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AAs the sun rises in Derbyshire, Amy Winehouse tells people she needs a drink – so Robbie Williams gets her a drink. Elsewhere, people stop the Beastie Boys for selfies, Fred Durst walks while Diana Ross covers for Al Green, and shirtless teenagers make a pit stop for Korn while a woman sits knitting on a camping chair behind them. James Brown and Prince are becoming the same artist – they just wear different clothes.
Here are all the pictures from last month’s Replika festival, which won the Guinness World Record for the biggest festival, with 108 performances over a sweaty weekend. The shoot deserves the praise itself: acts included Catfishing the Bottlemen, Pearl Scam, Wrong Jovi and Iffy Clyro.
It is far from the only event of its kind. The UK is packed this summer, with Fake-Fest, Tribfest, Glastonbudget, Festwich, Tidal Gathering, Could Be Real and many more. Similarly, music venues across the country have lists full of hits. Dave Bevan, managing director of Alive Network Entertainment Agency – which represents 234 events – estimates there are between 3,000 and 5,000 outfits operating in the UK.
The reason why many of these events and gigs are successful is because going to see an original artist is often very expensive, especially during life’s crisis, while these gigs offer a cheap opportunity to have music, and music that you know and love. Replika charges £100 for a weekend ticket. Its organizer, James Dean, says: “Our festival is aimed at low to middle income families who have very little disposable income. This is what one group of young men I spoke to at the event said: “It’s cheap, local and funny.”
Dan Budd, who has been acting as Robbie Williams for the past 14 years, is very good on stage, full of important performances and cheekiness, plus he has the same voice as Stoke and has real tattoos. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so busy with bookkeeping,” he said. “I don’t have a free Saturday night until September 2027.”
Dean tells me that the top games in the game will pull in £10,000-£15,000 a show. Budd wouldn’t give me the exact numbers, but he says: “Put it this way, I’m 36 years old and I’m debt-free.”
Likewise, Nadine l’Amour – who performs as Amy Winehouse under the name Madnezz of Amy – is flying. She took the stage as Winehouse for the first time in December 2024 but, by April 2025, she left her high school teaching job to perform full-time. Like Budd, L’Amour also recorded a recording of Winehouse, although he is such a fan that it was done years before he entered the tribute show.
“There are 14- and 15-year-old girls singing every word,” he says of his shows. “I have young people who say: ‘I’ve never seen Amy, but seeing you on stage, I feel like it’s the closest thing I’ll ever get.'”
MeIt’s not just people like L’Amour and Budd who are benefiting. According to the charity Music Venue Trust (MVT), at a time when half of the UK’s music venues are not making a profit, artists are helping to keep the sector afloat.
“There’s a lofty feel to them, but these acts make certain aspects of live music work,” says Nathan Clark, owner of Brudenell Social Club in Leeds, one of the country’s most respected and well-regarded independent music venues. Although it is a fascinating history of leading artists and foreign artists, the audience plays a big role there. “Not all games have to be predictive,” he says. “The key is balance: tribute bands should support the original music, not replace it.”
There are no issues related to the income tax effect. MVT’s chief executive, Mark David, estimates that they make up around 25-30% of all bookings at independent venues in the UK. The Night Time Industries Association also said there was no official figure, but a spokesman said tax credits contribute “millions of pounds every year” to the music industry.
Dean had an independent study of the financial impact of his festivals over the past 10 years – including travel expenses, hotels, supermarkets and more – and it came out at around $8.5m. Taking into account the number of clubs, festivals, gigs and events, they estimate that the amount could reach hundreds of millions of pounds over the same 10 years.
One reason why this great field is overlooked and underwritten is because it is often seen as weak or undervalued. “People, especially in the big music industry, think of us as uninitiated,” says Dean. “We’re not being taken seriously.” But tribute acts are no longer just Elvis impersonators with the wrong lyrics. “We’ve had a few Take That tributes who can sing better than Robbie Williams and Gary Barlow,” says Dean; Clark says that Graham Sampson of the Smyths, a Smiths tribute band, may have a better pen than Morrissey.
Such skill and devotion to observing others can lead to problems. “For four or five years, I had a problem,” says Budd, “I couldn’t continue to be one person in my private life and then start taking on Robbie’s character and then leave it again.” But Budd has found a way around that, doing something different every night to keep it fresh, including deep cuts and hits, and being less about being Williams. “When I got older, I would go on stage and Dan and I would sing the songs according to his style,” he says.
If you like what you show, it can be more than a gig. L’Amour said: “There are a few songs that take me back to my darkest days. Back to Black puts a huge lump in my throat when I play that song.” I remember not only my pain, but also the pain that Amy felt. In Replika, L’Amour dedicates this song, very happy, to a friend who recently died. “Even though it’s difficult to sing, it’s good to dedicate the song to my friend who suffered from mental illness,” he told me later. “And it was also about losing a loved one, drinking and everything involved.”
L’Amour says that while some people – like Replika’s Prince-James Brown combo – moonlight in many tribute acts, they can do Winehouse because of the importance of the material. “This is more than sticking on eyeliner, pulling back the beehive and wearing expensive, uncomfortable shoes,” she says. That first stomach-churning love that kicks you in the stomach; having a very broken heart. But to be able to pour that out to the audience is to feel the love coming back.
Tribute’s actions also have influence on other areas of the industry. Clark said: “It’s not always considered culturally noble but it creates jobs.” “It drives musicians, designers, advertisers, payment platforms.” He points to the Smyths having four nights of tours coming to his place. “What original bands here can do four nights and sell them out?” he asks. Very few. These four shows give us the opportunity to take some risks.
Tribute bands also tend to bring in “higher-end” revenue to venues, according to Davyd, as gigs are often held on weekends and often bring in larger crowds. Clark admits: “A tribute show is usually a lot of fun: people are relaxed, they know the music, they sing along…it’s like a festival.” In independent theaters, this is especially important.
David points out that toll roads “fill the program” in small towns “where there is no transportation”, which is a mixed blessing. Yes, they allow people to see live music in major venues they ignore, but does their success make it harder for people to start writing and doing their own thing? “Any event with live music is very important for social interaction, social cohesion and a lot of reasons,” he says. “But we have to worry about bringing out other British talent. I wish there were more places to do that. Tribute bands are an important part of the underground scene but we don’t want them to be the only ones opening.”
What is evident at the Replika festival is that although, for many, these groups are vehicles of integrity, comfort and knowledge – the great Oasis cages, the timeless Beatles hooks and 00s pop pop – they are also the first way to music. It’s fun to watch kids in military jackets walk into their first mosh pit and use morale tunes, as a fake Limp Bizkit turns the big tent into an explosion of exploding bodies. And it’s a dream for the musicians too, who seem to be disappointed by the answer. The translator shouts to his parents in the audience, his adrenaline clearly pumping, as he announces: “They keep telling me to get a real job – but look at me now!”
