Any music festival that had risen from a vague idea, scribbled down on the back of a cigarette packet one drunken night in the back room of a pub, into a five-day, “in the city style” celebration involving eight venues and over 60 original bands and which had negotiated floods, recessions, lockdowns and even the growing apathy towards those who chose to play their own songs, should be the stuff of legend. The Swindon Shuffle has done all these things yet remains a niche event. Don’t get me wrong, it is always well attended. Still, even in its hometown, a rather average, ex-railway town in the West of England, (apparently, the town isn’t twinned with anywhere but it does have a suicide pact with Gdansk,) most outside of the music fraternity are largely unaware of it…

Read the full review at The Big Takeover

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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.

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