Orange Goblin
London, The Dome
Ben Ward and co. return – in front of a real, live audience – with yet another new “Make some fucking noise” normal.
Words: Polly Glass
★ We’re going to a gig –a real one. With a real, beer-drinking, fist-pumping audience. After multiple postponements, 15-plus months and a ton of Zoom calls, Orange Goblin’s 25th-anniversary fiesta – and bassist Martyn Millard’s swansong with the band – is finally going ahead. It’s exciting. It’s surreal.
“I think I felt pretty much every emotion possible,” singer Ben Ward chuckles over the phone post-gig. “We’ve done this for twentysix years now, and I don’t think I’ve felt quite as nervous as I did for these shows.”
The whole business of returning to live music after such a long, unprecedented break raises many questions. What will it be like? How does one write a live review? Is it possible to spend hours in something that doesn’t have an elasticated waistband – oh god, can I still fit into my jeans?! And will Ward be able to go a full show without urging the crowd to, like, “get in the fucking pit”’ or “go fucking crazy” – both of which, under social-distancing guidelines, are clearly not supposed to happen?