OVER THE MERSEY
Music isn’t solely sound. It’s the people who create it, the heartbeats that beat in time with the rhythm they produce, and the subcultures and fashion that are born in the wake of this creative explosion.
It’s the way we interpret each song, the memories they soundtrack and the wounds they heal. It’s ‘the songs that made you cry and the songs that saved your life.’ The culture of music is as important as the sound that crackles out of the speakers, and that’s what we’ll be exploring. Whilst mods, rockers and hippies no longer exist in the intensity they once did (ripping up deckchairs and fighting on the beaches), fights are still taking place.
Merseyside’s most recent cultural fight can be summed up in four words: The Future is Birkenhead. Located on the “wrong” side of the Mersey, the Wirral is overlooked, seen as a grey zone rather than a community full of the same energy and determination that Liverpool had only a decade ago. With huge names beginning to note Birkenhead on their tour posters, eyes are shifting to the other side.
And what better place to celebrate the weird and the wonderful than the home of the overlooked sibling? The one who was left to their own devices and created a culture that thrived off being the “other”. It’s this exact energy that brought us The Coral, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, She Drew the Gun, Tokky Horror and many more. Those who chose to proudly say they were from the Wirral, rather than claim kinship to a place that wasn’t their home.
It’s a free-for-all; it doesn’t matter what’s in fashion or what the last person did. The people who succeeded were the ones who forged their own path, playing with genres unknown to the fellas in the pub and making of it what they please. Whilst some have gone on to become household names, selling out venues at prices their community couldn’t begin to fathom, others thrive in obscurity. They live in the underworlds of Punk and Garage, creating music in basements and bedrooms and rearing their heads once in a blue moon to blow your mind.
This didn’t begin when Future Yard opened its doors. That is not the origin story of the Wirral revival. It began once those who had left found themselves gravitating back home, determined to mold their community through their experiences. One of whom, Matty Hogarth, is a fine example of what it is to live and breathe music. Donning the ‘Wirral is Weird’ hat that he’s still yet to monetise, it’s undeniable where his heart lays. Future Yard’s Lead Booker from 2020-23, he reflects on his favourite memory at the location:
“Caroline were one of the first shows we put on at Future Yard… I got to sit on the floor and just take it in as eight musicians played in a circle in the middle of the room. Then we piled back to me mum’s house and drank herbal tea, before crashing out in every spare nook and cranny of the two-up-two-down terrace. I remember lying on the kitchen floor with no pillows and a towel as a blanket, but feeling pretty content.”
It’s these unexpected moments that make the Wirral what it is. In walking down a residential street, through the dark metal alley doors and into a patch of land. It’s fearing you’re trespassing when you’ve actually returned home. Into a space Unusual Art Sourcing have filled with colours, salad spinner art creations and a tiny shed, that makes for a perfect, intimate live music venue. It’s in these gaps and crevices that culture blossoms. They’re vines on old brickwork. Making something beautiful again.
It’s a regeneration project at a scale most would shy away from. Where the likes of Dan Davies return home and create the Wirral they only dreamt of as a kid. Bringing music, records and art to the corners of ordinary people’s streets.
These hubs of art, music and creativity are beginning to ripple, with people following suit and opening ‘the next big thing’. Live music is seeping into coffee shops, breweries and print studios. The haemorrhaging of talent has been stemmed and the energy and ambition is beginning to heal the space in which they inhabit.
And this will spread. It will grow larger and soon we’ll have a forest of colourful characters. That’s the thing with music cultures; they don’t stop when the song ends.
Check out more of Megan’s work here.
Written by Megan Walder (she/her)
Photos by Jamie Maxfield
