Forever Now
Milton Keynes Bowl, Milton Keynes
22nd June 2025
As Forever Now, the UK’s “alternative culture, post punk music, fashion and literature” answer to Cruel World, opened for the first time at Milton Keynes’ National Bowl, the sartorial theme du jour is pretty straightforward…
It’s always tricky, Festival Season, isn’t it? What the hell do I wear? There’s a balance to be struck between practicality (we’re going to be walking, dancing and maybe even jumping up and down at some point) and effortless, stylish self expression. And then there’s the weather: what if it rains? What if it’s blistering sun? Well, I’ll save you the effort: today is black day. Black boots. Black jeans. Black shirts. Black shades. Black. Onstage and off. Practical. Utilitarian. Flattering. Goes with everything.
Local(ish) lads UK Decay kick proceedings on the Main Stage off efficiently enough, even if Abbo does introduce the wrong song half way through the set. Testament in particular sets a suitable proto-goth note for the day ahead.
We make haste to the Other Stage (which appears to be set in a car park) for John Mckay’s Reactor: an opportunity for one of new wave’s guitar heroes to remind us of where some of our favourite noises came from. Late to start and plagued by tech problems, they manage to hit their stride for a handful of early Banshees classics including a suitably spiky Hong Kong Garden, and in doing so summon a pair of raptors (too early in the day for bats, I suppose) to hover against a menacing sky.
To the Main Stage for The Chameleons, who have more than touch of War-era U2 about them, particularly in Vox’s delivery (they MUST be related!). Set closer Don’t Fall gives us the first – and surely most densely packed – cover version/ mash up of the day taking in Bowie, The Doors and The Smiths in the blink of an ear.
Next are The Psychedelic Furs: suave, glowering sophistication and coordinated tailoring. But don’t expect any comfy shoes (or cufflinks) from the Butler brothers: they kick off with President Gas from 1982’s Forever Now (do you see?) before an all too brief scamper through a catalogue that could easily have been explored further. Ah well, another day, perhaps. But before they go, we get their soundtrack crossovers Ghost In You and Pretty In Pink, which gives us the first real sing along of the day, despite the absence of Mars Williams’ sax.
Ominously, PiL are a few minutes late onstage…but no matter, because John Lydon is in sparkling form, enthusing about the congenial backstage atmosphere and clearly in the mood to enjoy himself, despite being relegated to the car park. Notably the only band so far not dressed in black, they inject a bit of energy into proceedings and even provide the first honest to goodness dancefloor stomper of the day with Open Up (complete with Bez backstage swigging tequila), followed by raucous singalong Rise. Is that a tear in your eye? Or was it a spot of rain?
Meanwhile at the main arena bowl area, everyone’s favourite Smith, Johnny Marr, is also in fine, energetic form. We join him just in time to catch a mid-set Please, Please, Please, which really does threaten to tun everyone to goo, but we pull ourselves together sharpish when the opening rumble of How Soon Is Now? throbs at us. Such is his career arc, he surely has the widest range of options available, so as well as Smiths classics and his solo stuff, we’re treated to (Electronica’s) Getting Away With It and he even finds room for a cover of a new wave staple and crowd favourite, Iggy’s Passenger.
Back at the car park, the Happy Mondays have taken the stage. Not sure quite how, where and if they fit into the new wave thing, but it’s a festival, mid-afternoon, and we’re up for some festival classics, aren’t we? And the Mondays certainly do have a catalogue that distills nicely into a festival set: Kinky Afro, Hallelujah and Step On provoke a widespread outbreak of actual dancing, led as ever by the irrepressible Bez (powered by Patron). However, the vibes take a rather bum turn early in Wrote For Luck when front of house sound is cut off by the organisers. A gnomic message appears behind the band explaining that the show will restart shortly…
So off we go to see Billy Idol. No car park for him. He’s Box Office Main Stage, man. He’s brought some proper L.A. razzle dazzle/biker/secret police chic to Milton Keynes and he’s not afraid to deploy it. This means Elvis shrugs and sneers, clenched fists and of course, the er…Top Gun anthem delivered by Billy’s perennial plank spanker Steve Stevens, who is so far leading the pack in the running for Biggest Hair Of The Day. Head and shoulders above, if you will. Between them, they also have HITS and everyone is delighted when they get to howl along to Rebel Yell and White Wedding.
After all this excitement – and walking – this correspondent’s tired legs lead him to the grassy bank of the bowl to have a sit down to watch The The. Matt Johnson – man of many microphones – and band (also clad entirely in black) take us through their bluesy anxious melancholia and are joined by Johnny Marr (him again! Does he never rest?) for Beaten Generation and Dogs Of Lust.
No rest for us though, because there’s further anxious melancholia on offer at the Car Park Stage (now officially renamed) as the Jesus And Mary Chain take the stage. And almost immediately, there’s a change of plan, as time constraints force a set list change. We’ll never know what we missed, but we do get to hear April Skies and Some Candy Talking as well as seeing Primal Scream’s Simone Marie Butler join them for backing vocals. They later take to social media to criticise the imposition of a truncated timeslot. And they’re not alone: The Damned are later cut off in their prime during Neat Neat Neat.
Time flies fast at Forever Now, and before we know it, Kraftwerk (not dressed in black at all, but lit up entirely, in fact) are on the Main Stage. One could argue that they are a curious choice of headliner on a largely new wave bill but it is Sunday night, one supposes.
As is so often the case, it’s back in the car park that the action is: Death Cult are on, plundering their early catalogue of deep, deep cuts. Ian Astbury prowls, skips and hollers and Billy Duffy’s guitar howls; they really do sound like a band half their age. And they play a few Cult classics: we get Hollow Man, Resurrection Joe, Dreamtime and of course a triumphant She Sells Sanctuary to close. And yes, they’re wearing black.
Was the first ever Forever Now a triumph, despite the stage clashes (where even was stage 3…)? Absolutely. Were there some snagging points? Certainly. Should this now be an annual event on the post punk new wave calendar? Most definitely. Circled in black and scented with patchouli oil.
~
All words by Ed Hewens, this is Ed’s first review for Louder Than War.
All words and photos by Naomi Dryden-Smith Louder Than War | Facebook | X | Instagram | portfolio
Use of these images in any form without permission is copyright infringement. If you wish to use/purchase or license any images please contact naomi@louderthanwar.com
A Plea From Louder Than War
Louder Than War is run by a small but dedicated independent team, and we rely on the small amount of money we generate to keep the site running smoothly. Any money we do get is not lining the pockets of oligarchs or mad-cap billionaires dictating what our journalists are allowed to think and write, or hungry shareholders. We know times are tough, and we want to continue bringing you news on the most interesting releases, the latest gigs and anything else that tickles our fancy. We are not driven by profit, just pure enthusiasm for a scene that each and every one of us is passionate about.
To us, music and culture are eveything, without them, our very souls shrivel and die. We do not charge artists for the exposure we give them and to many, what we do is absolutely vital. Subscribing to one of our paid tiers takes just a minute, and each sign-up makes a huge impact, helping to keep the flame of independent music burning! Please click the button below to help.
John Robb – Editor in Chief