Shed Seven Shine Bright in a Yorkshire Homecoming for the Ages

★★★★★ (5/5)

SHED SEVEN PERFORMING AT T.K. MAXX PRESENTS… SCARBOROUGH OPEN AIR THEATRE 2025
PHOTOCREDIT: JOHN HAYHURST

The Scarborough Open Air Theatre, perched in Northstead Manor Gardens with its 8,000‑capacity bowl, has been a jewel in Yorkshire’s concert crown since its reopening in 2010. This years brilliant summer season had already kicked off earlier in the week with The Corrs and Gary Barlow playing to capacity crowds.

On this balmy June evening, the sold out crowd poured in from 6 pm—families with young kids experiencing their first gig, die‑hard local York(shire) fans in 30th Anniversary T-Shirts, and groups of old mates clutching drinks. A gentle breeze from the North Sea brushed their cheeks as the stage lights bathed the venue in soft gold, signalling a proper summer’s night ahead.

Tonight, Shed Seven were set to headline in their home county, just down the A64 from their beloved hometown of York, and the excitement was as much about pride as it was nostalgia. Before they took to the stage though, two heavyweight supports gave the night a decent build-up.

Kicking off the night with swagger and warmth, Cast had the early-evening sun sending a haze across the front of the stage, but that didn’t stop them delivering a polished 40 mins of 90s jangle-rock. Frontman John Power’s vocals—always confident, always melodic—cut through the open air, immediately engaging the crowd with openers Sandstorm and Fine Time.

Highlights included a stirring rendition of Walkaway which coaxed the first of the evening’s many sing-alongs. Fans close to the stage swayed gently, but as the set neared its end, the atmosphere deepened: the upbeat guitar attack in Alright had everyone dancing. It wasn’t just nostalgia; Cast brought a freshness to their performance, they could have done another 20 mins but this was all about warming a crowd with the hits, a practice if you like for the Oasis reunion shows later this year.

Jake Bugg’s set should have been a moment to savour. But from the second he stepped on stage, something felt a little off. Dressed in black, eyes often cast down, he moved through his songs with a sense of obligation rather than passion. It wasn’t that the performance was technically lacking—his voice still carried that distinctive, nasal rasp and his guitar playing was sharp—but emotionally, it just didn’t land.

He spoke with warmth in-between the songs, but it was hard to tell whether it was nerves, apathy, or something else entirely, but his detachment was impossible to ignore. He stood mostly still, rarely making eye contact with the crowd, and at times seemed almost irritated to be there.

That said, when he launched into Lightning Bolt something clicked. The energy shifted immediately. Maybe it was muscle memory, or maybe even Jake couldn’t resist the sheer stomp of that riff, but the performance tightened and for a few minutes, it felt alive. The crowd responded instantly, clapping and bouncing along, and for the first time in the set, Bugg looked even slightly engaged—still unsmiling, but present at least.

Formed in 1990 in my hometown of York, Shed Seven rose to prominence as leading lights of Britpop, carving out their niche with anthemic guitar-pop. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen them, from early gigs in pubs like The Winning Post to Fibbers and York Barbican, then more recently filling Leeds Arena. Last year saw not one but two UK No. 1 albums—A Matter of Time and Liquid Gold—cementing the comeback, it crowned their 30th anniversary celebrations. So it came as little surprise that their Scarborough appearance was billed as their “Biggest ever headline show in their home county”.

Shed Seven delivered a career-spanning two-hour performance, Rick Witter was in fine form—swaggering across the stage with a wide grin, working the crowd like a frontman born to do it. The band looked sharp, sounded tight, and seemed genuinely thrilled to be performing in front of a massive Yorkshire crowd in such a special setting.

Opening strong with Room in My House, which immediately got the whole audience singing along. Early tracks like Speakeasy supplied that driving energy that first endeared them to fans. A delightful surprise arrived mid‑set: their band cover of The Smiths’ There Is a Light That Never Goes Out the crowd’s arms waving sky‑high as Witter crooned the iconic Morrissey chorus with conviction.

When they launched into Dolphin it felt like a bolt of raw electricity surged through the crowd. It came midway through the set, and from the moment Paul Banks struck the opening chords, there was a shift in mood—something darker, more urgent. This wasn’t one of the breezier singalongs; this was one of their first singles, a deeper cut for the fans who’ve been there since the beginning, and it hit like a statement of intent.

High Hopes followed and became an early emotional peak—Witter’s delivery raw and full of yearning, while the crowd lit up with thousands of arms raised and voices united. That song has always had a certain magic, but here, under open skies with faces full of memory and meaning, it truly soared.

Then Bully Boy followed with anthemic force, the guitars cutting through the summer night as the crowd roared back “I’ll fight you to the death”. It was one of those moments where the energy was perfectly balanced between stage and audience, like both had waited years for this exact gig to happen.

Guest vocalist Rowetta’s appearance on In Ecstasy brought a bit of Manchester magic—a soaring vocal duet refracted through the open air. Rick Witter’s reflections between songs—gratitude, humour, stories of local Yorkshire roots—made the show feel like a heartfelt family reunion rather than a mere concert. He even read out a few dedications and joked about how his careers officer at school told him to get a proper job rather than playing in a band with his two best mates. He’s in his mid fifties now, and still in a band with those same two best mates – “So f**k you Mr Careers Officer”.

With Father’s Day just around the corner, he dedicated Going For Gold to all the dads in the crowd—past, present, and soon-to-be. As the song began, it took on a weight it doesn’t always carry. But the real surprise came in the extended outro, when the band seamlessly shifted into a cracking version of Elvis Presley’s Suspicious Minds It wasn’t just a gimmick—it sounded fantastic. Witter leaned into it, channelling just the right amount of Elvis swagger without going full tribute act.

The encore was something else entirely. As the lights dimmed, Paul Banks took a seat at a piano. A soft spotlight lit him and Rick as he began playing the opening notes of Better Days, this time a strangely moving performance that had the whole crowd laughing and swaying. It was theatrical, unexpected, and perfectly judged—another moment that elevated the night beyond just a gig into something genuinely special.

With the band back at full strength, they launched into Disco Down which turned the place into an all-out dance party. The beat was irresistible, and the band played it with such joy and abandon that it felt like the seats in the venue might give way to all the movement. Everyone was bouncing, shouting lyrics back, and completely immersed in the music.

And then, of course, the grand finale: Chasing Rainbows The first chords triggered a wave of cheers, and by the time Witter started singing, the entire place was belting it out as one. Phones were in the air, arms wrapped around shoulders, and the emotion in this amphitheatre was almost overwhelming. That song is pure catharsis, and tonight it felt like it belonged to everyone in the crowd. A perfect ending.

Throughout the entire set, Shed Seven played like a band with nothing to prove but everything to give. They were vibrant, cheeky, emotional, and totally in sync with their audience. You could feel their love for the place, the people, and the songs that have carried them all these years. It wasn’t just a great show—it was a joyful, heartfelt triumph, and one that will live long in the memory of everyone lucky enough to be there.