LIVE REVIEW: Edwyn Collins @ Boiler Shop, Newcastle (08.10.25)

Image by Ali Welford

This is it, then. Almost a half century on from his first gig with the Nu Sonics (later re-christened Orange Juice), Edwyn Collins is finally drawing a curtain on one of British pop’s most remarkable performing careers. Tonight is the penultimate date of his Testimonial Tour – one last opportunity to hear the songs which have captured hearts and minds across generations in person, and to witness an alt-pop legend fulfil his driving ambition and bow out of the live arena on his own terms. The Boiler Shop – as it ought to be – is packed out. It’d be easy for such an occasion to feel bittersweet, yet tonight’s mood is solely one of celebration. It’s a testament to decades of wonderful music, yes, but equally to the inspiring comeback that’s seen him overcome a life-threatening double brain haemorrhage and return to both the stage and studio. Despite the widespread acclaim afforded to latest album Nation Shall Speak Unto Nation, this tour is an unabashed hit parade focused squarely on the most beloved corners of his catalogue. Orange Juice’s seminal 1982 debut You Can’t Hide Your Love Forever and 1994 solo opus Gorgeous George are particularly well represented, between them making up around half the setlist. Still experiencing impaired speech and mobility, Collins’ voice nevertheless remains unmistakable; a swooning calling card which defined his outsider status, rendering those occasional chart breakthroughs all the more improbable. Seated centre stage, Edwyn is backed by a terrific fivepiece band.

Multi-instrumentalist/backing vocalist Sean Read is a key cog, hitting some of the higher notes Collins no longer can, while he and guitarist Patrick Ralla nail vital junctures such as Rip It Up’s indelible sax solo and A Girl Like You’s soaring chorus riff. Like just about everybody else here, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen Collins perform live – yet the joy, playfulness and defiance coursing through every seam of these perfect, poignant songs is only magnified by tonight’s sense of finality. The decision to open with Falling And Laughing is especially inspired, the Postcard Records single which started it all still sounding impossibly fresh, as through preserved in a crystalline melodic time capsule. It’s far from the only moment which loosens the tear ducts. The longing and self-deprecation of Consolation Prize and I Can’t Help Myself’s blissful disco shuffle still chime with the glorious, naïve glaze of youth; In Your Eyes is a delightful duet with his son William; while Low Expectations and Home Again – delivered consecutively during the encore – are turns in heart-rending tenderness which, although pre dating his illness, have only grown more touching with the passage of time. It’s tempting to wish for this show to go on and on, though as goodbyes go it’s difficult to imagine how it could possibly strike a more satisfying note. As Collins rises from his seat, triumphantly brandishing his cane before adoring applause, it appears that feeling goes both ways. I just about held back the waterworks. Many around me had no such qualms.