The show must go on: for Shed Seven it’s barely stopped, a roller-coaster of sorts which began in the heat of Britpop and, with barely a four year break at the beginning of the century, has seen them complete the sort of comeback that Lazarus would be proud of.
Ask chief Shed Rick Witter whether he feels that his band were ever given a fair critical hearing back in the day and he’ll tell you that any of the Cool Britannia glory always went the way of Pulp, Oasis or Blur, where as the York quintet usually found themselves at the back of the queue for praise, portrayed as cred-dodging interlopers which the scene queens treated with disdain or disinterest.
Witter grew up with The Smiths and latterly The Stone Roses, influences never far from the surface of a trail of chart riding singles (15 in the Top 40 when that still meant something) before a brief intermission between 2003 and 2007, after which initially a new line-up took to the heritage tour circuit.
Growing in confidence and popularity, in 2017 they released Instant Pleasures, an album of new material which fans loved and, even if nobody makes money from selling music these days, spoke loudly to new ambitions. It also reinforced a truth: what their detractors don’t realise is that Witter doesn’t need telling that there’s no equivalent to Animal Nitrate, Girls & Boys or Common People in their repertoire; Shed Seven’s popularity was never in the shake of a hip or brute force, but forged in songs that had no cost of entry and came without a requirement for taking sides.
Accordingly, one of Going For Gold’s most striking features is that it’s a greatest hits set which has the novelty of containing some actual hits. Some will be here for the extra material, which includes previously unreleased live versions of Chasing Rainbows and Bully Boy but let’s face it, this is about buying memories, not music. The twirling stomp of Disco Down? A rave from the grave. Chasing Rainbows’ heartbroken guitar solo? A blast from the past. Where Have You Been Tonight’s jagged, mascara smeared glamour? A reminder of a messed up blinder.
And at the end of the night, when people are sweeping up the party and your cab has been taken and someone is kissing someone else in a shop doorway, in hooking you back up with your best days, Going For Gold has kept all of its promises. Perhaps this is the essence of why Witter and Shed Seven find themselves more loved than ever, a trust which is key to the remarkable new thirst for their music amongst generations who’ve handed it down to the next like an heirloom.
What this means for the apparent stasis in public taste and the unstoppable plume of cultural retromania isn’t their problem either. Going For Gold has joy in it – the show must go on, but that doesn’t mean that Shed Seven can’t still have the last laugh.
