Live Review: The Wildhearts - Blitz, Preston
6th December 2025
Support: Meryl Streek
Words: Dan Barnes
Photos: Tim Finch
The last time The Wildhearts played in Preston was the autumn of 2018 and for no apparent reason but – hey – any chance to get to see the band is to be taken with both hands. They’d wow’d a couple of months before at Rebellion Festival, headlining the Casbah Stage, yet the announcement of a show at the Guildhall came out of the blue. Long story short, even the band on the night seemed confused as to why they were there, made all the more curious by the fact that Ginger – Mr Wildheart, himself – was absent from the line up. Taking vocal and guitar duties that night was old friend of the band, Chris Catalyst, one time Sister of Mercy and a Nameless Ghost Ghoul.
In retrospect, that show doesn’t seem too far out of the ordinary for The Wildhearts, whose history is one of chaos and implosion. Though, for a rock & roll band, it’s parr for the course.
The Guildhall has been closed since before the lurgy hit, but the good folk at Madhouse Promotions have been making great use of the city’s Blitz venue over the past couple of years, annexing The Ferret for more intimate shows, and tonight Blitz is where we and this new look Wildhearts find ourselves for the second night of their Satanic Rites of… UK tour.
Support is from Irish post punk poet, Meryl Streek, who’s appearing everywhere rage needs to be set to music. From being accepted in the Punk scene, with shows at Rebellion Festival and supporting Public Image Limited, to being a success at the distinctly extreme Damnation Festival, here is a musical artist who thrives on political agitation in much the same manner as Sleaford Mods make their social observations.
With just a live drummer and backing tracks over which to sing, it’s a tirade of rage-infused ire, directed at such establishment targets as politicians and the Catholic Church. There’s venomous spite spat from every syllable and it hardly matters that every word isn’t crystal clear; it’s enough to feel the vitriol in the music and the beats themselves. The set might be short, but the energy expended by both the band and returned from the crowd is palpable.
The Wildhearts seemed to be enjoying something of an Indian Summer with the 2019 release of their ninth album – and first for a decade – Renaissance Men, taking the band’s vibes back to the glory days of Earth vs… and P.H.U.Q. 21st Century Love Songs received high praise, landing them slots at the Download Pilot and 2021 Bloodstock Open Air, and booked to be Michael Schenker’s special guest at Stonedead 2022. Yet, fate conspired against them and The Wildhearts’ third reformation came crashing down.
But, like all true warriors, Ginger didn’t hear no bell, and dusted himself off, gathered together a few friends and climbed back on the horse. The resulting The Satanic Rites of The Wildhearts was a purer example of Ginger’s vision than previous records, spreading the influences across the record’s ten tunes. Jon Poole and Ben Marsden performed on the album and are here on tour, with new boy Charles Evans taking up the drum stool.
Before a note has been played, Ginger confesses he’s not feeling too good, though rather than make an excuse to cancel, he warns that if he keels over it’s for a good reason. New album closer, Failure Is the Mother of Success is first up, hitting like an old fan favourite and making good on Ginger’s promise that tonight was going to be “fuckin’ great”. When Nothing Changes But the Shoes from the band’s Don’t Be Happy… Just Worry EP from 1992, followed by 21st Century’s Sleepaway, the realisation hits that this isn’t going to be a typical WIldhearts set.
The Chutzpah trio of Vernix, Mazel Tov Cocktail and a snippet of The Only One confirms the comment that we should expect stuff rarely, if ever, played before. Geordie In Wonderland gives
way to the punk rock energy of Kunce and the dirty riffing of Maintain Radio Silence, and it seems that Ginger’s health has started to improve. Top of the World B-side, Cheers, has most people singing away, and there’s a honky-tonk vibe going on in Splitter.
Even though The Satanic Rites… is barely keeping down solids, brand new song, Spider Beach, from a forthcoming 2026 album suggests a heavier direction through stomping and infectious beats. In comparison, stone-cold classic, Everlong, has voices raised into the low ceiling, as it pretty much encapsulates that Nineties Brit Rock in six-or-so-minutes. Slaughtered Authors is feisty, Troubadour Moon is upbeat and jolly.
Yet all is not right with Mr WIldheart, and he offers his apologies for needing to take a ten-minute recess to let his medication get to work. Right on cue, they return with the modern classic, Diagnosis, to remind us the band’s creative genius did not taper off with the end of the millennium. Suckerpunch and My Baby is a Headfuck are as fresh and rambunctious today as they were back in 1994; a year later and I Wanna Go Where the People Go told us The Wildhearts had some serious game.
The show ends with the title track from Chutzpah! making every face walking out into the Preston night crack open with a smile.
On reflection it was quite odd having a Wildhearts’ show without the likes of Vanilla Radio, Sick of Drugs, or Greetings from Shitsville; but to include one or all of those, would mean dropping something else, and tonight’s set wasn’t about that. It was a reminder that the chaos that is The Wildhearts still has at least one more season to run.
Here’s hoping Ginger recovered quickly and was able to spread the joy of tonight to the rest of the tour.
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