‘Good morning Sheffield’ remarks Rick Witter at approximately 1:45pm on a rainy Friday afternoon. He is accompanied by Tom Gladwin and Paul Banks, the latter looking like he’s dressed for an afternoon trip to the garden centre. Yet the anthemic songs that reverberate throughout Hillsborough Park are a stark reminder that the ever-unpretentious Shed Seven remain their effervescent selves three decades after their formation.
The band’s origin story is unalluring; formed in York in 1990, they remain there to this day. Smitten with this small part of the north and never seduced by the capital, the band approached their indie rock and brit pop craft without the Oasis/Blur celebrity bust-ups. Their demeanour remains joyous – the band look as giddy to be in attendance as their audience.
‘Does anyone remember 1994?’ Witter’s optimistic – half the audience present are still teenagers. Regardless, those who do remember the nineties join in while the additional brass during ‘Ocean Pie’ gives the show added firepower.
Spotting a particularly young fan, Witter hands him one of his maracas. ‘You’re cool as f***’ he exclaims. Witter’s endeavour to find others this young is short-lived. ‘You’re too big, get down’ he jokes to older fans who’ve clambered over shoulders hoping for a freebie. This everyman appeal returns as Witter responds to those who’ve approached the band online prior to the gig. It’s a humorous part of the performance – one fan doesn’t provide their name, resulting in Witter calling them by their Twitter handle ‘Head of Maths’ – but this segment grows a touch tedious.
Fortunately, both ‘Disco Down’ and ‘Chasing Rainbows’ bring attention back to musical euphoria, with even the younger fans joining in. ‘Have a fantastic weekend, get pissed, enjoy’ yells Witter, a mantra this audience seem delighted to follow.