"All of our relations, our uncles, dads, granddads, they've banged on about this place for years": What happened when Massive Wagons played the first rock shows at a historic venue in 40 years

It’s 10am at The Great Hall, and about four hundred children are lining up outside with their schoolbags. They process in pairs, holding hands, ushered inside with military precision by teachers. Gasps of “wow!” are heard as they take in the auditorium’s high ceilings, bright lights and enormous stage. Two girls are headbanging already. Another murmurs, “I’ve never seen anything like it…”

At the door, Massive Wagons’ manager (and frontman Baz Mills’ partner) Terri Chapman waves kindly at the kids filing in, liaising with venue and school staff in between. Over the last year, she’s negotiated the considerable red tape involved with putting on a rock show for under-14s. Eight local primary schools have classes of children here today, the vast majority of them aged between eight and ten.

“Yeah, I think it’s all under control,” Chapman smiles, a little nervously as seats are filled in blocks of uniformed colour, kids bouncing in their seats, sitting quietly or playing clapping games. Some have ear defenders. Most of them don’t.

“We approached the idea years ago,” Mills tells us, down-to-earth but buzzing offstage. “We thought, wouldn’t it be amazing? It would do something different, playing a show for some kids. But it was difficult to organise.”

Their chosen location didn’t make things easier, even if the motive was equally worthwhile. Nestled in the grey-paved campus of Lancaster University (somewhat isolated, outside the city centre) Lancaster Great Hall is chiefly used for exams and classical recitals these days. There’s no in-house PA. The air feels sedate, all academia, noticeboards and thick foyer carpets. It hasn’t rocked in a long time.

And yet at one point it was all very different. Between 1970 and 1985, under the stewardship of student-turned-promoter Barry Lucas, The Great Hall hosted gigs by virtually every rock’n’roll icon you can think of – helping boost the clout of live music in the north of England. Helpfully situated just off the M6, it became a convenient spot for bands en route between Manchester and Glasgow. AC/DC, The Who, Pink Floyd, Paul McCartney, Black Sabbath, U2, Dire Straits, Eric Clapton, Tina Turner, Queen, T. Rex, Blondie, Ramones and The Pretenders are among those who played here.

Eventually, Lucas moved on and new management came in. The first few shows lost money, and the Student Union decided not to get involved in the “risky business” of booking rock bands anymore. And so, for 40 years, the hall remained a distortion-free zone. Until today.

“All of our relations, our uncles, dads, granddads, they’ve banged on about this place for years,” Mills muses. “It’s all ‘back in the day, I went to watch Slade at the uni’, ‘I went to watch AC/DC’, ‘I saw Queen up there’… So there’s going to be a lot of reminiscing, I think, hopefully, for locals.”

Formed up the road in Carnforth, Massive Wagons are a known quantity in these parts. They all still live locally. Their songs are littered with references to the region. Since 2022, Mills and guitarist Adam Thistlethwaite have toured local primary schools as part of an anti-bullying campaign, ‘Forget The Haters’ (a suitably PG spin on their 2022 track Fuck The Haters). Both fathers to primary school-aged children themselves, with memories of being picked on in their own school days, the cause is close to their hearts.

“It impacts your life, doesn’t it?” Mills says, simply. “You’re only there for a small part of your life, but it has a massive impact. You remember who the bullies were, you remember who your friends were. It shapes who you’re gonna be.”

“I mean, my experience was only really a few months, but it genuinely changed me right into my twenties,” observes Thistlethwaite – the taller, gentler counterpart to Mills’ mohawked barrel of frontman eyes and nervous energy. “A lot of the time they don’t even realise, because it’s dressed up as banter. You might not realise you’re affecting somebody else’s life the way you do. And it does sound corny, but if we stop even one instance of that happening, it’s totally worth it.”

It’s almost 10.30am. Backstage the mood is cheerful if a little anxious. It’s the first time they’ve played such a big-scale hometown show – and the first time they’ve played to a room full of minors. You can see the question flashing across the faces of band and crew alike: will these kids actually like this? Can we expect small children in 2025 to enjoy loud, old-school rock’n’roll with Leppard, Quo and shots of punk in its veins? Or will it be totally lost on them?

The lights go down.

We hold our breath, but not for long. The cheer from the seats is loud, piercing and immediate, as the band stride on, waving at the excited faces screaming back at them. The five members of Massive Wagons look at each other. They can’t believe it. We can’t believe it. Nobody can believe it. It’s a uniquely joyous moment.

“ARE YOU READY FOR SOME ROCK AND ROLL?” Mills roars, part punk rocker, part kids' birthday entertainer in his Ramones vest, Sesame Street socks, tattoos and whirling locks. It’s hard to picture a frontman better suited to this. As the band dive into what’s essentially a proper rock show – albeit a shorter one, and slightly quieter but not much – the clapping, waving and cheering continues. There’s something simple and profoundly touching about it. Yes there are a few blank faces but a lot more look enthralled, some are laughing. One teacher administers a plaster to a small hand as he bobs along to a first-class Missing On TV.

“This has gotta be better than geography, isn’t it?!” Mills calls out. The response suggests that the kids agree. In It Together is both a rousing call for community and a love letter to the lifers of rock’n’roll. ‘Just remember folks, you’re great the way you are’, they sing in Free And Easy – the sort of lightness and quietly deep good sense we could all use more of. The room sings, united, carefree.

It’s kind of amazing; that expression of communal release, coming from a generation who (for the most part) aren’t exposed to live music, or live arts in general. A generation whose childhood was shaped by lockdowns. A generation fed with an endless choice of streamed entertainment. Another teacher standing next to me points at one little girl, dancing with unbridled glee. “She’s normally so quiet in class!” the teacher beams, incredulous.

“I’m letting them know as quick as I can that it’s all right to scream, y’know, ‘stamp your feet, clap your hands, wave your arms!’” Mills reasons later. “I wouldn’t ordinarily do that as much, but I just wanted to really get through to them.”

It’s like watching Rock Gig 101 in 30 full-bodied minutes: the chorus singalongs, the arm swaying, the call and response sections, the volume contests between one half of the crowd and the other. By the time the confetti cannons blast, even the shyest children are bounding out of their seats.

“It’s funny because they love that,” Mills says, “but when you play to a grown up crowd, they love it as well! Like ‘who can make the most noise?’ ‘wayyyy!’ They just love that basic stuff. There’s nothing disconnecting these kids and adults. It’s the same basic fun elements.”

By 6.30pm, the line of Massive Wagons T-shirts stretches out into the rain, around the block. A Wagons-themed bar serves drinks. Terri oversees the front desk with wristbands and guestlists; today feels as much her baby as anyone’s.

Backstage, guitarist Stephen Holl and their sound guy Dave compare notes on gigs by local heroes The Lancashire Hotpots. It’s a family affair, steeped in North West lore and camaraderie. Earlier we watched them conduct the most laidback VIP package we’ve ever seen; not so much a ‘Meet N’ Greet’ as an hour of chatty, informal mingling, the band greeting fans like old friends.

Pop rock singer-songwriter Harrison Rimmer gets the evening off to a cheerfully caffeinated start, but it’s Macclesfield’s prodigal sons The Virginmarys who set the bar high. Like, really high. One of the country’s most exciting live bands – melody-forward rockers with the raw fire of a hardcore punk group – they have a dark side that offsets the bouncing ‘dad energy’ of the Wagons guys.

And yet at heart, they are not all that different. There’s a realness that both bands share. Commitment to their fans. Ganglike closeness onstage and off. Loyalty to their hometowns, their roots, all the while shooting for the stars and refusing to compromise artistically.

Massive Wagons - Fun While It Lasted (Live) [Official Video] - YouTube

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Kicking tonight’s headline set off on a high, the bright yet biting Back To The Stack elicits shoutalongs to rival those of a football crowd after a particularly satisfying victory. The room buzzes. Stories from Great Hall guests past have flown about all day. The guy who operated a follow-spot on Phil Lynott when Thin Lizzy played here. The group of mates who ran into Debbie Harry, the night Blondie headlined. The couple who watched Bon Scott carry Angus Young on his shoulders in 1977. All of Wagons’ friends and relatives’ nights out watching legends at this uni campus off the M6. Playing here means something.

It’s all there in the delight on Baz Mills’ face. Nailing this thing, headlining the first rock show here in 40 years – this guy who, in another life, drove a tipper lorry on this same site, helping to build science labs and other campus buildings.

“This is absolutely insane, Lancaster!” he roars as they leap into a triumphant Tokyo, all king-sized chorus and stirring classic rock chops with a 21st-century voice. Local boys, playing like big shots.

Recording tonight (and tomorrow, when they’ll fill the room again) for a live album, Massive Wagons play like a band stepping up a league. There are AC/DC-primed riffs, fizzling pop punk moments, huge ballads. Lyrics are funny, surprising, moving in places. Generation Prime is a takedown of instant-gratification culture. Please Stay Calm makes them all grow taller with its Def Leppard nods, searing guitars and incisive vulnerability.

Earlier, reps from male suicide prevention charity Andy’s Man Club came on stage to announce a new centre in Morecambe. Their pitch was short and sweet, without an ounce of righteousness. It could easily have felt like lip service or contrived do-gooding, but it didn’t. Now, a beautifully harmonised Night Skies makes an emotive, classy hat-tip to that work, raising compassion for an often silent illness.

“It’s breaking the stigma of depression in blokes, you know, it’s just…” Mills reasoned earlier, “making it normal. You hope that stigma will go and then the younger lads, they’ll grow up in a society where there isn’t one. But that’ll take some time to come through.”

“They set the tone completely right as well,” Thistlethwaite added, of the sessions the charity hosts across the country. “It’s not preachy. It’s just a kind of quiet ‘we’re here if you need it’. There’s no pressure. Just have a brew, do speak, don’t speak. Just come in.”

That’s Massive Wagons all over. Principled but never preachy. Guys you might meet at the school gates. Rockers you’d go to the pub with, keenly aware of the everyday things that shape people. It’s not hard to see their anti-bullying talks and Andy’s Man Club affiliation going handin-hand. In front of eight-to-ten-year-olds this morning, and a roomful of adults tonight, they drove home the same key messages: live music is a wonderful thing, and be good to each other.

“I think it’s genuinely important,” Mills concludes. “It creates decent human beings.”

They close with a hearty Fee Fi Fo Fum. The room erupts, united by this music, this place, this band. Suddenly our ‘grown-up’ crowd isn’t all that different from the children earlier.

Massive Wagons' Live At The Great Hall will be released on March 27 via Earache Records. The Everywhere We Go tour kicks off in April - for dates and tickets, visit the Massive Wagons website.