Friday 9th June 2023
On May 26th 2001, I attended my first-ever gig. Ozzfest 2001. Milton Keynes Bowl. A lineup that boasted Slipknot, Papa Roach and Black Sabbath. Other luminaries such as HED (PE) and Raging Speedhorn have perhaps been forgotten due to the sands of time but they were all equal in my mind. A month later I returned to Milton Keynes (a sentence nobody wants to say aloud) for AC/DC, The Offspring and Queens of the Stone Age. From that moment on I was hooked. In November of that year, I saw Muse play Doncaster Dome. I never looked back. I was 14 years old in 2001. I’ve spent the rest of my life trying to recapture the rapture I felt watching those early formative gigs. Until now, I’ve only managed to bottle that feeling a handful of times. Step forward, Samuel Thomas Fender…
Despite having the best intentions, we inevitably miss the main support band Inhaler because we wisely decided that having another pint at the glorious Wylam Brewery was critical. Arena shows can be tricky to navigate. I also arrived late to Bruce Springsteen in Dublin a few weeks ago and paid a heavy price. On this occasion, everything runs pretty smoothly. St. James’ Park is quite the setting for a homecoming gig. At times, the evening feels more like a Newcastle United home game than a rock show. Rather than feeling exclusionary, however, the sea of black and white actually ensures everyone feels part of something. There is a togetherness in Newcastle, a unity, that is rarely felt at any gig.
Sam Fender takes the stage wearing a vintage ’90s tracksuit (made famous by Kevin Keegan) to the stirring sound of the Champions League theme ringing throughout the stadium. You can almost hear the collective intake of breath as the crowd brace themselves for the opener. ‘Will We Talk?’. Fuck. This is real. Every Geordie and honourary Geordie in St. James’ Park goes apeshit. Sam sounds incredible. The band sound incredible. Johnny Bluehat has a hat on. All is right with the world. ‘Getting Started’ follows and the crowd sings together as one as the chorus swells and echoes around the cavernous stadium. It is already clear that we are about to witness something special.
‘Dead Boys’ is the song that put Fender on the map and as a man who has attended way too many friends’ funerals, there is no denying the song’s visceral power. Sam looks emotionally drained by the end and as I look around it is clear how much of an emotional pull this song has. You can see it in people’s eyes. Each face tells a story of loss and grief, but together, on this night, in this stadium, there is also hope.
Sam’s older brother Liam is a recording artist in his own right and he is a welcome addition to the band for a cover of Springsteen’s ‘I’m On Fire’. Sam Fender. Covering Bruce Springsteen. In front of my stupid face. What a world. Fender has been styled as the North Shields Springsteen and he recently supported the boss in Italy which only adds more gravitas to what is a wonderful moment.
The punchy one-two of ‘Spice’ and ‘Howdon Aldi Death Queue’ provide the evening most rock ‘n’ roll tracks and a short break to sort out some technical difficulties allows the crowd to come up for air. On that note, while Sam makes a number of references to said problems, this never translates to a noticeable sound issue. He sounds pristine all night. As does the band.
From there it’s all gold. ‘Get You Down’ is treated like the iconic song it has now become, ‘Alright’ is the great lost Sam Fender single and ‘Play God’ feels like a moment. The latter song gives Fender an opportunity to demonstrate his stunning vocal abilities. The kid can sing.
And now, to ‘Spit of You’. A song about fatherhood. I lost my dad to lung cancer and as images of Sam as a kid playing with his dad flash upon the screen I am taken back to those first gigs I ever attended back in 2001. That feeling when you are utterly lost in the music. Everything else is gone. I’ve been chasing that feeling for over twenty years. For four minutes or so on a balmy summer night in Newcastle, as Sam Fender sings about his own relationship with his dad, I am a kid again. Goosebumps. Tears. A memory to cherish. I miss you, Dad.
Pindrop silence follows as ‘The Dying Light’ closes out the first part of the set. This is a song that deserves to be ringing out across stadiums across the world. There is a real feeling of this being a ‘I was there moment’. Spike Island. Knebworth. And now, St James’ Park. Excuse the hyperbole. I can’t help it.
The band return to the stage to rapturous applause for a gorgeous rendition of ‘Wild Grey Ocean’ before ‘Saturday’ provides the biggest singalong of the night. It’s a simple song. The best songs usually are. I want to hold your hand. A wop bop a loo bop a lop bom bom. Music needn’t be complicated.
Everyone knows what’s coming next but it’s still butterflies in the stomach time for the opening chords of ‘Seventeen Going Under’. BUT I WOULD HIT HIM IN A HEARTBEAT NOW. You could probably hear that line all the way down at the Low Lights Tavern. Massive.
One song remains. The crowd start singing it before Sam even gets the chance. ‘Hypersonic Missiles’ is a massive song. An anthem. A classic. And as the final refrain rings out across St. James’ Park, as confetti cannons boom and great balls of fire (literally) shoot out from the stage, there is a feeling. Everyone in attendance feels it. We have all witnessed something special. Really special. And for two hours I got to fall in love with live music all over again. Quite simply one of the best rock shows I have ever seen. Drink it in. You don’t get nights like these very often.