“One small step for scousers,” begins Liverpudlian singer-songwriter Zuzu, wonderfully, to be met by a wall of cheering. The bespectacled, PVC-trousered Liverpudlian probably didn’t expect to walk out to such a rapturous reception after only a few singles, but this is no ordinary show. It’s been billed as the first “near-normal” mass gig to take place since the start of the pandemic. With 5,000 people in a tent, no compulsory masks and social distancing, and a mini-festival feel, the triple biller is an opportunity for the Covid-19-tested audience to – as promoter Melvin Benn puts it – “go for it as if coronavirus never happened”.
After a year of Covid-19, everyone does just that. It initially feels surreal to be in such a huge crowd of people drinking and jostling, but if this pilot gig proceeds safely it will mark a significant milestone towards bringing live music back. After a year without it, the audience are certainly in party mood, with enormous massed sing-songs to old disco and Britpop hits breaking out before the bands have even come on. A tuneless covers band playing Status Quo songs backwards would probably go down well here here, but Zuzu – a sort of Merseyside Courtney Barnett – doesn’t dampen spirits with her slacker pop, guitar twangs and witty lyrics. What You Want’s chorus of “This is what we’re supposed to be/Loveless and carefree” captures the celebratory mood.
Wigan’s rising stars the Lathums have been on Later … with Jools Holland and livestreamed a performance from Blackpool Tower, but the pandemic has meant their rapid ascent has mostly been conducted without a live audience until now, and they’re determined to make up for it. Their jangly indie rock anthems reinvent few wheels, but are lapped up by a mostly late teenage audience desperate to holler along. Frontman Alex Moore isn’t the most obvious pop star, with his big overcoat, No. 3 crop and John Lennon spectacles, but he has a really lovely croon and seems to radiate more and more charisma as each song goes down a storm.
By the time headliners Blossoms hit the stage, the atmosphere feels like a cup final. People hug, girlfriends clamber on boyfriend’s shoulders and pint cups hurl golden arcs of beer. “This will be the best night out for a very long time,” yells frontman Tom Ogden, and proves as good as his word. The Stockport quintet have spent the last six years transforming from scaffold-yard-rehearsing-indie-psychedelic-guitar types into a big, bouncy, keyboard-heavy pop group with two No 1 albums. With their extra percussionists, velvet suits, arrestable trousers and enough hair to stuff a three-piece suite, they’re now an improbable but effervescent mix of late Talking Heads, Abba and A-ha.
Their songs have just the right mix of melancholy and euphoria to make them perfect for this occasion. Honey Sweet, The Keeper, There’s a Reason Why (I Never Return Your Calls) and Oh No (I Think I’m in Love) are greeted with massed, arms-swaying singsongs. They cover the Beatles’ Paperback Writer and throw in a burst of New Order’s Blue Monday. There’s a briefly more poignant moment as Ogden introduces an acoustic My Favourite Room referring to the “devastation” caused by Covid, but it’s soon back to the party vibe. There’s palpable emotion as people remember the unique thrill of loud, live music, relish a few hours of freedom and – if this experiment proves successful – take those tantalising first steps into a post-Covid music world.
