A stately home, a stellar 90s lineup and a milestone in my Manics gigging career!

The day before this gig, I’d found myself taking part in one of those usually achingly tedious and tooth-clenchingly cringeworthy events: a work ice-breaking session. Surprisingly however, this one turned out to be actually quite thoughtful and interesting. Our task was to show our colleagues an item that had some personal significance and tell its story. In amongst the genuinely fascinating tales of war hero grandparents or artistic accomplishments, there was me, brandishing a packet of three party poppers with the faces of the Manics on them.

I spoke of how my desire to see the Manics live was a huge factor in my decision to move to London nearly 30 years previously. How amazing it had been to see in the Millennium with them, where said poppers had been procured. How my blog post about the gig had led me to participate in a TV programme reminiscing about the Millennium celebrations. And how that gig had been my 10th from the band, which had felt like an important milestone at the time, but I was now on the cusp of an even more significant one, as I was about to see them for the 50th time the following day.

It was earlier in 2025, in the spring, when I realised just how tantalisingly close I was to that milestone. I’d just been to the two gigs at PRYZM, which took my total to 45, and my upcoming four at Shepherd’s Bush and Swansea would take me to 49. The thought of making it to my 50th gig from my favourite band of them all in the same year I turned 50 years old was too good to resist, and I began looking around for another 2025 gig that would fit the bill. When this Heritage Live show was announced, it seemed like the perfect opportunity: an absolutely stellar line up and a celebratory way to make it to my Manics gigging milestone. But the venue was prohibitively difficult to get to on public transport, so I shelved the idea.

Enter my excellent friend Lukasz, he who plied me with beers at Bicep in 2021 and caught Covid with me at Kosheen in 2022. One lunchtime at work as we strolled down to the South Bank to take in the spring sunshine, he announced that he had just bought a car, and encouraged me to come up with ideas for excursions and road trips. Well, said I, how about Saffron Waldon on the 2nd of August?

My offer to pay for the tickets in exchange for his chauffeuring duties was evidently too good to resist, which is how the two of us ended up teetering down the scarily narrow streets of Essex this summer’s day, heading for the majestic grounds of Audley End, and the veritable 90s fest that this gig entailed.

At the time of this gig, my life was in a renewed state of turmoil, and I had only recently returned from an emergency trip to Canada to see my gravely ill mum. I had left her in mid-July still in hospital, but improving beyond all expectations. I knew, though, that given her various serious diagnoses, this was only a temporary reprieve, and I was on permanent high alert for the time when that dreaded phone call would happen again. So a day trip to the wilds of Essex to see my favourite band in the world, in the company of a good friend, was exactly the tonic I needed.

We got to the venue around 3pm and found it very impressive, a big sprawling lawn overlooking the very grand stately home. The Heritage Live concept is an excellent one: a laidback festival atmosphere in the surroundings of a historic, beautiful stately home, with legacy acts commanding a broad appeal and a family-friendly vibe. For those of us a bit too old for the thrills of Glastonbury and its like, these are an excellent way to continue to enjoy the festival experience.

Speaking of the festival experience, the first excitement of the day was braving the portaloos. I believe this was my first time venturing into one of these plastic purgatory boxes since the distant days of Reading and V festivals in the late 90s, and while there was some nostalgic fun to be momentarily reminded of those days, the novelty wore off in a few seconds.

As small planes intermittently soared overhead making their way to and from the nearby airfield, we wandered around the venue. There were some fairground style rides and bumper cars, which we contemplated venturing onto, but ultimately decided we were a bit too old for that kind of excitement. Instead, I got myself a beer in a commemorative plastic cup and we found a spot to sit near the stage. The first round of entertainment was a very loud DJ set from Chris Moyles, but despite his enthusiastic demeanour I felt he mis-stepped completely with his selection of tunes. It was almost entirely comprised of hits from the early 2000s, which was an odd choice when we were about to watch three bands that epitomised the 90s.

The first of which was Ash at 5pm. It was my first time seeing them and I thoroughly enjoyed them. At the time of their debut album in 1996, the fact that they were the first new band of note who were actually younger than me had given my 21 year old self some consternation, and perhaps because of this I had not given them as much attention as I should. I’d always thought of them as being on the poppier side of indie, but their set was raucous and energetic with a punky spirit to their performance that I hadn’t expected. It was particularly wonderful to hear “Shining Light”, my favourite of their songs, and it was a stunning rendition that had me and many others in the crowd holding arms aloft and hollering along.

After their set Lukasz and I took a turn of the venue and filled my beer cup with water to keep us going for the evening before returning to our spot to watch the Charlatans. As the band came onstage I was intrigued to see Tim had reverted to his brunet mop of the 90s and not the terrifying peroxide of recent years, which I’d witnessed up close at their fantastic Brixton Academy gig in 2021. They were in top form, and starting their set with “Weirdo” then straight into “North Country Boy” and “Can’t Get Out Of Bed” was utterly brilliant and quite frankly showing off. “One to Another” was another highlight, which seemed to inhabit the entire park with its roaring, rolling piano motif and completely irresistible rhythm.

I asked Lukasz his opinion of the bands afterwards. I’d prepped him with multiple Manics playlists ahead of the day, but Ash and the Charlatans were completely unknown to him. He said he enjoyed both bands but he found Tim Burgess a little odd, assuming he must have been drunk. I assured him that he was just like that.

There was now one hour until the Manics, a good chunk of which I spent in the queue to the loo, then weaving my way back into the crowd trying to avoid an annoying troupe of intrusively hyperactive dudes dressed as vicars (apart from one who had mysteriously decided that a banana costume was the thing for the day). Then, at 9pm, for presumably the last time in the UK, the pounding “Critical Thinking” remix pulsated through the field.

Given the festival-type situation, the gig opener reverted to “Motorcycle Emptiness” and it was great to have it back at the start. The setlist for this evening was essentially a condensed, hits-heavy version of the main tour setlist, and as such, pretty damn awesome. The crowd were enthusiastic, and while perhaps not quite as acutely keen as you might find at a regular Manics gig, they were filled with a relaxed and happy family-day-out willingness to have a bloody good time.

The only surprise in the setlist was perhaps a less than welcome one, a cover of Blondie’s “Union City Blue”. It was fine but basically, just not a Manics song. I do occasionally grumble at the regular inclusion of covers in the Manics sets, but then, when they decide to perform a song I particularly love, such as “Sweet Child O’ Mine” in 2021, I am thrilled beyond measure. So I can only hope that there was a Blondie-loving Manics fan in attendance who had the time of their life hearing the band play this cover. (And let me once again attempt to manifest a Bowie cover for their upcoming tour. How about “Let’s Dance”, boys?)

Otherwise they were once again on top form, and it was another great gig in their pretty peerless 2025 run. We had “This Is Yesterday” for the acoustic tune, and I got to hear a few songs that I hadn’t made it to the setlists of the gigs I’d attended so far that year, such as the yearning and melancholy “Ocean Spray” and the driving and infectious “Walk Me To The Bridge”.

Other highlights included “La Tristesse Durera” which remained stunning in its 2025 rendition, from the opening singalong to the percussion pummelling close. And the moment when “The Everlasting” transitioned from James solo into the full band version was as ever truly sublime, and something I hope remains in their setlist for the coming tour. “Autumnsong” continued its welcome revival, as did “You Love Us”, and then of course it all ended with “Tolerate”, still such a glorious and surprising way to close their set after all these years of “A Design For Life”. We’d had no confetti during “Design” earlier and I feared we’d have none at the end as well, but happily, the stage exploded in red paper shrapnel and we reached out to catch them while we hollered along to the “ah-oh-oh” ending.

The previous day, after showcasing my gigging history to my work colleagues, my boss had warned me that he’d been to one of the Audley End shows in a previous year, and getting out of the carpark afterwards had been a nightmare, so he’d decided never to go again. His warning was apt, as Lukasz and I sat for nearly an hour waiting for a space to become free for us to drive out of the site. But when you consider that I’ve easily spent a similar amount of time traipsing to the station after a gig at the O2, it barely seemed like a hardship at all to sit in the cosy comfort of the car and chat companionably while waiting for a place to open up.

Overall, the Heritage Live experience was a very positive one. The venue was delightful, well-staffed and picturesque, the sound quality excellent for an outdoors gig, and the atmosphere celebratory, friendly and safe (barring a small number of vicar and banana shaped irritants). I had been keeping an eye out on the line-ups for this years events to see if it might be worth repeating the experience, only to find out that the whole series of concerts has been cancelled, with the organisers citing the rising costs of the saturated festival market and the cash-strapped times we live in causing low ticket sales. This is a big shame, and I hope things improve enough for the events to resume in the very near future.

As for me, when we finally made it back to Lukasz’s apartment for a midnight feast of cheese, crackers and beer, I was just happy to have my 50th Manics gig safely under my belt, and to have spent a fantastic day out, with a fantastic friend, and the greatest band in the world.