Once More Unto the Beach: 1MU at Rebellion ’25, Day 1
So. Here we go again. I arrived, face masks in hand, ready to venture into Blackpool’s legendary Rebellion Festivals. My second year; their 29th.
One Man Underground at Rebellion 25. ©dickslaughter.com
After my now-traditional initial perusal of the stalls lining the Winter Gardens horseshoe, I dipped my head into the adjoining RIS In Pavilion stage, where Nottingham’s Bad Milk Blood Robot had just started. Front-loaded with organs, both musical and, thanks to a set of inflatable eyeballs making their way across the crowd, medical, the unapologetically odd 4-piece provided a fun start to my day, blending grunge and psychedelia into songs about the scourge of technology, their ire particularly aimed at an always worthy topic of derision, AI.
In stark contrast to the opulence of the Opera House, Brighton’s Pussyliqour delivered some swaggering hardcore rage. Clad in a dishevelled interpretation of Ginger Spice’s Union Jack dress, frontwoman Ari Black commanded an early crowd eagerly lapping up their mosh-worthy critique of patriarchal bullshit, in the finest traditions of their riot grrrl progenitors. That they must write these indictments of society should shame us all. That they turn it into blistering rock and roll is a worthy silver lining.
Evil Blizzard at Rebellion ‘25. © Phil Thorns
Evil Blizzard at Rebellion ‘25. © Phil Thorns
It’s fair to say that, at large festivals such as Rebellion, I often will watch a band purely based on their name. Despite a long-standing cult following thanks to their championing by the late, great Mark E. Smith, Evil Blizzard was one such case. As it was, their set in the Empress Ballroom was a major standout of my day. Strutting on stage in masks varying from the burlesque to the grotesque, with at least half of the 6 members playing bass, they went on to deliver a psychedelic, glam tinged yet doom-laden set of motorik punk noise, that variously reminded me of Primus and The Residents. The Blizz Army, their own Swifties, made their presence aware by booing after every number. I got the joke, but I couldn’t join them. They were too good. An outstanding set from the Preston sextet, who delivered that rarest of things in the realm of rock and roll – something I’d not heard before.
Carol Hodge at Rebellion ‘25. ©1MU
I briefly caught a little of London’s Dog Rotten in the Arena, whose blend of rap and rock thankfully leaned closer to Rage Against The Machine than Limp Bizkit, not just in their sonic palette, but in where they seemed to direct their anger. But this was only fleeting, as I was keen to revisit one of 2024’s highlights, the Almost Acoustic set from Carol Hodge. Having since explored much of her recorded output, I cannot help but feel it is in this stripped-back mode, her songs accompanied by solo keyboard, where both her songwriting and voice shine most brightly.
I spent the next hour or so flitting between various bands, taking in the all-female garage-glam sound of The Priscillas in the Opera House, the polished grunge of Aussie duo Mannequin Death Squad (another great name) in the Arena, and punk legends UK Subs in the Ballroom, Charlie Harper’s voice as strong as ever.
Steve Ignorant at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
But this was all filling in time before my second engagement with Carol Hodge, as keyboardist and backing vocalist for Steve Ignorant’s Slice Of Life. Unlike Crass, this is a much more musically sedate mode for Steve, and his accompanying drum-less trio might typically be found backing up some folky warbler. But of course, that is not Steve’s style. If I had to describe what he’s doing here, the closest I could come up with is a punk rock Rex Harrison, but that doesn’t really do justice to the power of his delivery. These are heartfelt, seemingly deeply personal pieces, somewhere between prose and poetry, that bring Steve to the verge of tears at one point. And though the clash of vocals and music is like chalk and cheese, it seems to be in service of something truly emotional and wonderful. Again, as with Evil Blizzard, I was captivated by the sound of a group doing something quite unique.
Steve Ignorant’s Slice Of Life at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
I had gone into Elvana with high hopes – the gimmick of Nirvana songs performed by an Elvis impersonator seemed too delicious to ignore. By the end of their opening number, ‘Territorial Pissings’, I spotted the fundamental flaw in the project – the lead singer doesn’t really sound like Elvis. Nobody else in the crowd seemed to care, but for me, the project lives or dies on the strength of the impersonation. And that just didn’t work for me.
Knuckleheadz Band. ©dickslaughter.com
Knuckleheadz at Scream & Shake Horror Bar, August 2025. ©1MU
I had been looking forward to seeing Knuckleheadz again in the intimate environment of the Scream & Shake Horror Bar, as part of the sprawling Rebellion Fringe festival. And true to form, they delivered another outstanding set. But given the crowd started moshing before the band had played a single note, I decided it would be best enjoyed from outside the venue. Possibly with a chicken and lamb shawarma from the local Trend restaurant, who also served excellent focaccia bread pizzas. To whoever’s running that place – if you’d like to sponsor me with some free food for next year’s festival, hit me up x
My day ended at Club Casbah with TV Smith & The Bored Teenagers. Having seen TV Smith both solo and with drummer Vom Ritchie last year, this time around he was frontman to his backing trio, performing classics from the Adverts catalogue. And what a frontman he was – with charisma and magnetism for days, Smith absolutely powered his way through the set, putting performers a third of his age (and by now flagging internet commentators half his age) to shame with both his voice and leg-kicking energy. A thrilling end to the day.
TV Smith & The Bored Teenagers at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
As I walked back to the hotel, I noticed rolls of paper flying across roads and along pavements. Following just behind them, the green-and-black clad members of Knuckleheadz. Rock on.
