#Review: Blondie and Sting Shine: Unforgettable Night of Music at Lytham Festival

For personal reasons, the last gig I attended was Jarv Is at Invisible Wind Factory, Liverpool on 5th November 2021. Shitter, innit!

I have spent my life going to gigs, and this enforced and extended break has been tough to take. I have been living vicariously through my team of writers here at The Broken Spine, fixing it for them to see several of my heroes: Bob Dylan, Diana Ross, Leo Sayer, and many more besides. Despite all of this, I knew one day I would get back out to see something, to see somebody, somewhere.

And last night, despite some last-minute challenges, I managed to get out to Lytham Festival, and boy was it worth it!

Lytham Festival is establishing itself as one of the key music festivals in the UK. Indeed, last year there were ten nights on the grass with appearances from esteemed artists such as Nile Rodgers & Chic, Duran Duran, and The Strokes. This year, the event may have been somewhat truncated, but the star power remained.

Keeping It in the Family

On the third day of the festival, we had Joe Sumner (whose name might give something away about the headline act), Aussie sisters and rock trio – Germaine, indie rock stars Kaiser Chiefs, New York giants Blondie, and the living legend, the sublime Sting.

A friend sent me a weather report as we were en route: “pissing down and everybody’s brollies are inside out.” It wasn’t stopping us!

The show started at 16:45 with Joe Sumner (if you hadn’t worked it out yet – he’s Sting’s son). As is customary, the venue was not yet at capacity throughout his time on stage, but this set was a fine start to the afternoon. I spent the time wandering about, checking out the bars, and finding a good spot to root myself for the remainder. I’ll be exploring more of Sumner’s work, becoming more familiar with it as a result. He has singer-songwriter stylings, and there are echoes of his dad there, which is not surprising. I don’t think he’s going to set the world alight, but he’s a talented boy with a good voice.

Maintaining the family theme, although not related to Sting and Joe Sumner, next up, at around 17:30 came the Aussie trio Germaine. These three sisters, Georgia, Ella, and Clara, who formed on their family farm in South Australia, had so much energy and stage presence beyond their years. Leaping about like salmon, they were joined on stage by fans clad in inflatable koala costumes and doubled down on their Australian-ness throughout their short set. The crowd was ‘stoked’ to hear “Good for a Girl” – anthemic!

Typical Festival Fodder from Indie Rock Kings – Kaiser Chiefs

I used to love playing football in the rain. An accident at work put an end to my enjoyment of that. Sliding about in shorts and covered in sweat was a real thrill in the playing fields of Southport. One that I now attest has been totally replaced by watching good music in sideways rainstorms. Ricky Wilson wasn’t put off, and neither were the growing crowds. ‘The grass needs it,’ he delightedly told us.

Beginning their setlist with a Freddie Mercury-style ‘Ay-Oh’ (he doesn’t have the voice for this – and he knows it – everything was done with a wry smile). Surely, though, Wilson was up for this! Their stage time was peppered with festival bangers (they’re a thing, right?) – a litany of hits that included “Modern Way,” “Every Day I Love You Less and Less,” “Ruby,” and “I Predict a Riot.” Although my favorite, “Love’s Not a Competition,” didn’t make the cut, which was a small downer for me during an otherwise uplifting set. Some new tunes were dropped in, once we were forewarned, while another came as a surprise. No matter, they both lit the place up, especially “How 2 Dance.” Wilson was snaking his hips at this point, ala Axl Rose. A nice surprise was their cover of the classic rock track “Pinball Wizard.” Far from an imaginative cover, but a crowd-pleaser nonetheless. Knowing their audience well, the band ended with “The Angry Mob.” At this point, it seemed they could have stirred up a revolution. I was never convinced by the band before, but today I’m delighted to have seen them. Sometimes music can take itself a bit too seriously, but they found their place on this bill. Good booking has to be admired.

Blondie Still Has It and Detractors Need to Shut the Fuck Up

Never mind what was said about the Glastonbury performance (TV recordings of live performances are notoriously bad). I remember how I was worried that her voice had gone back in the nineties when “Maria” was released. I was at school then. I believed what I read and didn’t form my own opinions. My word, I even listened to Oasis, imagine? But I’m a grown-up now, who eats green olives and knows his own mind. Blondie, and Debbie Harry in particular, still have it. I may be biased because, you see, for her whole set, I’m convinced she was singing just for me. No, not convinced, I know she was. It wouldn’t have mattered if nobody else was there; she would have put on that show, and I would have lapped it up just the same.

The band opened with “One Way or Another,” a song that could have easily ended the show (and one I first heard live at Move Festival in Manchester when Shed Seven covered it). This is how you start a set, with a banger. Then you take it up a notch, “Hanging on the Telephone” did just that. Then things got a little murky and confusing because, when you have a back catalogue as strong as theirs, where do you go? It was just hit after hit! Hearing “Atomic” played live so early baffled me when it hit, but what followed made this cease to matter.

Harry’s banter between songs was impeccable. She is as much a sex bomb as a septuagenarian today as she was in her heyday – back when my dad and many others had a bit of a thing for her. I mention this not because of my male gaze but because Harry plays up to this. It’s an important part of her shtick. And she had me, hook, line, and sinker! Harry’s musings, as sexual in nature as they might be, are far from submissive. She’s in charge and all-powerful, and thankfully, considering her age, progressive. “Maria” was introduced as an anthem for “anybody who wants to be a girl.” Could I have loved her any more? I don’t think so!

The band, who had infused the music with a rougher rock sound than the recorded versions you’ll all be familiar with, included Glen Matlock. I imagine even he was pinching himself. Although he did not seem to get the memo about the band wearing hot pink and black, his regal purple shirt might have been a compromise. His bass playing was masterful, or “in the pocket” to use common muso parlance. Lead guitarist Tommy Kessler was integral to the reinventions, as minimal as they were, of the tracks. He is a fine guitarist, for sure!

The set ended with “Heart of Glass,” complete with compelling visuals of a glass heart shattering on the big screen behind the band. But really, who could take their eyes off Harry? Once again, the boo-boys can just get in the bin. Yeah, she’s 78, and sometimes you can tell, but for the most part, you can’t, and it just doesn’t matter when she and her band bring it like this!

Oh My God. It’s Sting! The Stinger’s Here!

On Frank Zappa’s live album, “Broadway the Hard Way,” Sting makes a guest appearance. He joins the band on stage to play “Murder by Numbers” and denounces the idea that the song was written by Beelzebub or the horned one, stating, “I wrote the fucking song, alright?” Tonight he played hit after hit from his recent studio album, “My Songs,” leaning very heavily into the new reconstructed arrangements and variations of the songs he wrote.

In my mind, Sting is aloof and sober in character. I don’t know why I have that impression. It’s certainly not fitting with his appearance on “The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer” when he was a very good sport. Still, for some reason, I had always felt that he had a dourness about him. He put this to rest last night. He was grinning from ear to ear, pretty much all night long. Arriving on stage at approximately 21.25 in an ill-fitting, too-tight T-shirt, he burst immediately into “Message in a Bottle” and immediately bowled over the crowd who had waited a long four hours through the wind and rain for the star attraction.

I mentioned at the beginning of this piece that I have spent my life watching live music, until more recent times. The finest display I have ever seen from a band was Bryan Ferry at Liverpool Philharmonic in 2018. That show stood out to me; it was inch-perfect, every musician had their moment in the sun, and it was pure measured pop music. But, and this is a big but, it was a night in a building built for musical performance. Last night, Sting equaled this, at least. His band overcame the weather and lack of acoustics that come with outdoor performance to deliver a special setlist that ran for ninety minutes. No wonder he couldn’t stop smiling. He knew just how good they sounded.

It was wonderful to see him give time to his young band members, and the harmonica player Shane Sager, in particular, deserves special mention. There’s something about a harmonica that I cannot put my finger on, but my, if they were to disappear overnight, wouldn’t the world be a lesser place? Last night wouldn’t have been what it was without Sager.

Sting has a back catalogue that matches anybody who is anybody. He has the luxury of selecting songs that can elevate mood, ramp up pace, and slow things down without losing a single member of his audience. This was evident last night. “Desert Rose” was euphoric, “Fields of Gold” sublime, and The Police hits had everybody in rhapsody. I danced non-stop. We danced non-stop. For a guy who is 71 years old, his voice is astonishing. This performance was simply irresistible from start to finish. I have spoken to people who live locally to the venue this morning who were wary about going to the gig, who could hear him from their lounge and are feeling an enormous amount of regret. Maybe next time eh, suckers!

What a fantastic night! As I left the site and trudged through the muddy, rain-soaked fields, I was already planning my next gig. I don’t know who it will be, where it will be, or when it will be, but I cannot wait to feel that energy, that connection with the music and the crowd once again.

Photo Credit: Jon Rhodes