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Hard Rock Hell 3

Pontin's, Prestatyn, North Wales, 4th-5th December 2009

Pontin's in Prestatyn seems a bleak and lonely place to spend the first weekend in December. Seagulls tumble through a leaden sky, while a sudden wind whisks squally showers of rain across green lawns surrounded by barrack-like, two-storey chalets. And yet, there seems to be an unusual preponderance of leather jackets, mullets and Manowar T-shirts on display… Welcome to the camp with a difference: Hard Rock Hell III.

The line-up for this booze-fuelled weekend of rock is somewhat eclectic , a mix of old school NWOBHM, keen young bloods and saggy-jowled glams. An oft-repeated phrase is: 'Last time I saw [insert band name of choice] was 1990/1991/1992'. Way to feel old – until you look at the rest of the clientele… and the bands…

Friday

Our first brush with rock is in the Queen Victoria pub (which looks like the kind of English kit bar you get at train stations) with dark rockers 9xDead. Their music is a fairly predictable mix of funky thrash underpinned by heavy, Maiden-esque riffs, but their statuesque frontman is a star, doing his exuberant best to incite (or scare) enthusiasm from a crowd of afternoon drinkers who haven't really warmed up yet. Good on you, guyz.

After a quick trip back to our cosy chalet for sausages, it's time for Logan, local lads for us (sort of), hailing from the Weedge. Although even before vocalist Kenny Collins opens his mouth, you can tell they're Scottish – something about their melodic, slightly ponderous blend of stadium-esque rock just gives them away. I wasn't too keen on their cover of 'War Pigs', however, and with strains of Nickelback crossed with The Calling, they're not exactly party music – unlike bonkers Finnish folk rockers Korplikanni, who Ian and Dave rave about. Accordions in rock – so underrated…

Next up: Gun. Back in the day, I found these Scots rockers a bit dull. But I'm older and wiser now, and, fronted by ex-Little Angels vocalist Toby Jepson, 21st century Gun rock hard, with songs like 'Steal Your Fire', 'Taking On The World' and of course their stonking cover of Cameo's 'Word Up' proving arms-aloft singalong classics. Prancing around in a waistcoat, shirt and tie, the dapper Jepson is still a great frontman, hitting those high notes head on (although he admits it was a lot easier twenty years ago – which was roughly last time I saw him live). So far so great: Gun are definitely the band of the festival for me.

After that, Ratt are a bit of a disappointment, not nearly as good as they were at Sweden Rock last year. The sound is muddy and they seem a bit as if they're going through the motions – although 'Round and Round' picks up the pace at last. Apparently, over on stage 2, the Black Spiders rock. Oh well…

I haven't seen Bradford's Terrorvision since a New Model Army support slot in 1992, when I correctly predicted they would be huge. As Ian sourly points out, they are an indie band with one song they play fifteen times. But what a song! Fifteen  'Oblivions' are enough to get any party started, let alone a Pontin's party. Tony Wright, also flying the flag for tailoring in rock, leaps around the stage like a mad thing as he takes us through radio-friendly pop rock choonz like 'Alice, What's the Matter?', 'Tequila' and 'Middle Man'.

US stoner rockers Monster Magnet take to the stage as if they mean business, blasting us with a three-pronged guitar attack that channels vintage Black Sabbath via Jay and Silent Bob and is, at times, surprisingly theatrical. After the euphoric atmosphere created by Terrorvision, however, things fall a bit flat, so we end the night early, missing Sonata Arctica (again). Sorry…

Saturday

Saturday dawns bright and clear – yes, it really is sunny in Prestatyn. First up on stage 2 are Leeds boyz the Glitterati. Their infectious brand of muscular MySpace glam is great fun – certainly fun enuff to help us forget that it's one o'clock in the afternoon and we're in Pontin's. And it smells funny. At any rate, I'll definitely check them out again, next time they're north of the border.

Next, veteran lady rockers Girlschool give a solid, no frills, heavy metal performance, proving, as if we didn't know, that women can rock just as hard as men, even if they are dogged by dodgy sound problems and didn't have time to put their make-up on.

Finally, it's the band I've been waiting on: legendary Welsh wonders Tigertailz. Since I last saw the only glams in the village back in 1991 they've sadly lost bassist Pepsi Tate to cancer, but they're soldiering on, looking just as much of a threat to the ozone layer and Boots counter as they ever did, only a bit podgier. Blissfully, they take us through every track of their classic 1990 album, Bezerk, perhaps one of the best slices of coloured vinyl ever produced, but sadly killed dead by Nirvana et al.

Every track on this sadly underrated classic is a wee glam treat, all screeching geetarz, flailing drums and huge, punchy choruses. The fact that they can't actually play their instruments very well is completely by the by, as they deliver a superbly exuberant set fuelled by boundless energy and lovable enthusiasm. They end by dragging Girlschool on stage for a gloriously messy cover of Motörhead's 'Ace of Spades'. Sorry Gun, but Tigertailz just usurped your place as best of the fest.

(Left: Who would drive a car like this? I love it!)

Tasked with following that are the lovely Quireboys – one of the few bands who could take on Tigertailz on their home turf and still come up smelling of roses (and booze). 'Hi-de-hi, campers!' yells Spike (never one to miss a cheesy one-liner) before launching into 'The Finer Stuff', 'Tramps and Thieves', 'This is Rock'n'Roll' and 'Mona Lisa Smile' – oh, and of course as much of A Bit Of What You Fancy as they can squeeze into an hour-long set. This landmark bar room blues album may be celebrating its 20th anniversary (eek!) but when it comes to putting on a feelgood rock'n'roll performance, the 'Boys haven't aged a day, bless 'em.

I've never been a huge WASP fan, but Ian is, so we head down the front to see the big, scary, ugly mother that is Blackie Lawless up close. The set was handpicked by the fanz so it's bound to be a crowd-pleaser, from powerful opener 'On Your Knees'  to the triumphant closing track, 'Blind In Texas'. Clad in PVC gauntlets trimmed with his trademark circular saws, Lawless can still belt out the hits, and has found himself a kickass guitarist to boot. Disturbingly, I find myself completely won over. Who'd a thunk it?

We forgo the self-indulgent prog of Queensryche (who come on 25 minutes late, thus throwing the rest of the night into disarray) but return for the mighty New York Dolls, who deliver an utterly shambolic masterclass in 1970s glam punk rock. (Meanwhile, the bar has officially been drunk dry of Newcie Brown. Result.) A few tracks from the Dolls' latest album, the grammatically challenged Cause I Sez So, segue noisily into classic traxx like 'Pills', 'Lonely Planet Boy' (complete with Johnny Thunders tribute intro) and 'Trash'. David Johansen may look as if he's wearing a wig donated by the late great Blanche from Corrie, but he's skeletal supercool as ever, a simian Mick Jagger in skin-tight jeans and bug-eyed shades (although you have to wonder how he's enjoying his Pontin's chalet: 'Hey maan, whaa does the shaaawer keep turning itself orrff?')

And so to bed. It's been a most triumphant weekend, and we'll definitely be back next year. Thanks to all the bands for an unforgettable good time, Gwen and Dave for the good company and the HRH staff for a warm welcome. Hard Rock Hell? More like Heavy Metal Heaven…

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