On Tuesday last week I went with a friend to Singapore’s Foo Chow Hall to attend a gig by the legendary Manchester band the Happy Mondays. The Mondays helped popularise a cheerily trippy, dance-rock sound that was dubbed ‘Madchester’ – a reflection of the fact that many of its proponents originated in the same north-of-England city: see also the Inspiral Carpets, James, 808 State and, most notably, the Stone Roses. In fact, the Happy Mondays and Stone Roses were to the Madchester sound what Nirvana and Pearl Jam were to grunge.
I love the Happy Mondays but I have to concede they only ever made three albums of note and those were recorded a long time ago: the memorably titled Squirrel and G-Man Twenty-Four Hour Party People Plastic Face Can’t Smile (White Out) (1987), Bummed (1988) and Pills ‘n’ Thrills and Bellyaches (1990). I think that last album is superb, consisting of classic tracks from start to finish. But the, shall we say, hedonistic nature of the band, and the chaos that seemingly surrounded them, meant the Happy Mondays would never reach those heights again. In the 36 years since, they’ve put out two more albums, to mixed reviews, and ticket sales for their concerts have depended on the nostalgia and affection of their fans – fans who, these days, are getting long in the tooth. I should know. I’m one of them.
In fact, the last time I saw the Happy Mondays live was back in 1999 and even then they seemed a legacy act. That was at Scotland’s premier summer music festival, the now-defunct T in the Park, and the Mondays headlined Stage 2 on the festival’s second and final day. By that point I was well-lubricated, but I do remember their set being brilliant even if it didn’t offer much musical innovation. The next day, at work, a couple of my colleagues who’d also been at T in the Park, in a soberer condition, reacted to my report of seeing the Happy Mondays at Stage 2 with horror. “What?” they exclaimed. “You ventured over there?” That year’s festival had taken place close to Edinburgh and the crowd at the Happy Mondays’ set had all resembled characters from Irvine Welsh’s Trainspotting (1992). I guess I’d been too high-spirited to notice.
It was a contrast 27 years later to see the band in the saner surroundings of Singapore, performing before an audience of comfortably well-off Western expatriates – nearly all of whom were a bit on the wrinkly side. My friend, who’s in his early forties, must have been one of the youngest people on the premises.
The line-up isn’t quite the Happy Mondays one of old, but it’s not far off it. There’s cussed singer-songwriter (and tambourine-tapper) Shaun Ryder, long-term guitarist Mark Day, long-term drummer Gaz Whelan and the talismanic dancer and maracas-shaker Bez, who is surely history’s greatest example of a band-member who doesn’t really play anything and is just there to help the vibe. Keyboardist Dan Broad has been on board since 2008. Sadly not around anymore is bassist and Ryder’s brother Paul, who died four years ago. Their bassist in 2026 is Mikey Shine, who was originally involved with the band for half-a-dozen years in the noughties.
Female vocalist Rowetta, who’d been a mainstay of the Happy Mondays since 1990, left the band in 2024. Her departure was followed by acrimony a year later when she alleged that Shaun Ryder had punched her during an altercation in 2000 – something that Ryder strongly denies. Singing in her place on the current tour is Firouzeh Berry, whom I believe is also Bez’s wife.
This year the band is celebrating the 35th anniversary of Pills ‘n’ Thrills and Bellyaches and thus we were treated to all ten tracks from that album performed in chronological order. The remainder of the set contained several songs from their earlier two albums, plus the haunting and mighty dance track Hallelujah from the 1989 EP of the same name.
Okay, let’s address the elephant in the room. Shaun Ryder’s voice was never a thing of beauty and nowadays it’s well past whatever prime it once had. His singing was rough, even sepulchral at times. I occasionally found myself imagining I wasn’t listening to the Happy Mondays at all but to another Manchester band, the Fall, who were famous for the growly stream-of-consciousness vocals of their late founder and singer-songwriter Mark E. Smith. Well, it sounded like a version of the Fall with some cool dance grooves.
The issue was particularly noticeable during the first couple of songs when the front-of-house engineer hadn’t yet got the balance right at the mix desk and Ryder’s voice wasn’t just prominent but drowning out the rest of the band. At least Ryder was open about his vocal shortcomings, for example, groaning before one of the more melodic numbers that he’d be forced to attempt to sing more. Firouzeh Berry’s voice, meanwhile, had to do some heavy lifting to compensate.
Still, some songs emerged relatively unscathed. The band delivered a fine rendition of Hallelujah late on and, thankfully, my all-time favourite Mondays tune, Loose Fit from Pills ‘n’ Thrills and Bellyaches, was one of the evening’s highlights.
Bez was as spritely as ever. Indeed, cavorting about the stage, he looked more mobile and agile than he had any right to be, considering his age (62) and his long history of reckless and excessive living. During the Covid-19 pandemic, I chuckled when I heard he’d decided to become a fitness instructor and, to help folk stay healthy during lockdown, was putting exercise videos on YouTube under the title Buzzin’ with Bez. But this fitness lark obviously hasn’t done the old bugger any harm.
So, due to one key component of the band sounding like an asthmatic frog, it was a scrappy evening – but istill a fun one. The audience certainly enjoyed themselves. The fact that many punters had turned up wearing identical Happy Mondays T-shirts, emblazoned with the 2026 tour logo, and that prior to the gig they’d been sinking pints in pubs along Tyrwhitt Road outside, gave the proceedings the rowdy air of a football match – albeit one where the whole crowd supported the same team.
Indeed, it seemed appropriate that the venue was Foo Chow Hall, a place that frequently hosts tournaments by Singapore Pro-Wrestling (SPW). Just as the Happy Mondays are a bit lacking in musical finesse these days, so pro-wrestling is hardly dripping with proper, competitive sporting integrity. But you can’t deny that both serve up plenty of entertainment.
