When New Century Hall opened its doors in 1963, it was intended to be far more than simply another performance space. Built as part of the Co-operative movement’s ambitious New Century House development, the Grade II-listed venue was designed as a place where people could come together for culture, entertainment and community.
Over the decades it has welcomed legendary names including Jimi Hendrix, The Rolling Stones and Tina Turner, its survived Manchester’s ever-changing musical landscape and even played its part in the city’s acid house years. Today, following extensive restoration work, New Century Hall remains one of Manchester’s most distinctive live music venues, complete with its iconic sprung wooden dance floor and unmistakable mid-century character. As it turned out, that famous dance floor was about to enjoy one of its busiest nights in recent memory.
Whilst I may not study setlists ready to rhyme them off in my reviews, I do very much admire the production, sound, and as a photographer obviously the lighting. I don’t stand quietly at the back near the bar making notes, choosing instead to be in the thick of it because that’s where the best atmosphere and experience of the evening is to be had, and when the night is done I tend to drive home musicless, speaking into my phone’s voice recording app, attempting as best I can to describe how that night’s live music made me think and feel. Dutty Moonshine Big Band’s appearance at New Century Hall was one of those occasions where the overwhelming feeling wasn’t just one of admiration, but of pure, unfiltered joy.
Before the headline act could get the party started, Tankus were handed the unenviable task of opening proceedings. Within twenty minutes it was obvious they were exactly the right band for the job. Their performance carried shades of Ian Dury & The Blockheads, mixing groove, humour and a healthy dose of eccentricity into a set that immediately connected with the audience. More than simply warming the room up, Tankus established the mood for the evening. By the time they left the stage smiles were everywhere and people were already beginning to move to the music. They proved to be the perfect support act, not because they sounded anything like Dutty Moonshine Big Band, but because they understood their role. Their job was to get people smiling, loosen the crowd up and create an atmosphere where anything felt possible. By the end of their set, New Century Hall felt primed and ready for whatever came next.
Trying to explain Dutty Moonshine Big Band to somebody who has never seen them perform live is surprisingly difficult. On paper it sounds simple enough. There’s a brass section, electronic beats, vocals and enough musicians on stage to make introductions feel like the opening ceremony of a small sporting event, yet listing the individual ingredients doesn’t really explain the experience, because all the magic lies in what happens when all those elements come together.
From the moment the band took to the stage, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Looking around the venue, it became increasingly difficult to find anyone standing still. This wasn’t a room politely nodding along in appreciation. People were dancing. Really dancing. The sort of dancing that leaves dignity abandoned somewhere near the merch stand and replaces it with a determination to enjoy every possible second of the evening.
That’s not ideal when you’re trying to take photographs. Years of shooting live music have me looking for moments, trying to anticipate movement and concentrate on capturing atmosphere. What nobody ever teaches you is how to resist joining in when faced with a brass powered party taking place directly in front of you. Throughout the evening I found myself engaged in an internal battle between photographer and gig-goer, and even now I’m not entirely sure which side won.
I’ve photographed countless talented musicians over the years, but there was something refreshingly genuine about the energy coming from this particular group. The musicians constantly fed off each other’s enthusiasm, creating the impression that they were enjoying the evening every bit as much as the audience. That chemistry extended far beyond the music itself. Throughout the set, spontaneous dance routines seemed to break out across the stage. One musician would throw in a dance move and, almost instantly, the musicians standing nearby would join in. It didn’t appear rehearsed and it certainly wasn’t choreographed. Nobody seemed concerned about who started it, or whether everyone was following the same routine. One moment a trumpet player would start a ridiculous shuffle, then a sax player would join in, followed by pretty much anybody within dancing distance. A few bars later somebody else would invent something entirely different and the whole process would begin again. Watching it unfold time after time was one of my evening’s genuine highlights. The sense of fun was massively infectious. Rather than a collection of individual performers sharing a stage, Dutty Moonshine Big Band felt like a group of friends who simply happened to be exceptionally talented musicians. Their enjoyment spread rapidly through the venue, helping create an atmosphere where smiling became virtually unavoidable.
Perhaps the most telling illustration came courtesy of New Century Hall’s famous sprung dance floor. Such was the enthusiasm upstairs that an acoustic performer elsewhere in the building reportedly struggled to compete with the sound of hundreds of dancing feet hammering against the wooden floorboards above. Think about that for a moment. Not the sound system. Not the drums. Not the brass section. The audience themselves had become loud enough to dominate the building.
The band’s appreciation for the crowd was obvious throughout the evening. At one point, frontman Michael Rack (AKA Mr Dutty Moonshine himself) stopped to tell New Century Hall that Manchester had produced the loudest voices he’d heard anywhere on the tour so far. He joked that the city had set a bar that future venues might struggle to reach. Looking around a room full of people singing, dancing and refusing to stand still, it felt less like crowd banter and more like a statement of fact. It was hard to argue with his assessment. Between the singing, dancing and the constant movement across New Century Hall’s famous sprung floor, Manchester wasn’t just watching the show. Manchester had become part of it.
Beyond the performance itself, one of the most refreshing moments came when the band spoke about remaining self-funded and self-promoted. They discussed their preference for independent venues and their decision to avoid venues that take a percentage of merchandise sales. In an increasingly difficult climate for touring musicians, it was encouraging to hear a successful act speak so openly about supporting the independent music ecosystem that helped create them. It also helped explain why the evening felt so authentic. Nothing about the show felt manufactured or corporate. Instead, it felt like a band that genuinely believed in what they were doing performing for an audience that genuinely believed in them.
There were costume changes too, plenty of them. Enough, at one point, to make me wonder wether Abi Nyxx had somehow been recruited as wardrobe consultant. Cher’s title as undisputed champion of on-stage outfit changes probably remains safe for now, but there were certainly moments where she might have at least needed to pick up the pace, yet when I think back on the evening, it isn’t the costume changes, the individual songs or even the photographs waiting patiently on my memory cards that stand out most clearly. What remains is the feeling of the night itself. The memory of Tankus winning over the crowd before the headline act had even arrived. The sight of wall to wall smiles throughout New Century Hall. The thunder of dancing feet echoing around one of Manchester’s most historic music venues, and the growing suspicion that the musicians on stage were enjoying themselves every bit as much as the audience, if not more.
I managed one final photograph moments before the band took their bow. Looking across the stage, nobody appeared ready for the evening to end. Nobody looked like they were clocking off after a shift. Instead, they looked like a group of friends who had just spent two hours throwing the best party in Manchester and couldn’t quite believe they got paid for it. Judging by the reaction inside New Century Hall, neither could anybody else.
