How Simple Things moves a whole city

Come a leaf-kissed, golden brown Saturday, Simple Things plays heady host to a one-size-fits-all showcase for your absolute sonic pleasure.

As far as the Land of Hope and Glory goes, in my mind, Bristol is considered a bit of a musical mecca. Forget the London Underground, this is where it’s really at. Home to the Bristol Northern Soul Club, which is enjoying a revival among young Motown lovers and mod aspirers with TikTok faces. It would be remiss of me not to mention the likes of Sarah Records and Tectonic, labels with heavy contributions to the city’s diverse music landscape – analogue and electronic.

The point is, we know we’re living in testing times for live music. Especially in old Blighty, where post-pandemic licensing jitters linger long for venues still under threat of closure. People here are in desperate need of an omnibus outlet that caters to their plentiful palates. That doesn’t require a passport, or essentials for wet campsite commotions. Something short and sweet, chock-full of the adolescent antics we crave after a long week of office politics (within reason, of course).

That’s where Simple Things steps in. Previous acts include Slowdive, IDLES, Evian Christ, Fat Dog, Death Grips, and Skepta. Obviously where better to host this festival than the place responsible for a lot of my developmental discoveries, coming-of-age to the warehouse-ready Skins soundtrack: Crystal Castles, Santigold, Zomby, Virus Syndicate. The memory of Cook and Effy raving to “Pump That Pussy” by The Original Gabber, forever ingrained in my 2014 Tumblr GIF brain.

For its eleventh edition, the eclectic programme of Simple Things, co-curated by Crack Magazine, Team Love, and Bristol Beacon, manages to instill a similar sense of revelation. Profiling fresh, fashionable players and already-established trailblazers, it succeeds in spades: punk, funk, dub, drill, and the list goes on.

Technically, it’s a week-long affair. Performing in the lead-up to Saturday’s shenanigans were Autechre at The Prospect Building, Daniel Avery at Bristol Beacon: closing out on Sunday, in the Grade II concert locale's Lantern Hall, Dutch pianist and composer Joep Beving. Wristband access grants you permission to venue-hop wherever you fancy, there’s seven in total. It’s all very walkable, once you get past the steep slopes of the city’s cobblestone terrain.

Right across the Broadmead shopping area is Rough Trade. Kicking activities off in the live room is Edinburgh teen duo No Windows, who manage to swoon and serenade a small crowd in the gleam of fairy light furnishings. It’s a low-key affair, a harmonious showcase of soft rock and shoegaze. Multi-instrumentalist Morgan Morris is in sync with lyricist Verity Slangen, who shows off her vocal skills as she sways eyes-closed in a black babydoll dress à la Courtney Love, or Audrey Horne. Other Rough Trade guests include London-France hybrid Léa Sen, and Adult DVD – who put on a popular set of energetic dance rock favourites despite an extended queue flying out the door.

Unless you’re accustomed to the British tradition of long waiting in single file, you may miss out on some musical preferences because of building capacity. Operating a one-in-one-out system, it’s reassuring to see safety precautions in place for each venue. Though, admittedly, when zigzagging, I did lose out on a spot at club/bar Zed Alley for electro entity Tracey, and New Jersey rapper Fatboy Sharif.

All this to say, don’t let it deter you from exploring, as the majority of Saturday’s lineup is simply across the street from itself. Case in point The Lanes, “more than just a bowling alley”, fusing a dining and dancing concept for its live music staging. As waitstaff wade through the congregation, serving craft beers and giant pizzas to peckish punters upstairs, I observe from the sidelines below a Bristol-based roster of 90s indie and alt rock blends. Pixies-esque The Shania Twainsaw Massacre stun, and so do Nobody’s Dad. Five-piece The Cindys have a sweet, summery edge – arrangements akin to The Cardigans.

Simple Things is nothing short of stacked, and you’ll need to refuel, not least for afters with Laurel Halo and Orpheu The Wizard on the decks (if you can brave it). Before the afternoon, I sought out Crack recommendation Soft Buoys, a new local harbourside kiosk serving up some neat grilled cheeses. Opt for The Original, a five-cheese blend with butter, mayo and pickle. To my surprise, like a side quest of sorts, is the Bristol Megascreen, located in the heart of the city inside its Aquarium attraction. DIY highlights in the former IMAX cinema include: audiovisual project TAKKUK celebrating Indigenous musicians from the Arctic with BICEP, BABii’s acid art slideshow, and Iglooghost for the final curtain.

Take the scenic route up the historic Christmas Steps – it’s exactly like the front of a festive Hallmark card – and you’ll find Sportsmans just around the corner. Stop for a pint, have a go on one of their arcade machines, and soak up the experimental punk powers of MOULD, Hotline TNT, and Year of the Rabbit. Go-getters My First Time, who are set to play Best Fit’s Five Day Forecast in January, and exuberant Swedish newcomers Lover’s Skit – lead singer Nathalia Aránguiz sweatily commands with wisecracking clamors. “I’m gonna need you to move bitches... I dedicate this next one to all the men I hate.” A lot of bald, headbanging thirty-somethings in dad caps and Jeffrey Dahmer aviators are receptive.

Late night bar Strange Brew, with its fluorescent paint and chain ceiling fixtures, draws a mixed crowd of skater bros, metalheads, emo kids, and your average joe. In my opinion, it is the most diverse setting of the seven, accommodating a plethora of sonic styles and subcultures. After Lucy Gooch’s folk and dream pop masterclass in the tented Back Room, there’s Egypt’s Nadah El Shazly. She wisps, in red hue, to the rhythm of a genre-defying, improvisational set: industrial, trip-hop, and Arabic influences.

In the Front Room, Chicago-born singer-songwriter keiyaA beautifully brings to life her second album hooke’s law. Jazzy, political and poetic, she declares affirmations and a “Free Palestine, Free Sudan, Free Congo”. Sporting a beanie and black shades, South London MC Jawnino is a showstopper. For an audience of gassed up fans in identical dress code, he brings in bass-driven jungle, grime and cloud rap – "I just did two lines in Westfield”. Chopped and screwed and splendid, “big up Bristol”, he exclaims in between bars.

It’s getting late, and before you know it, I find myself traversing inebriated Bristolians on an early night out on the town. Lads sat on the curb without their left shoe, a hun formation at every kebab stall, it is indeed a uni student’s playground.

Throughout the day, I’ve darted in and out of the behemoth that is Bristol Beacon. The centerpiece for Simple Things is situated just off the city centre promenade. Completing a “once-in-a generation transformation” back in 2023 now allows for big names like These New Puritans, Upchuck, and VLURE to close out the day in simultaneous multi-room slots. There’s a lot of hype coming from the mouths of eager festivalgoers for Dry Cleaning’s turn, in the huge Beacon Hall. They’re set to release their much-anticipated third LP Secret Love next year. Performing another hypnotic ambient noise set after the previous night’s Pitchfork London, Malibu hides behind Lantern Hall’s blinding oscillating spotlight.

In the steamy, claustrophobic Cellars shines up-and-coming Bristol DJ tskali, whose mix pops and fizzes like SOPHIE’s PRODUCT before erupting in Balearic beach beats. aya's is also a lot of fun, and harkens back to early, baile funk M.I.A., on account of relentless whistles and clinging sword samples. For the tenth birthday of influential Kampala-based label Nyege Nyege Tapes, DJ Travella followed PO and Sisso & Maiko, in the Bridgehouse foyer space.

The Bug – aka the uncompromising Kevin Martin – in front of a charged mass invites a couple of his music mates on to the stage with him in Beacon Hall. In tandem with the boom of dub-ready soundsystems, Warrior Queen enthralls and entertains. Grime legend Manga Saint Hilare’s heavy-hitter lyricism can be heard and felt a mile away.

“Gun fingers nice and high,” Manga proclaims – a signal not just to turn up. See, rolled into one loud, concentrated jamboree, Simple Things is Bristol’s communal ride or die, and it shows zero signs of slowing down. Skip Cassie’s bench, I say.