MANCHESTER PUNK FESTIVAL 2024
@ MANCHESTER (UK)
MARCH 29-31, 2024
When Easter weekend rolls around, it means only one thing in my home town of Manchester – the punks are coming. Now in its ninth year of existence, the Manchester Punk Festival is a three-day extravaganza of punk music split across several venues in the city’s bustling Oxford Road corridor, encompassing all types of punk from hardcore to ska, as well as having thriving comedy and poetry stages.
The festival began for me this year at the festival’s main hub, The Union, watching the never-knowingly categorizable Bobby Funk. The band are veterans of the festival, having appeared several times before in the past, and, coupled with their strong local following, this made them a fantastic way to set off the festival. The energy of the set belied their 3 p.m. start time, as their idiosyncratic, occasionally abstract songs bounced through the crowd (along with several inflatable beach balls!) with great aplomb, particularly on crowd-pleaser “I’m A Cat”, a song as bizarre as it sounds by its title.
Following a short breather, Zatopeks were next on the list, and they brought some impressive musicality behind a rock-solid powerful rhythm section, leading the crowd in multiple sing-a-longs, as well as keeping the same energy that already existed in the room. Both Bobby Funk and Zatopeks cultivated a tremendous atmosphere in the room, showing the stage presence of true veterans to draw the crowd into their sets.
Following the end of Zatopeks’ set, I, along with seemingly half of Manchester, decamped to the Bread Shed for Meryl Streek, and I’m glad I did. There’s some serious buzz surrounding Streek, and there’s no better evidence of that than having to jam into the normally quite-spacious room just to be able to hear the set. No one left disappointed, as they produced an incredible, incendiary set which blew the roof off. It’s difficult to quantify what Meryl Streek’s music is, as it blends dance beats, samples, razor-sharp spoken word rants, and synths with angry punk bass and guitar, all done with the speed and indifference of a food mixer. Regardless, it was one of the highlights of the weekend, and exemplified the punk spirit more than a thousand bands playing root notes and shouting ever could. The performance and Streek’s music sticks in the brain long after the live set finishes.
Following Streek was no easy task, but Nosebleed, the Leeds-based garage rockers, were more than up for the challenge, at least partially because they didn’t seem to care about living up to anyone. Their set was snotty, loud, and very, very, very good. Not many Yorkshiremen could have spun a Friday night in rival city Manchester into hundreds of people joining them in party, but they did. Clearly well-schooled at being a live act, the band threw everything they had into their time on stage, throwing petrol on the already-volcanic atmosphere.
By the time ska-punk luminaries The Bar Stool Preachers took to the stage, everyone seemed ready to party. Lucky, then, that The Bar Stool Preachers not only know how to party, being chock-full of anthemic danceable numbers, but exercise such control over a crowd that if we had been told to invade the remaining areas of Manchester, we probably would’ve done it. One of the bigger names at the festival this year, they justified the hype and their reputation with ease, with several hoarse voices in the crowd at the end of their set, having sung along with every note.
Illness unfortunately wiped out the second day, but Till I’m Bones opened the final day, again at the Union, with some tremendously bouncy and noisy surf-inspired punk. Another band with big buzz around them going into the weekend, they ate up the larger room and audience with aplomb and left everyone in a happier place.
The relaxed, dancing vibe continued with the band next up, Dakka Skanks. Another difficult to characterise band, the Skanks blended reggae, dub, and loud ska-punk to create an interesting and intriguing sound that was one of my highlights of the festival. Credit must certainly go to lead singer Clara Byrne, who’s vocal was top-notch, particularly as she had to cut through the power of the rhythm section behind her, who were on fire throughout.
Just as things were looking all calm, inclusive, and dare I say it, loving, enter Pizzatramp, the only band I went to see on recommendation other than my own all weekend. I’ll certainly be listening to that friend more closely in future, as Pizzatramp was the spirit of punk undiluted. Full of attitude, humour, and thrashing power throughout, the crowd adored them as much as they hated the very idea of being loved. It’d be remiss not to mention lead singer Jimbob’s crowd banter too, as between the slight Welsh lilt and complete disregard for social norms, he could make a killing as a stand-up comic.
Perhaps suffering from having to follow the aforementioned atomic bomb, Riskee and The Ridicule took a little while to get going in their set, but soon found their feet, playing catchy hardcore punk at a volume capable of stripping paint from the walls. They built their set slowly but reached a fantastic crescendo by the end to keep the party going.
Speaking of party, there aren’t many better bands to get for a party than King Prawn. They were fantastic, amazing, spectacular, and more importantly, fun – the entire room was dancing and singing constantly, including this reporter. My only complaint would be that they caused me to break the chair I was sitting on from dancing so enthusiastically! A truly fantastic set by veterans of the genre, and up there as one of the best and most memorable of the weekend.
Finally, it was over to Random Hand to close things out, and they didn’t disappoint. Despite openly admitting to nerves and anxiety about the large room and placing on the bill, they couldn’t have done a better job of closing the party, playing expansive, powerful tunes all the way through, and excoriating the crowd into dancing (with bribes of a Crème Egg for each audience member) – not that they needed to be encouraged. Random Hand have worked their way through both lineups and venues at the festival in previous years, and they deserved, and fully took, their moment in the spotlight.
Overall, Manchester Punk Festival was once again a well-attended, lively festival, really exemplifying the best and most upcoming of the punk scene, but also just generally being a friendly, nice, and fun festival that always feels inclusive and welcoming. Two thumbs up and see you next year!
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