The Happy Mondays, but on Friday!

I’ll be honest, this gig wasn’t originally on my bingo card. My partner, on the other hand, is a massive fan of the Manchester music scene, Oasis, The Mondays, The Roses, the whole Madchester madness, so it felt like my duty to tag along. Happy wife, happy life works both ways, after all.

And honestly? I’m glad I did, because the final night of the Happy Mondays’ 35 Years of Pills ’n’ Thrills and Bellyaches tour at Mandela Hall turned out to be an absolute riot in the best possible way.

The crowd was a brilliant mix of generations. You had first‑year uni students who weren’t even a twinkle in anyone’s eye when the album came out, right through to 50‑somethings who lived through the original rave era and clearly still had the stamina for it. Once the lights went down, age didn’t matter. Everyone was there for the same reason to twist their melons and party like it was 1990 all over again.

The Farm kicked things off, and honestly, they were a perfect choice. They came out swinging with the hits, and by the time they reached All Together Now, the entire room was belting the chorus back at them long after the band had stopped playing. It was one of those rare gig moments where the crowd became part of the performance. And in true Bez fashion, he wandered onstage for an unplanned cameo, maracas in hand, adding that extra layer of chaos in only the way he can.

Then the Happy Mondays took over, and Mandela Hall absolutely erupted. Shaun Ryder strolled out with that unmistakable swagger, and Bez… well, Bez was everywhere. He shook his maracas like his life depended on it, danced as only Bez can, and had the crowd eating out of his hand within seconds. The band tore through the Pills ’n’ Thrills classics, Step On, Kinky Afro, Loose Fit and every single one landed like a nostalgia grenade on after the other. Firouzeh Berry’svocals were incredible, lifting the choruses and giving Ryder the perfect vocal counterbalance.

Shaun was in great form too, joking about how the band keeps getting better, Bez keeps getting younger, and he’s just getting older with a bigger nose, bigger ears, and an autocue to remember the lyrics to songs he “bloody wrote.” The crowd loved it. It was chaotic, funny, and completely on brand.

What really struck me was the loyalty of their fans. These people aren’t casual listeners, they’re lifers. They know every word, every beat, every weird little moment. The atmosphere was electric, messy, joyful, and utterly infectious.

And here’s the twist: despite not being a die‑hard fan myself, I had a brilliant time. The 90s vibes were immaculate, the tunes slapped harder than I expected, and the whole night had this carefree, don’t‑give‑a‑flying‑f*ck energy that you just don’t get at many gigs anymore. Would I go again? Honestly… yeah. For the vibes alone.

The Happy Mondays didn’t just play Belfast, they took it over, shook it up, and left everyone grinning. Madchester forever.