Stereophonics - Verso Media

Gig Review: Stereophonics, The Blossoms and Jake Bugg – Sandringham

Hammy was on driving duty again – for which I’m always grateful – with daughter Gabs and her boyfriend Jude in tow. The plan seemed simple enough, but Norfolk had other ideas. The last eight miles took three and a half hours. Good job we’d stocked up on a KFC bucket and had a decent playlist to keep spirits up.

We were meeting my sister Tamara there. Originally, it was meant to be a neat little pre-arranged drop-off. Instead, she went rogue, drove herself, and ended up three miles away. Add to that a total lack of phone signal – unless, of course, it was the card machine wanting to rinse us for another £7 pint or £14 burger – and communication was near impossible.

From the Purple Zone car park to the Red Zone where Tamara had landed was a three-mile trek. I eventually tracked her down, as Hammy, Gabs, and Jude had already gone in.

Jake Bugg was missed thanks to the traffic – no tears shed, as he’d been dire supporting Liam Gallagher and John Squire last year. Blossoms were on as I stomped around the estate on the great sibling hunt, but I only caught scraps of their set drifting over the trees. I finally found Tamara minutes before she gave up and decided to drive home.

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The stewards then confiscated her 75p can of Rio, forcing her to pay £4 for the exact same tin inside. That about summed the place up. We went on the hunt for the Hammonds but found no sign. By this point, my dislike of crowds (people) and the layout was grinding me down. We staked out a spot by a tree near the back. I dispatched Tamara for beers and, by sheer good fortune, Gabs walked past. A quick shout, a quick regroup, and finally, we were all together again. There was a strong Felixstowe contingent at the venue but only saw Jaime Cryer for a catch up. Which was nice.

Then the Stereophonics came on – and they were superb. Kelly Jones still has that rasp that cuts through any night sky, and the band were tight, rolling through a set that reminded everyone why they remain one of Britain’s best live acts.

Shame about everything else. The roads were horrendous, the staff veered from clueless to occasionally friendly, and the site itself felt more like a mid-90s funfair than a proper music venue, only thing missing was the goldfish in a plastic bag. But that’s it for me at this venue. Once was enough. I won’t be rushing back to Sandringham.

Still, I doubt the King and his tribe face these issues when they roll up for a weekend’s entertainment – though their idea of fun is murdering defenceless animals rather than singing along to Dakota. Oh and call me a cynic but out of all three Heritage sites I’ve visited this year (Audley End, Englefield Estate and Sandringham) the only one you can take your own food into is the one not owned by a Tory or Royal!