Well, where to start? This is my second time reviewing Richard Ashcroft, the first was his Manchester show at Coop Live last November. 2025 was a turning point for RA. Night after night he walked into stadiums as Oasis’s special guest on the Live 25 tour and walked out to rapturous, fullstadium ovations. His own arena dates sold out months ahead, London’s O2 vanished in minutes, and extra shows had to be added just to keep up with the demand. The man is in a golden era, right now and everyone knows it.
Anyone who has followed him knows the basics. Richard formed The Verve in 1990, fronted them as singer, songwriter and guitarist, then stepped into his solo career in 2000. I’m not giving you any more history than that. Go fill your boots on Google. All you really need to know is that he is a musical genius in his field.
His “field” today, however, was Westonbirt Arboretum in Gloucestershire. A bit of a trek from sunny Stoke, but worth every mile. Two and a half hours of driving to the soulsoothing sounds of RA in the summer sun. What more could you ask for?
I covered a Forest Live gig last year at Cannock Chase and was treated like royalty. One of the organisers gave me a full tour of the site and they were so accommodating, I genuinely wondered if they had mistaken me for someone far more important in the photography world. Meanwhile, I was privately battling imposter syndrome and trying not to look like I’d snuck in through the back gate. Their hospitality stuck with me. And Westonbirt matched it with outstanding customer service, a VIP pass, and the freedom to shoot to my heart’s content. Forest Live really are the flagship festival organisers.
Parking was a breeze, attendants were smiley, and the walk to the stage was simple. You wander through those long arboretum avenues and suddenly there is a stage glowing between the branches with Apollo Junction on the backdrop. Gutted I’d missed them, but punters were chatting about how good they were as I weaved through the crowd. The capacity is 10,000, and Westonbirt has become a summer ritual, showcasing the likes of Elbow, Sting, Snow Patrol, Rag’n’Bone Man, Paloma Faith, all have delivered sets here. This year’s run brings Fatboy Slim, Deacon Blue, UB40 with Ali Campbell, Rick Astley and finishing off with tonight’s very own Richard Ashcroft. Some of those artists rocked up at my “local forests” like Cannock and Delamere, but RA wasn’t coming north this time. No problem. If Richard won’t go to the mountain, then the mountain must come to Richard.
As I meandered through the growing crowds, families in deck chairs, kids tucking into festival treats, pints glinting in the sun, my heart warmed at how many parents had brought their children to experience proper live music. In my opinion, introducing your child to live music should be up there with teaching them maths and English. A young lad tapped me on the shoulder to ask how I got into photography, which was lovely. While he was talking, a very familiar intro was kicking in. ‘This sounds like Club Foot’ I thought. I apologised for my abrupt exit and immediately channelled my inner Usain Bolt, sprinting across the turf. By the time I reached the photo-pit, I looked up and saw ‘Tom Meighan’ was blazing across the backdrop, giving me cause to smile like a Cheshire cat. I was absolutely in my element. What a night for supreme frontmen!!! Two heavyweights gracing the same stage on the same evening.
TOM MEIGHAN
I first shot Tom in my hometown of Stoke when he toured Raw, just him and his guitarist. It was a phenomenal heart-warming show, full of strippedback reversions of Kasabian crowdpleasers and Tom’s solo work. Stunning in its simplicity. Afterwards, I was asked if I’d be interested in shooting the full band when they played Birmingham, an opportunity I jumped at without hesitation. That gig remains one of the best I’ve ever covered, so seeing them all again today felt like a proper treat.
As Tom sauntered on with that untameable charisma of his, I was reminded exactly why I enjoy him so much as a performer. There are very few modern rock singers knocking about these days who can match his intensity, his enthusiasm, or that electrifying presence he carries so effortlessly. He enters a stage and the whole crowd feels his gratitude, just happy to be playing to his dedicated following. He wasted no time kicking things off with Club Foot. The field erupted. Then Shoot the Runner and Empire landed loud and irresistible. People were on their feet, airpunching whether they wanted to or not. Forest Live is usually a very civilised affair, full of deck chairs, picnic blankets, cheese boards, olives, and whatever middleEngland snacks people bring to feel fancy. Tom clocked it instantly.
“I want everyone to put down their cheese boards and Mediterranean meats, and whatever other shit you’re eating. Get up and dance!”
Everyone laughed but they obeyed him like he’d flicked a switch. That’s the thing about Tom. His enthusiasm is infectious. His appreciation for his audience is unmatched. He doesn’t want to perform for people, he performs with them. And then came Fire, the moment everyone was waiting for. Tom grabbed the mic stand, extended it out over the crowd like a conductor’s baton, cueing them to take over their part. Most of the field was up by then, with only a handful of determined cheesenibblers still anchored to the comforts of their picnic. They looked like they were trying desperately not to be converted, but Tom Meighan is not a man you resist easily. I was hoping for the raunchy ‘High on you’ but it didn’t materialise, but that’s ok. You can’t have everything when you have a back catalogue of these many bangers. it was hard to stay disappointed for long.
He closed with Shout It Out, a proper roofraiser, and almost before you realised it, the set was done. An unexpected (for me anyway) whirlwind of energy, sweat, laughter, nostalgia, and gratitude. Tom offered heartfelt thanks to everyone who continues to support him through every chapter of his life. What a genius choice for a special guest. It is true what they say – No Tom, No Party. The perfect fuel for Richards’s fire.
RICHARD ASHCROFT
Ringing out across the field to warm up the audience for Richards walk-on was John Lennon’s Bring on the Lucie (Freda Peeple) taken from his Mind Games album. Richard covered this himself at the legendary Abbey Road Studios, released as a stand alone single in 2021. I indulged in taking some crowd shots as I could see a wave of arms raise in the air, clapping. I turned around as he strutted on, clapping his fans with grateful applause. He has an unmistakable presence. Just the slender silhouette, the stance, the RayBans, and the confidence of a musical genius who knows his catalogue has shaped British music for nearly three decades. When he opened with Weeping Willow and that restless Verveera pulse rolled across the field, I wondered if the evening would be built on legacy.
Sonnet softened the crowd into a warm soft sway, some looking up at the sky as they sang. He has this rare ability to make thousands of people feel like they’re sharing a single intimate moment. His voice has a gorgeous livedin ache to it that can make a song feel fragile and defiant at the same time. Upliftingly sad. A musical paradoxe that only truly gifted writers can pull off, because it requires holding two emotional truths at the same time without letting either collapse under the weight of the other. Sad songs that sound uplifting for me are the most human songs of all. Life isn’t one emotion or the other, it’s both. Pain and joy. Loss and hope. Darkness and colour. In my book, RA is probably one of the most emotionally fluent writers of his time. Crying whilst shooting isn’t a great look, but you know what? I don’t care. If I want to have a mini emotional breakdown mid-shutter, that’s my business.
Music Is Power flipped the energy, loosening the field into a groovesoaked sway. RA settled neatly into the track with the confidence of a preacher. A Song for the Lovers brought the night back into cinematic stillness. One of the most intriguing choices of the night came with So Sister, a Bside from the Alone With Everybody era. A track that never enjoyed mainstream spotlight but has long been a favourite among dedicated fans including myself. Hearing it live felt like a deliberate nod to those who’ve followed Ashcroft beyond the hits. The band gave it a richer, more textured arrangement. Soulful, understated, and delivered with effortless ease. To be honest, it made me wonder why it wasn’t elevated to album status in the first place.
Then came Break the Night with Colour, washing the stage in golds and blues, RA standing centre with his guitar did something I never expected. He slips off his Ray Bans and then starts playing slide with them! For a chap who practically treats those shades as part of his anatomy, seeing them removed was quite exciting. I’ll explain why before I sound like some weirdo (it might be too late). As a photographer, my instinct is always to go straight for the eyes. For me, they’re the truth of a person, the thing that tells you everything before they speak. The body can posture, pose, perform. Eyes don’t. Eyes confess. Ashcroft’s eyes are usually hidden, guarded behind those lenses that have become part of his mythology. So when he lifted them away, even for a heartbeat, it felt strangely intimate. A glimpse of the man behind the legend. A flash of vulnerability from someone who rarely lets the world see it. It was a tiny moment, but it was enough for me to celebrate when I captured it. Sometimes, the smallest reveal can feel more profound than the loudest chorus.
The emotional centrepiece of the night arrived with The Drugs Don’t Work. The shift was immediate as conversations fade and bodies turn toward the stage, people bracing themselves for the inevitable lump in the throat. Ashcroft sang it with the usual flawless softness that felt as fragile as ever, leaving me in floods (for a number of personal reasons). Possibly one of the most beautiful songs ever written.
He lifted everyone back up with Lucky Man, dedicating it to his beautiful wife and confessing to the crowd that she’d “taught him a bit of class” over the last thirty years. Then he started talking openly about his journey through music, how his teachers put him down, how he never quite fit the mould. He recalled, “One day this mad hippy feller came into school and he played guitar. He started playing Bob Dylan and I was like, ‘F*cking hell, now this is music.’ But then he left and it was back to playing chopsticks.” He paused, grinned, and added, “So this next one… is called Chopsticks.
I love it when he slips into those school memories because, like RA and so many others, I wanted to play guitar too. I had absolutely no emotional connection to the glockenspiel. Even Maria von Trapp played a guitar. Why were music lessons in the 80s so tragic? Anyway. The next song, of course, wasn’t Chopsticks. It was the muchawaited Bittersweet Symphony, closing the night with its eternal catharsis. Young women on shoulders bounced along, pointing and singing at the top of their voices, while the men stood with arms stretched wide, reaching for the sky.
But for all the nostalgia, all the emotional weight, all the flawless delivery, one absence hung heavily over the night. Ashcroft didn’t play a single track from ‘Loving You’. Not one. I know there are a long list of my favourite songs like Leave Me High and Birds Fly are unlikely to ever make it onto a stage, but I expected at least a couple of tracks from the new album. Loving You is a strong, emotionally charged masterpiece, and its omission left a noticeable gap in the narrative of the show.
I’ve been crossing my fingers for Crimson Fire, Heavy News, and Live with Hope to make an appearance ever since the album was released. I’m sure there must be a good reason why none of the new material made the setlist, but it’s still a real shame. RA is creating some of the best new music of his career right now, and Sunday would’ve been the perfect moment for those songs to blaze through the trees and claim their place alongside the classics. Instead, the show leaned entirely on the past. Beautifully, yes but it’s still the past. It’s not a moan. It’s a compliment really, dressed as disappointment. The new songs are so good that their absence was impossible not to feel.
The night ended on a bittersweet note: that heavy ache of unfinished business mixed with an overwhelming gratitude for being there at all. Because even without the new chapter, the old ones still have the impact they always have.
You can catch RA continuing his tour over the following dates.
Words and Photos by Shavorne Wilbraham
16 July 2026 — Cardiff Castle, Cardiff Support: Tom Meighan & Apollo Junction
17 July 2026 — Alexandra Palace Park, London
24 July 2026 — Englefield Estate, Reading/Theale
25 July 2026 — Ludlow Castle, Ludlow Live at Ludlow Castle
27 August 2026 — Castle Park, Colchester Support: Tom Meighan & Apollo Junction
27 August 2026 — Don Valley Bowl, Sheffield (additional listing)
28 August 2026 — Southsea Seafront, Portsmouth Victorious Festival – with Scissor Sisters, Faithless, The Vaccines, Royston Club, Cast
30 August 2026 — Don Valley Bowl, Sheffield Rock ’n’ Roll Circus – with The Fratellis & Cast
