THE MOLOTOVS + CHICANES AND ALIS MACINTYRE, THE SEAGULL THEATRE, LOWESTOFT, 26 OCTOBER 2023.

In my social media posts about this gig, I called it “history in the making”. It wasn’t hyperbole. I was born up the road in the village of Somerleyton, but Lowestoft is in my DNA: I went to school here, was a teenager here and regularly visited family and friends after I moved to London in 1986. I moved back in 2017, but one thing hadn’t changed – the lazy tendency, by some people who live in the town, to slag it off. I was one of them. 

Having lived here now for six years, I’ve grown to appreciate the rich heritage of East Anglia, as well as the exciting creative scene that’s developing here. Culturally, Lowestoft is a very different place to what it was only five years ago.

One constant that’s run through my social life in Suffolk and Norfolk has been music. In the very early 1980s, I organised coach trips from Benjamin Britten High School (I was a Sixth Former) to the University of East Anglia. It was the only way I was going to get to see bands I liked, such as The Skids, Comsat Angels and The Stranglers (below) – only one of my friends could drive and had access to a car at that time, I think – and it was also good to give something back to the school.

I always believed that with the right team of people in place, bands would come and play in Lowestoft. It sort-of worked when The Aquarium, a brand spanking new entertainment space, opened on the Claremont Pier. We subsequently had The Blockheads (post-Ian Dury), Electric Six and The Libertines down but, even then, people were deterred by the ticket prices. £13 for The Blockheads might not sound like a lot, but Lowestoft is an economically depressed town and has been for years.

So, in this day and age, £5 in advance – £7 on the door – is an absolute bargain for three musical acts, one of whom has supported Blondie, our old friends The Libertines and is attracting a lot of media attention. (Pricing like that is almost going back to when I paid 50p to see The Teardrop Explodes, supported by The Thompson Twins (there were six of them in those days) in October 1980.)

Youth Explosion and Lowestoft Live, a Community Interest Company, brought The Molotovs to our town. Founded by their bassist, Issey Carts, Youth Explosion, like Lowestoft Live, receives no state funding: its volunteers underwrite the costs involved with their own money. Now that's entertainment. 

The Molotovs themselves are steeped in the bands of my youth – The Jam, Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Undertones – and, further back, childhood – The Who, The Kinks. I knew the gig was going to be a success when a punter was turned away because the venue, The Seagull Theatre, had completely sold out. That hardly ever happens.

I’d been in touch with The Molotovs through their Facebook page and had arranged photo passes for myself and my friend, Phil Wells. I was impressed to see that the band had a merchandise stall, hosting goodies like badges, T-shirts and a live CD – all very professionally done – before they’d even got a recording contract. (Come to think of it, do any ‘record companies’, in the sense that I understand the term, still exist?)

Issey  was looking after the stall and we got chatting. I explained that Phil and I were photographers, and asked if it would be possible to interview the band for my blog. She immediately went backstage to ask her bandmates and was back almost as soon as she’d left, confirming that we could interview The Molotovs and take pictures if we wanted.

For such a young band, I was struck by how relaxed, knowledgeable, friendly and politically aware they are. Mathew (guitar and vocals) and Issey (bass, and vocals) are blonde siblings, while Ice Dob (drums and vocals) is dark haired and diminutive. The Molotovs have a missionary zeal for the Youth Explosion initiative; in a curious coincidence, it has a similar strategy to what The Restoration Trust, who Phil and I work for, does – where the Trust uses heritage to improve people’s mental health, Youth Explosion harnesses the music scene to motivate young people socially and creatively i.e. get them out of the house and into a concert hall. From there, they support any new bands that might develop. The intention is to gradually establish a national network of aspiring young musicians.

First up on the bill was a solo acoustic set from Alis Macintyre, a young Scot. As the opening warm up act, he alternated between his own compositions and well known cover versions – e.g. The Killers – to get people in the mood. It takes a lot to be the opening act of the night, as well as hold the audience’s attention without a band, and Alis succeeded admirably on both counts.

Chicanes (above) built towards the headliners with a full electric set. It was stimulating to hear a new take on grunge from the Norwich four-piece but, unfortunately, they were too loud, uncomfortably so to these ancient ears. While they were on, I couldn’t hear a word my friend, Hugh Davies, was saying and he couldn’t hear a word I was saying either. I did, though, hear enough Chicanes to want to see them again.

The Molotovs hit the stage and only stopped moving for a between song swig of water or change of plectrum. This band are the whole package – sharp, modish, inspirational songs like ‘No Time to Talk’, Weller-style jumps and a glamorous, statuesque bassist. At the back, meanwhile, Ice sets about her drums like the love child of Keith Moon and Mo Tucker. They also look GREAT – all three are incredibly photogenic, dressing with style, pride and confidence. The bond with their audience is apparent when Mathew invites some girls in the front row onto the stage, at the same time sharing a song with one of the road crew.

Anyone who’s looked at The Molotovs’ YouTube catalogue will know they do absolutely cracking cover versions. Tonight, we’re treated to a frantic ‘Suffragette City’ and, in a last-minute change from ‘Johnny B. Goode’, Eddie Cochrane’s ‘Come On Everybody’. I wonder if the band got to know the song through the original, or the Sid Vicious version on The Great Rock and Roll Swindle (1979)? I know which one I prefer.

The repeated refrain – “Come on everybody!” – summed up the evening: a dizzying, life-affirming rush of musical unity. Such a diverse trio of artists indicates that a variety of different styles of music is now being actively promoted in the town.

In 1977, Paul Weller sang "All Around the World / I've been looking for you". It's The Jam song from which Youth Explosion takes its name; Weller shouts out the statement in an instrumental break. Rest easy, Modfather – in the Lowestoft music scene, the right people have found each other.

Photographs © Robert Fairclough 2023.
Photograph of The Stranglers © Getty Images 2023.