It was an ordinary school morning way back in 1973, and a young Miles Hunt descended the stairs of his parent’s Derbyshire home to be confronted by the startling sight of seven men sporting big hair, big clothes and perhaps even bigger hangovers, fast asleep on his floor.
The impromptu guests in question were all members of 1970s glam rock legends Wizzard, a band famed or their financial profligacy, presumably taking the opportunity to claw back a precious few quid, availing themselves of a night’s free bed and board in between gigs, courtesy of one of the band’s family members, Miles being the nephew of Wizzard keyboardist Bill Hunt, incidentally sharing a similar connection to the band with yours truly.'
The incident in question, recalled fondly by Miles reading an extract from his three-part memoir The Wonder Stuff Diaries, not only served as his first inspiration to consider a career in rock and roll but also to confess to a packed Brudenell that he’d also been guilty of the same offence on more than one occasion throughout more than three decades of touring.
I’d never caught a Miles Hunt solo acoustic show beforehand, although as a fellow West Midlander, there had been more than a fair share of live Wonder Stuff action over the years, including a bouncing Hometown Hoedown show prior to the departure of original bassist Rob Jones, not forgetting one of their excellent Kentish Town residency gigs after reforming in 2000, where I’d vowed to go for a piss if they played ‘Dizzy’ only to stay put when Vic Reeves wandered on stage to join them. More recently I’d also seen Miles and Erica perform as a duo as well as catching a recent Wonder Stuff ‘Sleigh the UK’ tour supported by PWEI and Jesus Jones. Tonight however it was just Miles, a couple of guitars and a host of memories as a packed, enraptured Brudenell hung off his every word.
Opening with ‘Speakeasy’, the first song Hunt ever wrote, followed by ‘It’s not True’ originally performed in an audition, getting Miles into Malcolm Treece’s band as frontman, the crowd were treated to a selection of favourites with a few of personal choices thrown in for good measure, not forgetting a couple of either/or options, everyone getting to choose by round of applause. Drawing from all eras of The Wonder Stuff plus a few outliers from collaborations with Wayne Hussey and Billy Duffy, Hunt had a story for practically every song. A couple written in New York hotel rooms during different Wonder Stuff tours, another dedicated to a friend’s kids, not forgetting ‘We Hold Each Other’, penned for a mate with whom he then fell out, only to touchingly reintroduce to his set after hearing of his now ex-mate’s wife’s passing. Admittedly some more recent tunes were less familiar than Stuffy classics whilst others, I still associate with the bands increasingly rootsy direction which admittedly left me a little cold at the time. Nevertheless, shorn of their bells and whistles, every song held up superbly, with Hunt’s voice proving something of a revelation into the bargain, standing up to be counted when there was no place to hide.
Words- Mike Price
