the hits (although they’re all present and correct) and the newer songs sit well among the chart-botherers. Geldof doesn’t give a fuck, anyway; he’s embroiled in the music from minute one and is a lanky pile of sweaty hair by the end. As Bob would put it, “Mega…”

In essence, Stone Valley is terrific – I’ll certainly be back next time. If you miss The Wickerman and other smaller boutique festivals, you’ll love this. Give it a go.

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All words by Joe Whyte, you can find his LTW archive here

Photos by Paul Buxton

Source: louderthanwar.com