Welly: not just Big In The Suburbs
“Pop has been gentrified. // I, Welly, and my gorgeous band, are the cure. // This is proper, spit-and-sawdust, chalk-and-cheese, salt-and-vinegar Pop.” (Spotify)
I can’t tell if the gig season kicked off later than usual this autumn/ winter, or if I just haven’t made enough time to check out live music as often as I would like. Nevertheless, I’d had this gig for Welly at the Parish Dive Bar in the diary for weeks. So, on a random Saturday at the end of November, I dragged my flatmate with me on a train to Huddersfield to go and check this band out.
Welly (aka Elliot) is a self-proclaimed “suburban smart-arse” and frontman of an energetic britpop slash indie rock band from Southampton. Probably the best way I and seemingly Elliot (from my research stalking their X account) could describe the band is if the Zero Zombies from Horrid Henry grew up and sang about the frustrations of modern-day suburbia. Their music exudes the irony of current British culture (”Unpack your morals // For Jack Kerouacs novels”, ‘Soak Up The Culture’) and this humour is also translated over onto their digital footprint (”Fuck your sunburnt relic ‘59 telecaster // I want the Mr Blobby Bass”, X). I can’t quite remember how I first came across this band, however I am very glad that their song ‘Shopping’ managed to find its way onto my playlist. If you’re into the likes of Homes Counties, Flat Party or FEET, then this is definitely a band to delve into the discography of.
When we arrived at the venue, we were immediately greeted with retro film and music posters, fruit machines, and pool tables. I felt right at home. Pint in hand, we watched the opening band, Rushbonds, a band based in Leeds with a few shows under their belt already. With their experimental indie/ jazz-fusion melodies and soulful lyrics, it was difficult to not fall immediately in love with their music. After their set, we spoke to them briefly and took some photos for them. Definitely another band to look out for!
On our journey through Huddersfield from the train station to the Parish Dive Bar, we’d kept running into the same group of people. When we were ordering at the bar of the venue, we saw them again and assumed it was just coincidence. It was only when we saw them take to the stage dressed in hilariously nostalgic iterations of primary school uniforms that we realised we’d accidentally been running into Welly and his band the entire evening.
Welly started off his set with an enthusiastic introduction of his band members (Joe and Matt on guitars, Jacob on bass, and Hanna on percussion / synthesisers), followed by the currently unreleased track, ‘It’s Not Like This In France’, that featured the odd lyric in French (as a French student, I was very happy). The banter between songs with the audience was consistent and strong, and Elliot somehow managed to make audience participation not awkward or cringe at all. Some highlights were the demonstration by Joe of the difference between a canter and a trot, congratulating Hanna on her Grade 2 cowbell exam, and nearly getting knocked over by Jacob doing an Angus Young impression in the crowd mid-song. I was quite surprised when they played their most streamed song, ‘Shopping’, quite early on into the set. No complaints from me however, as it was one of my favourite songs by them prior to this performance. Fortunately, Welly didn’t let the energy plateau after that, continuing to deliver song after song that you just couldn’t help but jump around to. Their latest released single, ‘Big In The Suburbs’, was another hit with the crowd, with its driving guitar riffs and witty lyricism. For their final song, ‘Me and Your Mates’, the atmosphere was electrifying, with the whole crowd, Rushbonds included, in a mini mosh pit.
One of the great things about going to these smaller gigs is that you feel a strong sense of community. All the bands stick around to support each other, and you get the impression that everyone is just really happy to be there and to be playing their music to an audience. This gig highlighted the importance of supporting local grassroots music venues; going to shows of perhaps lesser known artists is vital to their survival, as well as a great way to discover new music. Although the crowd was small, I can safely say that this was one of the best gigs I’ve been to in a while. Dancing with the support band, laughing at Welly’s antics, and exchanging banter made the whole experience one to remember. The connection between the band and the audience was unmistakably intimate and real. After the show, I talked to Elliot about what it means to him to be playing these types of shows:
“A lot of small music venues are closing and I think a lot of the bands are quite dire, quite dour, and quite sort of impersonal to the people that are coming to the shows. We try and put a show on that, when we come to these places, it’s a laugh, it’s a reason to spend £7, it’s a reason to try and come to these small venues, which are dying at a rate of knots. I think music has to change if the venues are gonna change.”
I think this ethos shone through in their performance. Although my flatmate didn’t really know much about Welly when I persuaded her to come with me, we both had such an amazing night; an electric evening at a venue that perfectly captured the spirit of small music venues. Watching a band like them play was a reminder of why I love live music: it’s an atmosphere you just can’t recreate anywhere else. I think Welly’s appeal is really quite universal, and I’m extremely jealous of all the people that were able to attend their last gig of the tour in Hackney on the 4th of December – it looked amazing!
Words by Anya Fernihough
