Even for the most seasoned of headline acts, it’s a tough gig.
Through no fault of his own, Richard Ashcroft – best known to millions as the lead vocalist and primary songwriter for British rock megaliths The Verve – had found himself effectively serving as the warm-up act for England’s Euro 2024 final against Spain.
A nation waited with baited breath to see whether eleven brave men (and Gareth Southgate) would end fifty-eight years of hurt and finally bring football home. It was already a British cultural event of seismic significance, and one that, if all went to plan, promised the kind of national celebrations that would’ve led to the majority of this country’s workers calling in ‘sick’ for a week while every pub landlord in the country rubbed their hands together in glee.
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We suppose that what we’re saying is that it would’ve been all too easy for Richard Ashcroft to phone this one in.
He could’ve cut his set short. He could’ve lazily strummed his way through Lucky Man and hot-footed it back to his dressing room to catch the start of the match. Heck, he could’ve just chosen to believe that half the people in attendance were effectively using his concert as a pre-drinking session before heading back to their living rooms to gaze at an ITV stream for ninety minutes in the hope it wouldn’t end in tears.
But, dear reader, the man did no such thing. In what can only be described as a testament to this living legend and his talent, despite the distractions, tension, and last-minute changes to the night’s running order, Richard Ashcroft still managed to deliver one of the best alt-rock performances we’ve had the pleasure of observing in a long time.
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Kicking off with The Verve classic Space and Time, the legendary singer/songwriter delivered a 10-song set that was nothing short of a masterclass.
As he rattled through a setlist comprised primarily of hits from his former band – with a few choice solo cuts, like set highlight Music Is Power, sprinkled in for good measure – Ashcroft seemed keen to make the most of every moment of this close-to-capacity show. By the time he broke into Weeping Willow, he had the crowd in the palm of his hand; and once he reached the smash-hit home stretch of The Drugs Don’t Work and Lucky Man
And then came the inevitable. A roaring, raucous, and victorious rendition of Bitter Sweet Symphony, a song so powerful that there’s a strong chance it’ll be adopted as the English national anthem if the British Government ever decides that we’re due a refresh. ‘And how was it received?’, we hear you ask? Well, imagine the kind of primal roar that would’ve met an English victory in the Euros, and then amplify it by a hundred. Grown men were in tears, families had their arms aloft, and even the most reluctant of dragged-along husbands and wives had admitted defeat and succumbed to the sheer jubilation that comes with belting out a British classic in a park in the middle of summer.
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On a day where the nation had its eyes and ears elsewhere, it’s a testament to Ashcroft that he still managed to put on one of the best all-out rock shows we’ve had the pleasure of witnessing for many moons.
He came, he played the hits, and he left everybody in that field longing for more; if that’s not the mark of a true rock star, then we’re not sure what is.
