Paul Weller, The Mersey and the Soundtrack to a Mod Life On The Waterfront Liverpool
- Desh Kapur
- 3 hours ago
- 5 min read
On The Waterfront, Liverpool – June 18th, 2026
WORDS DESH KAPUR / IMAGES COURTESY OF CREAM
The Modfather, The Mersey and a Lifetime of Influence
Let's get this straight from the start.
I'm a Mod.
Not the fancy-dress, one-weekend-a-year kind. Not the bloke who dusts off a parka for a festival and puts it away until next summer. I mean the real thing. The music, the clothes, the attitude, the endless search for the next great soul record.
And I'm a Mod because of Paul Weller.
In the immortal words of the man himself, I'll be a Mod till I die.
Walking towards Liverpool's Pier Head with my mate on a warm June evening, I found myself trying to explain something that probably sounds ridiculous to anyone who didn't grow up with a musical obsession. How do you explain that a man you've never met shaped your life more than most people you've actually known?
I was ten years old when I bought my first record with my own money.
"Eton Rifles."
From that moment, the road map was laid out before me.
The Jam led me to Stax. Stax led me to Atlantic. Atlantic led me to Tamla Motown. Then came The Small Faces, Curtis Mayfield, Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, and a thousand other records that became part of my DNA. The clothes changed too. Fred Perry. Ben Sherman. Desert boots. Harrington jackets. The uniform of a culture that never really leaves you.
No disrespect to my dad, but Paul Weller probably influenced me more.
So yes, I was excited.
And no, he didn't disappoint.
Then again, he never was going to, was he?
By the time we reached the festival site, Liverpool was doing that thing Liverpool does better than anywhere else in Britain. Looking magnificent.
On The Waterfront has quietly become one of the country's great outdoor music events. Every year, thousands gather beneath the iconic skyline of the Three Graces, with the River Mersey stretching out behind them and the Liver Building standing watch over proceedings. It's one of those rare venues where you spend half the night looking at the stage and the other half looking around in disbelief at where you are.
It's almost absurd.
Turn your head one way and you're staring at one of Britain's most famous waterfronts.
Turn it the other and one of the greatest British songwriters of the last fifty years is about to walk onstage.
The place was already packed.
Parkas.
Fred Perrys.
Ben Shermans.
Desert boots.
More Mods per square foot than you'd find on Brighton seafront in 1979.
A few overpriced beers disappeared before we made our way into the crowd. The support acts had done their job admirably, but if I'm being honest, I was here for one reason only.
At around 8:30pm, Paul Weller strode onto the stage.
Relaxed.
Confident.
Effortlessly cool.
Some people spend their entire lives trying to look like Paul Weller. Weller himself seems completely unaware he's doing it.
Backed by a phenomenal band featuring longtime collaborator Steve Cradock on guitar, he wasted little time on pleasantries.
"Talking minimal, music maximum."
A perfect mission statement.
After all, he had thirty-three songs to get through.
Thirty-three.
At an age when most of his contemporaries are trimming setlists and pacing themselves, Weller attacked the evening with the energy of a man half his age.
The remarkable thing about Weller isn't that he's still performing at a high level at 68.
It's that he still sounds invested.
There's no sense of obligation. No feeling that he's replaying old victories. Every song feels alive, as though he's still discovering something inside it.
The set roamed across every chapter of his extraordinary career.
The Jam classics landed exactly as they should.
"A Town Called Malice" exploded across the waterfront.
"Eton Rifles" felt particularly personal. Hearing the song that started me on this journey echoing across Liverpool's skyline was one of those strange moments where your past and present briefly occupy the same space.
"That's Entertainment" prompted one of the night's biggest singalongs, thousands of voices carrying every word into the Mersey air.
The Style Council material brought a different kind of magic.
"My Ever Changing Moods" and "Have You Ever Had It Blue" showcased Weller's lifelong love affair with soul and jazz, but it was "Long Hot Summer" that delivered one of the evening's defining moments.
As the song drifted lazily across the waterfront, the sun finally surrendered behind Liverpool's skyline. The last traces of daylight caught the stonework of the Three Graces while couples swayed arm in arm beneath the evening sky.
For a few minutes, it felt like time itself had slowed down.
Then came the solo material.
"Changingman."
"You Do Something To Me."
Songs that prove Weller's story didn't end with The Jam or The Style Council but simply evolved into something richer and more expansive.
The crowd responded to everything.
Every era.
Every reinvention.
Every chapter.
At one point Weller paused briefly to wish a happy birthday to Liverpool's most famous son, Sir Paul McCartney, drawing a huge roar from the local audience.
Then it was back to business.
Because that's what Weller does.
No excessive nostalgia.
No endless speeches.
No victory lap.
Just songs.
Great songs.
One after another.
As darkness settled fully across the Pier Head, the festival atmosphere transformed into something closer to a mass gathering of believers. The city lights flickered into life, the stage glowed brighter, and Weller stood at the centre of it all like a man completely at ease with his legacy while refusing to be trapped by it.
Walking away afterwards, ears ringing and heart full, I realised something.
I've spent most of my life listening to Paul Weller.
His records shaped my taste, my wardrobe, my attitude and, in many ways, my understanding of what music could be.
The danger with heroes is that eventually they stop living up to the version you've built in your head.
Paul Weller remains one of the rare exceptions.
Because after all these years, he still believes in the power of a great song.
And after a night like this, so do I.
SET LIST
Rip the Pages Up
Precious
(The Jam song)
Move On Up
(Curtis Mayfield cover)
Come On/Let's Go
The Weaver
Strange Town
(The Jam song)
Man in the Corner Shop
(The Jam song)
Up in Suze's Room
That Pleasure
Hung Up
Village
Broken Stones
My Ever Changing Moods
(The Style Council song)
Have You Ever Had It Blue
(The Style Council song)
Shout to the Top!
(The Style Council song)
Stanley Road
You Do Something to Me
Long Hot Summer
(The Style Council song)
Can You Heal Us (Holy Man)
Out of the Sinking
More
That's Entertainment
(The Jam song)
Peacock Suit
Shadow of the Sun
ENCORE
English Rose
(The Jam song)
All the Pictures on the Wall
The Changingman
The Eton Rifles
(The Jam song)
Wild Wood
Rockets
Town Called Malice
(The Jam song)
CONNECT WITH PAUL WELLER
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