Have You Heard Of…?
There’s a feeling I’ve been trying to put into words. It’s not pride or me being smug, it’s something more personal than that. It’s the feeling you get when you ask someone, “So, have you heard of…….” and they think hard, scratch their head and answer “Nope, never heard of them” You get that small window of opportunity to smile a bit and say, “Oh mate, You have to listen to them”
It’s that feeling right there, that ownership.
Not in a gatekeeper “I found them first, no one else is allowed in” kind of way but more like, “this band is mine”. They’ve crawled into my body and taken residence in that corner where music and memories live leaning against a bar sharing a beer. You’re not just a fan, you’re their fan. You run the street team, the PR department and every time someone listens and gets it, it feels like you’ve did a good thing for the world.
In the ‘80s, my band was Therapy?
The noisy Irish Alt – rock trio with a question mark at the end of their name. The question mark gave them an air of uncertainty, but they blasted beautiful noises at my ears and they were all mine. I was the only one in my little Shropshire World who knew about them OR so I thought. I had their “Hats off to the insane” tape, a T Shirt with a scratchy sketch face on it and a car stereo that never had it so good again.
Fast forward to now, and I’ve got another one: There Will Be Fireworks. Scottish and cinematic, truly epic. They have soundtracked the film of my life for the last 2 years, the film that will gladly never get made. I don’t even know how I found them, I think I fell into a Spotify rabbit hole one night or picked them up on a Frightened Rabbit page but that doesn’t matter. What matters is the first time I played them to a mate I got that blank look followed by, “Never heard of them.”
Absolute magic. Mine!
I think this is a universal feeling amongst music lovers. We just want to feel like something belongs to us, something is ours, there’s success in our discovery. Especially when everything else in life feels public, shared, algorithm driven and basically flattened out. Discovering a band no one else knows about is like finding a secret door in your own home, one that takes you to the best crisp box and chocolate stash. Taking that step through it makes you feel clever and brainy.
Now, here’s where it gets interesting, this exact vibe lives in the grassroots festival scene.
I feel very lucky to be part of it, as a performer yes, but also as a fan. You know the kind of festivals I mean right? Not the huge stages and 3 billion watt lighting rigs or backstage areas dripping in VIP wristbands. No! The hand-built, muddy beauties where everyone pitches in, a family of like minded souls at a BBQ with a loud PA system.
These are the places where bands like There Will Be Fireworks (My secret remember?) would fit perfectly, they would if they played festivals of course, they currently release 1 album every 10 years. I’m talking places where you hear someone playing something amazing and you just have to walk up and say, “Where are you from?” They reply with “Oh, we’re from Bradford / Clacton / Stornoway / the bit of Milton Keynes that isn’t a roundabout” and you think “How are you not massive?”
And Taa daaa….They’re now yours.
That sense of ownership and belonging runs through everything at grassroots level. Maybe it’s because a lot of us have been the person dragging a guitar amp across a sodden field in soaked through Converse Chucks, or we’ve been the ones watching and laughing about it.
It’s a scene powered by people who just get it, who get you. People ask if you’ve eaten and they mean it. Who loan you a guitar strap, a tent peg, a stage slot, a bacon roll or an ear (Thanks To John Lindley for the best bacon and cheese roll ever – quite literally saving my life as I played a Friday night in Shrewsbury, a Saturday early afternoon in Hull and a Saturday evening back in Shrewsbury. Who needs sleep when you have John’s bacon rolls)
I’ve lost count of the times someone’s said to me, “Dude, if you like that band, wait ‘til you hear this lot!!!” and hand you (in the old days) a cd or even a scribbled a name on a ripped up beer mat. Then you see that band live and you’re blown away and then it’s you going, “Have you heard of…”
Maybe that’s why the grassroots scene feels more like a family. We’re not here for charts (Although I’d not complain) it’s not the TikTok Views or whatever measure is now or next. We’re here because we love it and because there’s something truly beautiful about seeing someone you know, someone you’ve stood and laughed with or someone who gave you a chair to sit on and made you a brew in a field absolutely blow the roof off a tiny stage with 30 people watching.
Half those people watching if not more are wearing the bands t-shirts. They weren’t bought in a high street store. They were bought off the artist themselves, off a wobbly table or from a suitcase with a quick chat, a laugh and probably a hug.
Grassroots isn’t just where music starts, it’s where continues to reside. Like an angry and noisy pain in the ass neighbour that won’t go away.
If you ever see me at a festival, probably looking awkward and slightly confused about where my hoodie went just ask me, “Heard any good bands lately?” Be prepared and be warned because I’ll lean in and say, “Oh, You ever heard of…??” and we’ll go from there.
I’ve always felt that the best music is the music you share, but only once you’ve had a little time to pretend it was just yours.
