It’s been a whole year since we first witnessed Millie Manders live. Back then, the band were a support act at Dogfest in Boston, and we were blown away with the energy of the live performance.
Since then, I have become quite taken with the vibrant four-piece. Almost every song from their back catalogue is on my running playlist, and when I want to let of anger, shout loud and sing proud, I usually turn to tracks such as Bitter or Bacchus. When I want something to get my feet moving, Right to Life always has me covered.
In the year that has passed, I’ve tried to see the band twice, and twice failed. The first time was in Nottingham, but a double booking, through no fault of my own, meant a late cancellation. Then, for a Sheffield gig, I bought tickets, only for my car to break down a couple of days before.
That meant 365 days, give or take, had passed between me discovering the band and finally getting to see them live. It was our first journey to Wroot, and by ‘we’ I mean myself and my trusty gig-going companions Dave and Chris. We have similar tastes, which mainly derive from support acts we’ve seen and adopted as our favourite bands.
I’ll unpack two bits from that before I move on. Firstly, our recent music odyssey really starts with a trip to see the Levellers in 2016, supported by Ferocious Dog and Gaz Brookfield. I went with another mate, Pete, and loved the support. I introduced Dave to Ferocious Dog, and then it spread to Chris. We’ve seen Black Water County support FD and then saw their headline show. We’ve seen MMATSU support FD, and now a headline show. We’ve seen a Gaz Brookfield headline as well – much of it leads back to Ferocious Dog, and then the Levellers. FD are on our calendar this year, but there’s just as much MMATSU on there as well.
On to Wroot. I’ve heard about Wroot Rocks, a little venue that has a big reputation for alterative music and up-and-coming bands, but I couldn’t for a second imagine what that might actually look like. It took us a little over an hour to drive from Wragby to the venue, but it felt like we’d been on the road for days. As two single-lane tracks eventually brought us into the village, we felt like we’d dropped off the edge of the world. That feeling grew as we went into the venue, no more than a village hall. It’s not your normal village hall, though. It fizzes with energy, driven by a hardy bunch of staff eager to ensure they keep their reputation for good music in a welcoming environment. Music aside, when we finally left, we felt like we’d just become part of a real family.
That’s how music should be. Live music should bring people together and make you feel something as a collective, whether that is anger, joy, love or laughter. The support act, Voodoo Radio, ticked the latter box. The Barrow-based two-piece consists of daughter Paige and father, Tony. Paige gives off a Shampoo/Ting Tings vibe, whilst Tony hides behind a hat and long hair, bashing out catchy melodies. They’ve got a great double act, a bickering, bantering father/daughter dynamic that works incredibly well.
Paige is an impressive figurehead, the lead singer and drummer, bouncing around the drumkit with a smile on her face, and their songs pack a lot of punch live. I’m not sure there’s such a genre as bubblegum punk, but the live show certainly had elements that felt like that. My favourite tracks were Ice Cream Man, with a bit of crowd interaction, and The Slag Bank, which is not based on the sort of subject manner you might imagine.
Once upon a time, I used to skip the support, thinking that I paid for the main act and wasn’t really bothered. I wonder what I might have missed, and had we arrived late and missed Voodoo Radio, we’d have been deprived of a support that was uplifting and fun, but with a razor-sharp knife edge. If you happen to be at a festival over the summer, and they’re lurking on the undercard, make sure you check them out as they’re not your run-of-the-mill two-bob punk outfit.
There wasn’t much of a break between the support and main act – just enough time to buy a t-shirt from Millie Manders herself. I find it almost exciting going to gigs where the main act is on the merch stand; we’ve seen it with Black Water County and Gaz Brookfield over the last year or two as well. I make sure I buy merch from the gigs, always, because I understand income from that helps these independent artists keep doing what they do. I don’t want sanitised, £70 tickets to see an old Britpop band squeezing life out of the same old hits they played 20 years ago – I want live music that matters, that’s fresh and that the artist believes in. I want music that makes me feel something, that makes the artist feel something. Millie Manders and The Shutup feel their music, there’s no doubt about that.
I’m not a gig reviewer. I don’t write these articles because I get paid. I write them for two reasons. The first is I hope other people read them and think ‘I’ll check that band out’, helping to keep them going. Honesty shout now; the second reason I write them is because I want the bands to read them. Not because I’m such a sad fanboy I want attention, but because I want them to know their music is hitting the mark, it is influencing and impacting people, digging under the skin of the mass-produced bullshit we have rammed down our throats these days. Real music is alive and well, and you don’t even have to look too hard to find it. I like to think that maybe, the odd few words from me helps the bands realise how important thay are, even reaching into the wilds of the Lincolnshire Wolds.
What are MMATSU? Punk? Pop-punk? Ska-punk? Rock? Metal? Sometimes, it’s hard to tell. They’re got a bit of everything in their set, and that’s why it is such a ride from the very start. From Here We Go Again to Bacchus, two of the opening tracks, there’s an energy that jumps out of the stage and grabs you. It is easy to say it comes from the enchanting Millie, but the whole band create the stage upon which she comes alive. They’re a tight band, James, Pete and Georgina playing with smiles on their faces and that lulls you into a false sense of security, in a good way. Millie could certainly be deemed the star of the show, but without the others, there’s no show for her to steal.
However, once they lay down the beats, bass and melody, her magnificent vocal range and vivacious, frantic persona make the live act what it is. I told her after the show I felt she was both enchanting and terrifying in equal measure, and I stand by that. When she’s angry in a song, there’s a look in her eye that underlines how much she believes in her message. However, that anger isn’t something that becomes the sole focus – this isn’t just a shouty band full of angst.
They’re huge fun in places, fast-paced, knees-up ska dripping with vivacity, such as during Right to Life. They can be reflective and pensive, as with Glitter Mix, or self-affirming in Rebound. Millie tells tales of everyday life, delivering a liberal left message without pulling punches. There’s a confidence to her delivery, a stoic belief in every single word she sings, from the very top of her extensive vocal range to the guttural growls at the bottom. Perhaps this is exemplified as well as anything in one of the tracks from the new double A-side, Can I Get Off, with lyrics that tread on toes in an unashamed manner.
Calling out my brothers / Calling out the boys in bands / Saying you’re liberal left / But you’re cowards where you stand / Scared to lose your following / Scared to say what’s right / But you’ll shout out hate for Tories / On your stages every night
As the set wore on, it struck me that there was no filler with MMATSU. I should know that, I have a playlist for running which I’m sure will put me in the top five percent of listeners when Spotify do that review thing at the end of the year. However, even live, there’s no songs that offer you the chance to grab a quick drink or take a loo break. Every single one is powerful, individual and delivered with absolute conviction. There’s no encore, as Millie says, ‘it wastes everyone’s time’, so instead, they play three final songs before leaving the stage.
The last of those songs was ‘Your Story’, where the crowd are told Millie, and by proxy the band, want a part in our story. I’m sure the intention behind the track is not to address the crowd but some lost love, but that’s not how it feels. MMATSU have a place in my story over the last 12 months, from missed gigs to helping me get through 10k training, even getting anger out during Bitter, screaming I wish I could say I wish you well /but I still hope you burn in hell.
That’s why the final song felt like it was addressed to me, with the band asking to be a part of what I am, and what those who also attended the gig are. There’s no doubt they are that. We’ll see them again, perhaps on May 18th at the Ferocious Dog AGM at Rock City, and absolutely 100% at Badlands Punk Festival in Lincoln. They’re playing Gig in a Field 6 at Wroot in August, another we’ll probably go to, which proves that they are a part of our story, past and future.
If you get a chance, make them a part of yours.
THE 40 SOMETHING GAMER 