Steelhouse Hafod Y Dafal Farm, Ebbw Vale 29th – 31st July 2022
Everyone loves a bit of classic rock, right? One UK festival that absolutely revels in it is Steelhouse – perched up a steeply wooded escarpment at Hafod Y Dafal Farm on the southern edges of the Brecon Beacons, it holds the distinction of being the UK’s highest music festival.
With this in mind, I’ve seen Steelhouse referred to as a pilgrimage made atop a ‘mountain’. At an elevation of 1200ft, I figure the average Nepalese sherpa might have something to say about that, but there’s no denying that accessing the site is a challenge in itself. It’s served by a rock-strewn forest track I’ve variously seen described as a stairway to heaven or a highway to hell, depending on whether or not you’re equipped with four-wheel drive.
Last year, Steelhouse was one of only a few festivals which survived Covid, and was commendably put together at short notice and with a reduced capacity. 2022 is the first time the festival has been at full strength in three years. Having only ever read uniformly favourable opinions about it, I’ve been greatly looking forward to my inaugural visit.
So, the first challenge is that track to the top, which it turns out is far more dramatic than my worst expectations. There is an aspirational 20mph speed limit in force, but in my (non-FWD) car, I top out at 7mph on the worst bits and it still feels like my bones might part company with soft tissue. Periodically, a bus carrying punters who’ve chosen not to risk their own vehicles comes blasting past me, showering rocks in its wake. I feel part shame at my own wimpiness and part glad I’m not responsible for maintaining public transport vehicles in this part of Wales.
Eventually (and it takes a while) I clear the treeline. The road surface greatly improves and there are sheep grazing at the side of the road. After the battering the car has just taken, it feels like an oasis of calm – apart from the fact the ultimate destination is a heavy rock festival.
It’s a Friday afternoon in the UK, so the 140 miles from my start point in Southampton takes a spectacularly annoying six (yes, six) hours with the result I miss the first two acts: Valhalla Awaits and The Hot Damn!. It’s a particular shame to miss the latter of those two as The Hot Damn! are an all-female band hewn from ex-members of The Amorettes and Tequila Mockingbyrd. They operate in a genre and therefore correspondingly, in a festival line-up that isn’t exactly heavy on women, so it would have been good to see them.
That said, the very next artist up is the band Kira Mac, fronted by impressive female vocalist Rhiannon Hill, and I am in time to see them. Whilst the band set up, guitarist Alex Novakovic takes some uncomfortable looking audio hits from the PA, which is acting like the world’s largest and loudest theremin every time he approaches a microphone. The technical issues delay the start of the performance, but Kira Mac take it in their stride. This is commendable as it transpires it’s only the fifth time they have ever stood in front of a live audience.
The stage itself (and there’s only one at this festival) is not huge, but is perfectly formed and it has a small runway out front, that many of the performers – including Kira Mac – use to great effect. She has a monster voice, with a level of growl which perfectly suits the band’s heavy blues/rock overtones. The single stage is a good example of what I’m soon realising is part of what Steelhouse is all about. This festival doesn’t try to do too much, but what it does, it does exceptionally well.
Something else I’m soon finding Steelhouse is all about is just how extremely welcoming everybody is. There really is a strong community spirit up here and it turns out many in the crowd have been in attendance at every Steelhouse Festival since it first appeared in 2011. Following Kira Mac, I put my bag down at a half empty table and join a queue at the bar. After a minute or two, I’m approached: “You’ve put your bag at our table”. “I’m sorry”, I say, assuming I’m being chastised. “I thought there was some room at the end”. “Well, you seem to have joined our group, and I’m getting the drinks in for our group, so what are you having?” was the reply. This little exchange was indicative of the friendliness I experienced as a solo participant throughout the whole of the Steelhouse weekend.
Local Band Scarlet Rebels are up next. They deliver huge, anthemic choruses amid an extremely catchy brand of melodic metal that has the capacity to be a commercial goldmine should the band really take off. I find their mid-afternoon set very enjoyable. The performance is helped by some lovely weather – broken blue skies with mottled clouds, a wash of glorious late afternoon/early evening sunshine and perfect temperatures.
The Dust Coda is surely one of the coolest band names around and the four-piece don’t disappoint with an equally impressive set of proper rock ‘n’ roll, seven-eighths of which features tracks from their latest record Mojo Skyline. As if to reinforce the connection, the album cover artwork is suspended behind drummer Scott Miller.
As the sun dips and the stage lighting finally starts to take hold, so does former Skin, Jagged Edge and Red White And Blues guitarist Myke Gray, resplendent in yin and yang black/white attire and matching Flying V. He’s also referencing album artwork taken from his stunning instrumental Shades Of Gray. Part way through set opener Stand Up For Rock And Roll, there’s another hiccup from the PA. From the photo pit it sounds much the same as we’re still getting Myke’s Marshall backline, but clearly something is amiss. A minute or so of shrugs and frantic activity at the side of the stage results in a huge cheer from behind me and it’s clear we’re properly back up and running.
It’s a truly fun hour peppered in the final third by Skin classics Look But Don’t Touch, Take Me Down To The River and Shine Your Light. Vocalist Dan Byrne is slight in stature but not in voice and he powers through the collection, making full use of the runway in the process. This may be the last time we see Myke Gray on a stage anytime soon and if that is the case, Myke and his band certainly know how to bow out in style.
The final hour of the day is given to hard rock and Planet Rock stalwarts Inglorious, fronted by Nathan James; a man whose hair and voice are in a constant battle to be the most luxuriant. The former is obvious from the second he takes the stage. The latter becomes so when he lets rip in the first few bars of opening number, She Won’t Let You Go. That voice, which dazzled viewers way back when on the ITV talent show Superstar, is truly amazing and was absolutely made for this kind of music – think Gillan/Coverdale at their peak. Thank God he didn’t get picked for the TV show, otherwise he’d probably now be contractually obliged to knock out Ed Sheeran covers or else condemned to being trapped in the Steve Brookstein revolving door of shame.
The band have had a few personnel changes over the years but since 2018 has been settled with two brilliant guitarists in the shape of Danny Dela Cruz and Dan Stevens. They both shine whenever James takes long pauses for breath. Nathan encourages much audience participation: the guided response in Where Are You Now? Is “We’re at Fucking Steelhouse”. We are, and we’re clearly as happy to be back in a field as the band are to be performing in front of one.
The weather is certainly something to factor for anybody coming to this festival for the first time and being 1200ft up certainly makes a difference. As a hapless rookie and on the basis it hadn’t rained for what felt like around five years, I rocked up in a tee-shirt and shorts – and nothing else. Big mistake. Whilst Friday was sublime, Saturday has awakened with overcast skies and drizzle that doesn’t want to quit and the temperature has plummeted. By late afternoon, I’m shivering so hard that a fellow festival goer kindly lends me a cagoule to keep warm.
The ambient air may be cool but the early action on the stage is anything but. You miss early festival performances at your peril given the bands likely getting their biggest breaks are the ones pulling out all the stops to impress.
Mother Vulture, a Bristolian four-piece from just over the Severn Bridge fill that spot on day two. Their press describes them as: ‘Hectic Blues Punk with a live show so chaotic it will leave you with horrific injuries’. For once, you feel it’s not outlandish hyperbole. Frontman Georgi Valentine contorts his face so much he would not look out of place as an extra in the Lord Of the Rings, whilst guitarist Brodie Maguire and bassist Chris Simpson throw themselves around with such vigour that if the audience aren’t picking up injuries, it’s quite likely the band will. Their set feels brief – partly because it is, but partly because it’s such fun to watch, the time flies by.
The rest of the afternoon is taken up by the festival middle order batsmen – some are more engaging to me than others, but there is certainly variety on offer. Anchor Lane are introduced by Planet Rock’s Darren Redick as ‘Glasgow’s answer to Rush’, which must be just about the most intimidating intro to try and live up to that has ever existed. They are like Rush in that they’re a three-piece. They’re not like Rush in that they play an alt rock/pop/punk/grunge hybrid and there is no Geddy Lee figure – at least there is no bass player.
The vocalist and occasional guitarist is Conor Gaffney. He doesn’t sound like Lee either – though some might see that as a benefit – but he is extremely engaging and leads the band through a strong seven-song set. Primary guitarist in the Alex Lifeson role is Lawrence O’Brien. He rocks a Telecaster with style and does fabulous head windmills. He’s clearly a player but to my ears is not loud enough in the mix, which is a shame. The band are on tour with The Virginmarys in the Autumn. They were a highlight for me and I’d definitely go see them again.
By a considerable margin, the most soulful band of the weekend are Cardinal Black. They’re from literally down the road, and have been around for just over a year, being a project borne out of Covid lockdown. That said, frontman Tom Hollister is keen to point out that in fact the band played the first ever Steelhouse and are now a repackaged version of an earlier incarnation, The Tom Hollister Trio – or TH3 if the ‘o’ no longer works on your keyboard. In TH3 days, Hollister played bass and sang. In revised four-piece form, Sam Williams plays bass and Hollister remains behind the microphone. His voice, which is as smooth as Galaxy chocolate, is sublime.
The band also have a major trump card in guitarist Chris Buck, who is a celebrity figure in 6-string circles with a host of awards for his playing and a YouTube channel pushing 190,000 subs. He came to the attention of many (well, me at least) in his other band Buck & Evans, and he is just about one of the most distinctive and classy guitar players I’ve ever heard. He remains fairly subdued until the closing section of song Tied Up In Blue, when he makes his way to the end of the runway in true guitar-god style and unleashes a magical solo. At the end of their set, I walk past a slack-jawed punter: “That’s it, we can go home now”, he says.
The rest of the afternoon plays out with Black Spiders delivering their brand of fast-paced and extremely catchy stoner rock whilst encouraging chants of “Fuck You Black Spiders!” fill the gaps in between. Whilst the drizzle continues to fall, The Von Hertzen Brothers bring more than a hint of prog and psychedelia into proceedings with harmony vocals and keyboards galore. Singer and guitarist Mikko von Hertzen has a permasmile on his lips, which helps to detract from the feeling I sometimes get watching them that I’m witnessing a demonstration of musical virtuosity rather than a performance. Meanwhile, brother Kristian ‘Kie’ von Hertzen is a doppelgänger for everyone’s favourite GP, Harold Shipman. I can only assume he doesn’t realise; else he’d shave off the beard.
Scandinavian rockers H.E.A.T. bring a lot of keyboards and pointy guitars as well as an inordinate amount of hair. They generate a lot of colour on an increasingly grey afternoon and there’s no denying the quality of the performance although for all the high octane energy levels on display, it’s a little too polished for me.
Graham Bonnet follows, perhaps best known for his top ten hit single Night Games and of course his spell with Ritchie Blackmore and Rainbow, which spawned the monster hits Since You’ve Been Gone and All Night Long. Obviously, all three get an airing and the latter two generate some of the loudest singing from the Steelhouse crowd I hear all weekend.
Ace Frehley was supposed to headline Saturday night, but with only around six weeks’ notice, he pulled out of all of his European festival commitments. The mighty Saxon have stepped up to fill the void and to be brutally honest, I doubt there are many here who are bitterly disappointed by the change. I’m told last time they played Steelhouse, the rain was torrential and the crowd were knee deep in mud. By the time they play this time the mist has descended far enough to reach the ground. The stage lighting illuminates the entire site with washes of colour and brings an ethereal feel but at least in mere drizzle the punters can keep their feet.
Biff Byford and the boys bring their A game in a no filler, greatest hits set of ninety minutes. Solos fly off the fretboards of Paul Quinn and Doug Scarratt while Nigel Glockler’s highly compressed double kick drums sound like a distant AK-47 with an inexhaustible supply of ammo. At regular intervals, Byford encourages the crowd to go fucking crazy. It’s everything you could ever want from this band and at the close the audience return to their tents; slightly damp, but energised by the experience.
It rained quite a bit overnight but Sunday morning was dry, if a little cloudy. But as each hour passed, there was less grey and more blue aloft, and this improvement in the weather has flushed out a much bigger crowd for today’s first band, Ashen Reach. This power metal five-piece from Merseyside has already made people take note with Homecoming, their debut album released in 2020. They make a hell of a lot more with another ‘first band on, big opportunity to take’ performance that was genuinely electrifying.
In guitarists Paddy Cummins and Joe O’Sullivan they have a pair of real talents and frontman Kyle Martyn Stanley is a revelation, alternating between leaps in the air and smashing his hands and even his head into the stage during periods of real angst. I do hope he’s alright.
These Wicked Rivers followed – a far, far better band than the name suggests, they play heavy southern-influenced blues rock with riffs I still find rattling around my head for some time after the event. They look fantastic as well. Both singer John Hartwell and guitarist Arran Day sport big hollow bodied Gretch’s and the whole band come equipped with an abundance of facial hair. In fact, they look and at times sound so much like that little ‘ole band from Texas that when Hartwell addresses the crowd, it’s a genuine surprise the drawl is East Midlands (they’re from Derby) and not Houston.
Hartwell is also wearing a pair of mirrored shades; a wet dream for any music photographer at a festival and they get my vote for that decision alone. These Wicked Rivers are another takeaway and personal favourite from my three days at Steelhouse.
Birmingham four-piece King Herd are up next. I have to say I am left largely unmoved by the performance, which I find perplexing because I absolutely love their singles Remedy and Medicine, both of which display assured song writing and fantastic vocals from frontman David Taylor. Live, Taylor does angst, but it revolves around merely snarling into a microphone and when you’ve just witnessed someone else repeatedly smashing their head into the floor, I guess it feels like it comes up a little short. That said, a performance should be judged on its own merits and not by comparison to another and on this basis, King Herd definitely need to be seen again.
The clouds continue to part for Green Lung’s turn on the big stage. The band play stoner rock with a few proggy overtones chucked in. It’s well appreciated, as every act is. By now, the mid-afternoon sun is scorching and I’m rapidly turning into a bacon sandwich. It’s hard to believe I was so cold the day yesterday.
Diamond Head and Orange Goblin perform next. The former are always a lot of fun. Straw haired guitarist Brian Tatler is the only original member but it doesn’t really matter given the band has been going so long that even the latest incarnation has a nucleus which has been intact for 20 years. ‘New’ (he’s been there for a mere eight of those) Danish vocalist Rasmus Bom Andersen is extremely engaging, knows how to use the runway and whips the crowd to good effect.
Orange Goblin have been going a while themselves, though with way fewer changes of personnel. They play an unrelenting, heavy set of tunes. Frontman Ben Ward knows how to work the crowd: “Let’s get you people at the back out of your chairs. Then let’s see the chairs above your heads. If you get really carried away you can start throwing them about.” No chairs are launched. I think he’s overestimated the Steelhouse faithful’s capacity for anarchy.
Only two acts left now in what has been a thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyable three days. The first is Michael Schenker, the German Flying V maestro of Scorpions, UFO and of course, Michael Schenker Group fame. The front of the stage is in full sun and it must be warm under his trade mark fur hat and goggles. Schenker is celebrating 50 years in music and his playing is as fluid as ever. He demonstrates this during an extended solo in the UFO tune Rock Bottom, where muted, staccato notes compete for stage time with his beaming smile.
Regular vocalist Ronnie Romero of Rainbow fame is not on the European leg of the tour and his place is taken by Robin McAuley. It’s a natural fit. McAuley was with Schenker for seven years in the ’80s/’90s, during which time the M in MSG was repurposed in his honour. He is clearly loving it out there; his smile nearly as wide as Schenker’s. In fact, we’re all loving it out there; and none more so than when the old UFO tunes get played. The set closes with six consecutive ones. It’s another stand out performance.
As Schenker finishes, the sun finally loses its battle with the horizon. I’m struggling to believe how I’d been so hot a few hours ago. The skies are clear and it’s now bloody freezing. It sure gets cold quickly up here. There’s only one opportunity left to warm up the crowd and that’s with Sunday night headliner, Europe. We wait a little longer than expected as there’s clearly a minor technical hiccup and the band are around ten minutes late. The intro starts, Joey Tempest comes out and then has to fill as the minor technical hiccup continues.
He does a little Q & A with the crowd and, to be fair, he’s excellent at it; completely at ease in his environment despite things going slightly awry. “Steelhouse, man you look good!”, he says. “But not as good as we do!” The intro starts again, and this time we’re off and running.
Europe have been around since 1979, though they took an 11-year hiatus though the 1990s and early noughties. In that time they’ve released 11 studio albums and had a string of hit singles. One of the biggest is Rock the Night, which gets an early airing and the crowd waste no time in finding their voice.
If there’s one thing synonymous with ‘80s hair metal, it’s the power ballad. Obviously, Europe are well represented in the genre and we get a selection tonight. Superstitious starts with a clavinet homage to Stevie Wonder. Carrie has obligatory waving of arms and enthusiastic singing from the crowd. Tempest straps on an acoustic guitar whilst Mic Michaeli unleashes an expansive string section from behind one of his many synths for Open Your Heart.
The band are impeccable showmen. Joey struts up and down the runway, invariably with microphone stand in hand, twirling it like a high school majorette. Guitarist John Norum, who quit the band at the height of their fame because there were too many keyboards (and to be fair, he had a point), lays down tasty solo after tasty solo.
We get to the end of the set with one song conspicuous by its absence. Of course, they finish with The Final Countdown, the tune which made them famous the world over and which peaked as a number one single in 25 countries. Hundreds of people in the crowd play along to the keyboard riff with kazoos rapidly produced from their pockets. I had been wondering why I’d seen so many kazoos today; I’m clearly not up on the etiquette at live Europe gigs.
There’s an impressive firework display at the end and then just the small matter of egressing the site. It takes nearly as long to reach the bottom of the valley as it does to reach the Severn Bridge, but getting the tracking done on the car is a small price to pay for a fantastic weekend. I’ve met some brilliant people and seen some truly excellent bands. Would I return to Steelhouse? You bet I would. Rock ‘n’ roll on next year.
Steelhouse Festival 2023 runs from 28th to 30th July. Tickets are available to buy now here.
All words and photos by Simon Reed. His website Musical Pictures is here and you can visit his author profile for Louder Than War here. He tweets as @musicalpix
Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment.