Away Gigs

By the time the doors opened at the Oyster Fleet, you could feel it — that strange electricity that only comes with endings. The final Lee Brilleaux Memorial Night wasn’t just another date on the calendar; it was a gathering of believers, a farewell to a tradition that has carried the spirit of Dr Feelgood across decades, borders, and generations. Fans arrived from all over the UK, a strong contingent from Holland, and even die‑hards from Newcastle, turning the venue into a living map of devotion.

As one veteran critic once wrote, “This music doesn’t fade; it waits for you to return.” On this night, everyone returned.

Shotgun — R&B with the old swagger

The evening opened with Shotgun, a line‑up so steeped in pedigree it felt like a chapter torn straight from the Canvey Island archives: The Big Figure, John B. Sparkes, Gordon Russell, Pete Gage. Their brand of R&B — the real, unfussy, shoulder‑squared kind — hit the room with the authority of men who helped define it.

They tore through “She Does It Right,” “I Can Tell,” “No Mo Do Yakamo,” and a gloriously swamp‑thick “Shotgun.” Every number landed with that unmistakable Feelgood snap. The band looked like they were enjoying themselves; the crowd looked like they’d waited all year for it.

The fuse was lit early; the night was already humming.

Eddie and the Hot Rods — velocity, chaos, heart, and honour

Then came Eddie and the Hot Rods, still one of the most electrifying live acts Britain ever produced. Barrie Masters bounded onstage shirtless, scarves tied at his wrists like punk‑rock talismans — and smiling throughout the entire set, that trademark grin that made him look permanently plugged into the mains.

The set was a full‑throttle charge through the catalogue:

• “Power and the Glory”
• “The Beginning of the End”
• “Teenage Depression”
• “Life on the Line”
• “Telephone Girl”
• “Do Anything You Wanna Do”
• “Gloria”

The Rods don’t play gigs — they launch them. And if anyone ever doubted their commitment, there’s a story that settles it. At Chelmsford ’77 Rock, attendance was a disaster and the organisers admitted the bands wouldn’t be paid. The Rods still played their full set without hesitation. No complaints, no drama — just pure rock ’n’ roll integrity.

The Damned refused to play that night, then later returned to Chelmsford for a make‑up gig, charging around 90p on the door. Admirable, yes. But the Rods didn’t need redemption. They showed up, plugged in, and delivered.

Some bands burn bright; the Rods burn forward — and they keep their promises along the way.

Kursaal Flyers — pub-rock with pop shine

This year brought a full Kursaal Flyers set — a reminder of their unique place in the pub‑rock world. People often group them with the Feelgoods and the Rods, but the Flyers carved out their own lane: sharp, witty, melodic, and built on a distinctly British sense of humour.

They delivered their massive hit “Little Does She Know”, still regularly played on UK radio, with the same theatrical charm that made it famous. Tight, tuneful, and unmistakably themselves, the Flyers proved once again why their legacy endures.

Dr Feelgood — the tradition that never breaks

And then came Dr Feelgood — the set I always stay for. Every year, without fail. It’s part of the ritual, part of the night’s heartbeat. They’re not the original Doctors, but they carry the torch with conviction, and the crowd responds as if the flame never dimmed.

This year the audience felt like a pilgrimage. Fans from Newcastle, London, Essex, and the continent packed the room. Many had booked rooms at the Oyster Fleet, turning the night into a full‑blown gathering rather than just a gig. You could feel that sense of arrival — people weren’t just here for songs; they were here for lineage.

The band played with power, precision, and a clear love for the legacy. Every chorus landed. Every riff carried weight.

Legacy is a long shadow; some bands walk inside it, some walk beside it — but Feelgood fans follow it wherever it goes.

A night to remember

Such a good night was had by all — drinks flowing, laughter rising, and an atmosphere that didn’t just buzz, it roared. Fans stood shoulder to shoulder, people from the continent mixing with locals and travellers from far and wide. The Oyster Fleet became more than a hotel; it turned into a gathering place, a hub of stories and anticipation.

I remember that night clearly: the warm lights, the lake outside, the hum of conversation, and those good vibes that never dipped for a moment.

Some nights fade when the music stops; this one stayed glowing long after the last chord died away.