Milltown Return

It kicked off in ’89, when five lads from Colne ditched the mill dust for guitars and dropped Coming From The Mill – an indie firecracker that NME instantly crowned ‘Single of the Week.’ Within a year, The Milltown Brothers had inked a deal with A&M, and Which Way Should I Jump shot into the UK Top 40 and the US Modern Rock charts. By ’91, their debut Slinky swaggered to No. 27, putting Colne on the map as Britain’s next big indie breakout.
Three decades later, The Milltown Brothers are proving lightning really can strike twice. Their 2023 comeback has been pure energy – sold-out shows, their first London gig in 20 years, and a storming main-stage return at the Shiiine On Festival. The lads are back, louder, tighter, and hungrier than ever.

There’s a fizz in Colne you can’t ignore. It’s running through the pubs and spilling over the market stalls – that low, familiar hum of “You going on the 5th, then?” The town’s gearing up for something special, and Matt Nelson, frontman of the Milltown Brothers, can feel it too. “Aye, we’re excited now,” he grins. “It’s started selling well already. Once it tips over here, everyone piles in – it becomes the place to be that night.”

And for those who remember the days of floppy fringes, warm pints, and blowing your last fiver on a CD single – this one’s for you. Round up your mates, dig out that old band tee, and make your way to The Muni in Colne on Friday 5th December, because the boys are back in town. With amps humming and hearts wide open, the Milltown Brothers are coming home – ready to remind everyone that the best sounds still start in Colne.

He and the band know The Muni well. They’ve done the nervous-leg shuffle and the bouncing floorboards before. I tell Matt about the last time I saw them here it was their ‘final’ gig– it was absolutely chocker, around 1993, the sort of gig that smelled of Red Stripe, sweat and sweet chaos. “I remember it well,” he laughs. “It’s weird playing Colne again, but it’s something we’ve always wanted to do. You can’t get rid of Colne – and Colne won’t get rid of you. We’ve always had good gigs at The Muni.”

When we get chatting about the big night at The Muni, Matt’s already half-grinning before I’ve even asked. He knows what’s coming. What can Colne expect on the night? “A bit of everything,” Matt says. “New album tunes, Slinky favourites, odds and ends from albums. We’re thinking longer set, but not seven hours like a Ken Dodd show,” he grins. “It’s a fine line between value and kidnap!”

“We were top of the bill, and Oasis were just the new lads starting out. No one had a clue who they were.”

With no confirmed support act as of yet, Matt’s keen to give a local band a chance to showcase their skills. It’s a far cry from their early days, when the tables were turned. These lads started out in a garage on Barrowford Road in Colne – proper grassroots stuff, neighbours probably banging on the walls – and next minute they were headlining Manchester Academy 3 in 1993, with The Real People and a scruffy new Manchester band called Oasis opening the night.

“Aye, that’s right,” Matt grins. “We were top of the bill, and Oasis were just the new lads starting out. No one had a clue who they were.”
I ask if there’s any chance Oasis might return the favour and open for them this time in Colne. Matt laughs. “Ha! Doubt it. They’ve done alright for themselves, haven’t they? We’ll manage without ’em.”

By 1993, after releasing their follow-up album Valve, the Milltown Brothers’ whirlwind began to ease off – and real life quietly stepped in. “We were figuring out what the hell we were going to do next. Everyone we played with – Blur, Oasis, Ocean Colour Scene– they all came back round just after we stopped,” Matt says. “If we’d hung on one more summer, who knows? But honestly, it was the right move. We’ve had two bites of the cherry, and that’s more than most.”

“It’s mad, really. After all this time, it feels better than ever.”

That’s the truth of the gap – not a dramatic split, just real-life muscling in and the music biding its time. “It took a few years to steady ourselves,” he says. “You don’t just flick the switch off and on again. But you keep writing – I never really stopped.”
The band dipped in and out of view, always tethered by friendship and unfinished songs. “You never really stop,” Matt says. “The songs just sit there, waiting. Then one day, you realise – it’s time.”

After a quiet decade a 2004 reunion brought the album Rubberband – recorded above a The Derby Arms pub in Colne, followed by Long Road (2015) and Stockholm (2020) proving they’d lost none of their melodic spark.

Fast-forward to August 2023, and Matt swears it was a recent gig at Hebden Bridge that changed everything. “We thought, go on then, one more. And it went off – the crowd, the energy, it was like stepping back in time. That’s when it clicked. People still cared. It’s mad, really. After all this time, it feels better than ever.”
That renewed spark led to more gigs, a new album, and even a book. And Jesus Danced (Twice): The True Story of the Milltown Brothers, written by Nigel Wood, it charts their meteoric rise, chaotic near-misses, and quietly glorious survival. “It was harder to read than I expected,” Matt admits. “But Nigel really captured us – the highs, the near-misses, the chaos. It’s not just ‘band X did Y.’ It’s about being a nearly-band who turned out alright. We’re still here, still mates, still playing. That’s success, isn’t it?”

Back in the early days they were young, wild, and jumping around stages. Now, decades later, they’re still doing it – maybe with slightly more sensible shoes and knees that need a stretch first. But what’s never changed is that spark between them – that same easy chemistry on and off stage that started in a garage and somehow survived everything since.’h

“He’s got Boogie Woogie tattooed across his bum. It seemed rude not to name the album after it.”

I was curious to discover Matt’s approach to song writing, does he write with a crowd in mind, “Not really with a crowd in mind. I write at home on acoustic. The songs take on a new life with the band. Folks said we’re better live than on record, so we recorded Boogie Woogie as live as possible. You can hear the room in it – it’s more alive.”

When I ask Matt to describe the album in three words (that my nan would understand). He winces. “Upbeat, melodic and … vibey?” I raise an eyebrow. “Would your nan know what vibey means, Matt?” He laughs. “Alright – happy, happy, happy. That’s the point. There’s enough darkness in the world. We want people smiling.”

Take it from me, their new album is a proper ‘Bobby Dazzler’, but where does the name come from. “Barney’s arse,” Matt grins. “He does like getting it out – he’s got Boogie Woogie tattooed across his bum. It seemed rude not to name the album after it. The title fits the album perfectly – upbeat and daft in the right way.”
I tell him, that I had the honour of Barney played me down the aisle on my wedding day. Thankfully, he kept his trousers on!
“You got lucky,” says Matt. “He’s got form. That tattoo’s had more encores than the rest of us!”

And the stories? They’ve got a few. Like the time they went looking for Little Richard while staying at The Hyatt on Sunset Strip. “We’d heard he was staying there,” Matt says, eyes twinkling. “We persuaded the barman to tell us his room number, we knocked on his door and his bouncer said he wasn’t in. Then Little Richard came out and gave us all prayer books.” I tell him that’s divine intervention if ever I’ve heard it. “Yeah,” he laughs. “We clearly needed redemption.”
Another gem from the Milltown archives takes us back to 1989, when the band found themselves on Blue Peter. “We were split on whether that was cool or not,” laughs Matt. “They had us on the sofa with John Leslie, and when he asked about our backgrounds, I blurted out, ‘Barney’s been playing with his organs since he was four.’ Slightly fluffed it – probably for the best.”

   “It’s about where you’re from – and who you stick with.”

I ask what everyone brings to the mix. “We revert to type,” Matt laughs. “Barney’s still gloriously mental. Simon’s the organiser, pushing us on. Nian’s quality control – great ear for what’s right. James is the musical director with a studio full of toys. I write most of the songs – though the band turns them into what they become.”
Would they still be called the Milltown Brothers if they formed today? “There aren’t many mills left,” he concedes. “Maybe we’d just be… Brothers.” He pauses and smiles. “It still fits though, doesn’t it? It’s about where you’re from – and who you stick with.”

They might not all be born and bred in Colne, but that’s where the magic (and the mayhem) began. “We once popped up on Granada Reports and got introduced as, ‘A band from… wait for it… Colne,’” smirks Matt. “Not exactly rock ’n’ roll, is it? But hey – we’ve been flying the Colne flag with pride ever since.”
He shrugs when I ask about the future. “No grand plan. More gigs, maybe more songs. We rumble on. We’re not trying to be the biggest band in the world. We just want to enjoy it and give people a night out.”

“Colne’s always been part of us. We can’t shake it, and we don’t want to.”

If you’re after setlist spoilers: expect Slinky sing-alongs, fresh Boogie Woogie bounce, and a few deep cuts dusted off because, well, it’s Colne. Expect a band playing for joy, not points. Expect stories, daft grins, and a room that remembers.
“We’ll probably get a bit emotional,” Matt says, looking down the years. “To come back and feel that noise again – it’s special. Colne’s always been part of us. We can’t shake it, and we don’t want to.”
See you down The Muni on the 5th. Bring your best singing voice. And maybe a prayer book – just in case Little Richard’s watching.

The Milltown Brothers new album Boogie Woogie, is out now on two shades of vinyl, CD and Lossless Download

Tickets on sale at The Muni, Colne.

For more details on the lads visit: milltown-brothers/