Archive for May, 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Once again, I’ve returned to my home from witnessing fantastic acts performing live with a few photos, and barely any notes. This is what happens when the bands are so good you just spend the entire set, transfixed, and when between acts, when you might otherwise capture a few thoughts, you see people you know, and in between a piss and a fresh pint, the time’s gone. I can’t complain about any of this, of course, and I’m not going to. Because this summarises everything that’s great about going to see live music in grassroots venues – not just seeing great bands in close proximity and being able to afford not only a pint, but more than one (you can buy two decent hand-pulled pints of local / regional beer here for the price of a single pint of mass-produced stuff at The Barbican or Leeds O2), but running into familiar faces and being part of a community of people who support live music and are properly into going to see bands.

I’m writing this up now having just seen that The Crescent in York has been named by Time Out as one of the 42 greatest independent venues in the UK, making the Top 10, no less, sharing a bracket with the likes of The Brudenell, Café Oto, and Glasgow Barrowlands. And the more I reflect, the more I feel it’s more than deserved. It really is that good, in that it has everything you could possibly want from an independent gig venue – and tonight is exemplary. It’s sold out, and the bar’s packed a good half an hour before doors, plus there’s a queue, meaning it’s filled up nicely by the time Meryl Streek takes the stage at 8.

Meryl Streek is a revelation, and a world away from Pigs stylistically, sonically, in terms of performance… and this is a strong positive. For one man with a backing track, he sure does a good job of making up for the absence of a band, constantly pacing back and forth with a frenetic, kinetic, nervous energy. The set is strewn with samples and recordings of news items, predominantly about suicide and murder, prefacing or integrated within songs on the same. Real people are the subjects, and he pours heart and soul into every word. The vocal style is not exactly rapping, and certainly not singing, but essentially agitated ranting over electronic-based tracks with sturdy bass and booming beats. At times it’s near disco, others quite abrasive noise. He apologises for the content, and for – well, I’m not quite sure what for. The crowd’s behind him (even when he’s off the stage and in the middle of them, if you see what I mean) and deservedly so. Musically entertaining, lyrically harrowing, it’s a strong set.

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Meryl Streek

AC/DC’s ‘For Those About to Rock’ is played in full as an intro before Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs – or Pigs x 7 as they tend to be more commonly referred to, for obvious reasons – take to the stage. It’s an apposite choice: we are indeed, about to fucking rock.

Their back line is immense. The sound is beyond immense, and they blast out riff after riff after riff. They roll up all of the best of riff monsters and chuck in some space rock for good measure, resulting in a glorious hybrid of Sabbath, Mötörhead, and Hawkwind. And while on the face of it, there’s nothing unique on offer, when it comes to riffs, size matters, and these guys do riffs on a truly galactic scale. The delivery really makes it, though. The bass and drums are locked in tight, and the two guitarists swap effortlessly between lead and rhythm parts, sometimes both playing both.

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Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs

Matt Baty, in shorts and vest, dripping with sweat (and the copious water he pours over himself) adopts a stance like Henry Rollins as he hollers into a vortex of reverb. But given his build, and tendency to bounce lightfootedly and strike random poses, it’s more like watching Barry McGuigan doing Freddie Mercury on Celebrity Stars in Their Eyes. They’re a band who clearly don’t take themselves too seriously, and every three or four songs – hammered out back to back – there’s a pause for breath, during which he relays a tale in three or four parts which is more or less about the fact that they’ve never been invited to play Download Festival (cue pantomime booing and hissing from the crowd). This is very much Download’s loss. There’s also a reference to ‘The hardest man in Billingham’ – which happens to be a song by fellow northeasters IRKED, who we welcomed to York only last week. There’s some good stuff happening up there right now, and it’s great that we get to share in this. In fact, despite the fact that the world is insane and there’s war everywhere, the cost of living is crippling, and pubs and venues are closing at an alarming rate, this is a good time for new music.

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Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs

As they’re touring to promote their (fairly) recently-released fifth album, it stands to reason that the set should focus on that, opening with ‘The Wyrm’ and playing pretty much the album in its entirety, with occasional delves into the back-catalogue, with ‘Big Rig’, ‘Mr Medicine’ and ‘Ultimate Hammer’ from Land of Sleeper also making an appearance and ‘GNT’ from 2018’s King of Cowards being the oldest song in the set. No-one’s beefing about the setlist: the new album is a corker and live, they slay from start to finish. Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs = Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs, and tonight’s show was an absolute rip-snorter.

Iconic Norwegians TRELLDOM, founded by legendary vocalist Gaahl, now reveal the eerie advance single ‘I Speak Forgotten Voices’ as the final track selected from their forthcoming new full-length: …by the word…

…by the word… has been chalked up for release on May 29, 2026.

TRELLDOM do neither comment on their music nor explain their art.

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With …by the word…, TRELLDOM are pushing forward hard into their new musical era that was ushered in by the previous full-length …by the shadows… (2024), which ended a 17-year hiatus of the Norwegian band.

Mastermind Kristian Eivind Espedal aka Gaahl and his diligently selected collaborators have gone even beyond the complex yet sinister sound that they established with …by the shadows… The exponentially grown confidence and hard-gained experience of joining together seemingly quite different musicians is reflected clearly in each track of …by the word…
TRELLDOM have concluded the process of escaping the narrowest definition of black metal without compromising their artistic mission. Their music does not only stay loyal to the spirit of their black metal roots, but the Norwegians are making a solid point that their new sound is even more dark and fierce than ever before – just in more twisted and unhinged ways.
…by the word… is the result of Espedal expanding the immense range of his vocals even further into unexplored territories. And it should be noted that this was partly achieved by his return to the famous Grieghallen Studios in Bergen to work again with legendary producer Eirik Hundvin aka Pytten, who was instrumental in the creation of the ‘Norwegian black metal’ sound.

Although Espedal remains firmly at the helm of TRELLDOM, the current line-up plays a massive part in the fresh exploration of musical extremes. Guitarist Stian “Sir” Kårstad (formerly also in DJERV) guarantees a form of continuity as he already contributed to the second and third album of the band. Furthermore, the new constellation features renowned percussionist Kenneth Kapstad, formerly of MOTORPSYCHO and hammering the drums in SPIDERGAWD, MØSTER!, and THORNS. Kapstad brought the internationally acclaimed jazz musician and saxophone player Kjetil Møster (MØSTER!, RÖYKSOPP, THE END) along. Bass player Eirik Øien is the latest addition to the cast of characters.

TRELLDOM were founded by Gaahl in Sunnfjord, Vestland in 1992. The band’s early trilogy of albums, Til evighet… (1995), Til et annet… (1999), and Til minne… (2007) are all regarded as underground milestones of black metal history. Espedal is widely accepted as one of the leading figures of the Nordic black metal scene. The enigmatic vocalist joined the notorious Bergen outfit GORGOROTH in 1998 but soon contributed to a wider range of projects that include Einar Selvik’s WARDRUNA, GOD SEED, and in 2015 he also launched his new band GAAHLS WYRD.

TRELLDOM continue in the tradition of all of Espedal’ art, which asks to always expect the unexpected. With …by the word… the exploration of avant-garde dissonance, wicked rhythm patterns, and wild ideas again destroys preconceptions and demands intense listening. Better prepare to be challenged by every note!

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Stratis Capta Records – 13th May 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

While gearing up for a second EP, San Francisco’s Octavian Winters give us the single ‘By the Stars’ – and while it’s quite the contrast from its predecessor, the adrenalized slice of post-punk that is ‘Elements of Air’, the distinctive key elements are still very much in evidence, not least of all the robust drumming, and the catchy shoegaze pop shades, which are keenly reminiscent of Curve.

The intro sets the tone for the song, introducing elements of light and shade, whereby a soft chiming guitar – wistful and ponderous – contrasts with a darker-sounding Cure-like chorus-soaked bass and rolling tom-led drums which arrive shortly after. Ria Aursjoen’s sweetly melodic vocals add a whole other dimension. From hereon in, the song swirls around amidst hazy atmospheres.

The song possesses a dreamy quality, and the structure is more a sequence of segments than a more conventional verse / chorus, which only accentuates the sense of the song being a journey, with a sense of flow and transition instead of feeling constrained. The effect is to lift the listener, not necessarily out of body, but momentarily out of time, and to another space, a space apart from the grounded world. And right now, when the (supposedly) grounded world is hard to deal with, these five minutes of uplifting separation are absolute bliss.

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Octavian Winters 2026 (photo by David Kruschke) 02

Photo by David Kruschke

Japanese post-rock legends MONO recently announced details on their new album Snowdrop set for release on 12th June via Temporary Residence. This is the band’s first album made with Brad Wood (Touché Amore, The Smashing Pumpkins), following the passing of longtime collaborator and friend, Steve Albini.

Taken from MONO’s 13th album Snowdrop, scheduled for release on 12th June 2026 (Temporary Residence), a new single ‘Gerbera’ is out now with an accompanying music video.

For Snowdrop, the band wishes to express their eternal gratitude to those precious people who have walked alongside them on their journey of life, by incorporating the messages imbued in flowers given to those who have passed into the song titles on the album.

MONO’s Statement:

“The language of flowers for the Gerbera is ‘faithful love’ and ‘cheerfulness’. The countless, precious memories I share with you will never be forgotten. I am so glad that I met you. Innocence, purity, joy, beauty—and I will never forget your smile.”

Yusaku Mitsuwaka, ‘Gerbera’ Director:

“During the shoot, the wind swayed the silver grass wildly, resonating with the band’s performance and blowing through as if it were music itself. Guided by the wind, the camera danced, and ‘Gerbera’ became a music video brimming with vitality. Even in today’s fractured world, the act of loving and being loved remains unchanging. I hope this wind reaches the heavens. I would like you to watch this while thinking of someone dear to you.”

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“Without exception, everyone will eventually depart this world and face the parting from their loved ones. Through this album, we wished to express our "eternal gratitude" to those precious people who walked alongside us on the journey of life. We believe this sentiment is the only thing capable of filling the void left in our hearts and easing the profound sorrow and pain of loss. Every flower carries its own unique language. For this album, we incorporated the messages imbued in flowers given to those who have passed into the titles of our songs. Our hope is that this album serves as a source of light and hope for those who have lost someone dear.” – MONO

When MONO recorded their previous album, OATH, with longtime production partner and friend, Steve Albini in 2023, they never fathomed that it would be the final studio album they made together. Albini tragically died the following year, and that loss left an incalculable void in the lives of not just everyone who ever knew Steve, but everyone with an attachment to any of the thousands of records he helped bring into world over the past four decades. He brought a clarity to the chaos, and a selfless sense of service to art and artists that was unrivalled. On both a personal and practical level, the loss left MONO faced with profound grief and uncertainty. Albini had become a fundamental part of MONO’s unmistakable sound, and the thought of replacing him was daunting, to say the least. Enter: Brad Wood(Touché Amoré, The Smashing Pumpkins).

Chosen for both his familiarity with MONO’s creative and technical working process – as well as his decades-long friendship with Steve Albini – Brad Wood entered Albini’s storied Electrical Audio studios in September 2025 to record what would become Snowdrop. Once again working with Chicago-based conductor and orchestral musical director, Chad McCullough, MONO enlisted a 10-piece orchestra as well as an 8-piece choir for the eight massive pieces that make up Snowdrop. With the band performing and Wood recording in the same hallowed space where most of MONO’s records had been made in their quarter-century history, the songs on Snowdrop carry an extra weight. Mixed by Wood at his Seagrass home studio in Los Angeles, the album is equally intimate and enveloping.

Where there could easily be a pall hanging over Snowdrop, there is instead an extraordinary air of gratitude. Rather than steep in heartache, there is a poignant appreciation for the resonance of life well-spent with a dear friend – and the yearning for what may come. Snowdrop is the sound of a band turning shock and sadness into hope and wonder – and finding renewed focus in the freedom of unknowing.

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MONO

Photo by Carlos Cruz courtesy of KEXP

5th June 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

I laugh, because the phrase ‘survival of the shittest’ was a phrase I used – a lot – in the late 90s, in my early years of being thrown into the corporate world after completing a degree in English literature. Back then, the belief still existed that a better education would lead to a better job, although in the three years between starting my degree and finishing it, a lot changed, and none of it for the good. ‘Graduate jobs’ stopped being a thing, meaning that it was a feat just to land a temp job doing data input work at an insurance company. It was fucking soul crushing, and Charles Bukowski’s Factotum became a book I came to relate to all too closely as I trudged my way through what felt like endless drudgery. And the managers, those who got promoted, those who did well? The common trait among them seemed to be that, when you boiled it down to the basics, they were all cunts. Backstabbers, self-promoters, overconfident wankers, twats with all the ambition but none of the skills… these bastards were killing it on the career ladder, while I sloughed away in a pit of despair. Scum floats, and all around me, it did. I wasn’t envious of their lives or their ‘careers’, but it was a gut-wrenching showcase of the shitshow that is capitalism and the greasy pole of corporate life: the survival of the shittest in sharp relief. This is now true of all aspects of life: as politics has become indistinguishable from business, and capitalism has taken over all aspects of existence, every bugger is using business-speak and striving to attain success not by means of hard work and talent, but by connivery and cuntishness. And it needs to be called out, and blocked wherever possible.

This new EP by GURT is nothing less than an absolute beast. With three tracks clocking in at ten and a half minutes, there’s no flab, no extravagant solos, no wanking about. They’re described as purveyors of ‘party doom’, but they’re a bit too uptempo to be doom and far too doomy to be party for most. Ultimately, their thing is a rabid racket, and at times, I’m reminded of the Leeds scene circa 2010 and shortly after, specifically around the emergence of crazed guitar noise acts like Pulled Apart by Horses and These Monsters. These were exciting times, particularly as it predated the need for professionalism to make it even onto a stage. Don’t get me wrong: these were great bands, but they were also wild, and things feel a lot more contained now.

GURT do not feel contained, GURT feel deranged, unhinged, rampant. ‘Live Nation, Dead Scene’ goes in all guns blazing, a rabid rager presumably targeted at the multinational ticket agency – operating what’s probably one of the biggest legal scams on the planet right now, with their exorbitant fees and dynamic pricing. The music industry has always sought to gouge every penny from fans while the artists themselves wallow at the bottom of the pile when it comes to benefiting from the proceeds, but Live Nation have hatched a whole new level of exploitatious robbery. They are literally – and yes, I do mean that – killing music for profit, and should be boycotted at all costs. I doubt this is a major issue for GURT.

The title track is a low-slung, sludgy, riff-driven roar, propelled by some ferocious drumming. The vocals are mangled to all hell, and it’s seriously gnarly.

Their cover of 2 Unlimited’s ‘No Limit’ simply shouldn’t work. It’s truly preposterous, audacious, and absurd. Metal covers of pop and dance tunes is old hat, predictable, corny… and yet they overcome all of this to conclude the EP with a ballsy, over-the-top take on a dance-pop song that’s as maligned as it was successful. This version’s not going to be making number one in a hundred countries around the world or filling dancefloors in perpetuity, but credit to GURT for the inspired choice. And now ‘party doom’ makes sense. Get on down, motherfuckers!

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Dolium x LiVES collide on ‘Shame!’, a high-friction joint single that blurs the line between collaboration and confrontation. Rooted in indie rock and sharpened by punk urgency, it’s a track driven by tension, energy, and shared intent.

Since reforming in 2024 for the 20th Anniversary of their label, Sister 9 Recordings, lo-fi/post-punk/scuzz-rockers Dolium have been quietly building toward a new chapter. In their early days, the band caused quite a buzz on the UK underground music scene, catching the attention of BBC radio legend, John Peel.  That legacy is captured in their critically acclaimed limited-edition 4CD box set, The Products Of Our Own Demands And Commands. Now, in 2026, they return with renewed focus, and a new era of furious punk rock.

Born in Cornwall and sharpened in Kent, LiVES are a visceral collision of post-punk intensity and hard rock precision. Their debut album Let Them Eat Cake landed like a fist through a wall, fast, aggressive, and socio-politically charged. Louder Than War called it “a nihilistic expression of anger and disillusionment.” Their track Just Can’t Get Enough reached a wider audience through its placement on the Netflix series Lucifer. With airplay across BBC 6 Music, Radio X and BBC Introducing, a sold-out European tour, and support slots alongside Buzzcocks, SPAN and Danny Wildheart, LiVES have built a reputation as a band made for rooms that sweat. They return here in full force.

The creative spark was immediate.“I knew I wanted to work with someone that had as much anger and attitude as me. The moment I heard Rhys’s work, I was like, hell yeah… this is fire.” – Peter (LiVES) What started as a skeletal, verseless track quickly evolved into something more dynamic. Dolium took the initial framework into the studio and, as Rhys puts it, “added their venom,” with the song ultimately “bent beautifully into shape between us from across the miles.” Built remotely, with ideas passed back and forth, ‘Shame!’ became a true crossfire – LiVES driving the choruses while Dolium took command of the verses. The result is a track that feels both fractured and unified: two bands, one shared fury…

LiVES vs Dolium – UK duel headline shows

15 May 2026 – The Dead Famous, Newquay

16 May 2026 – The Water Rats, London 

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Shame

17th April 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Since emerging as The Sunken Land not so long ago, David Martin has focused on his consistent push forward, and his systematic output. One gets the impression that this is much more driven by a desire to render new sonic art, than the capitalist compulsion, now being pushed by streaming sites, to continuously create ‘content’. And for that, I say ‘good’: content creation as a goal in itself is as anathematic to art as AI itself: creation for the pleasure of the act, however, is an entirely different matter.

This, the third release by The Sunken Land – and the third in four months – is perhaps the most ambitious yet, making deeper explorations into texture, tone, and contrast.

Admirably, there is no information about this release: it’s left for the listener to unravel. And why shouldn’t it be? While it can be interesting to learn where there’s a specific back-story, motivation, meaning, or method which is vital to a work, more often than not, the endless explication given by some artists gets to be a drain after a while. It can also make the writing of a review feel somewhat futile, as if half the job’s already been done.

As the title perhaps suggests, there’s a sense of ephemerality to the three compositions on up close everything melts into air. The first, ‘scoria bricks’ is an eight-minute piece which overlays a heavy, pulsating drone, dense with distortion, with soft, comparatively clean notes, which at times sounds like Earth attempting to cover Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Albatross’. The contrasting parts, while distinctly separate, form a full-spectrum sonic flow, which is both immersive and strangely soothing.

Some cursory research, meanwhile, reveals that a scoria brick is a type of blue-grey brick made from slag, originally manufactured from the waste of the steelworks of Teesside, common across the North-East of England, and that ‘the word Scoria originally comes from Greek, meaning “Excrement”, but came to be used by the Romans for a kind of volcanic rock’. It’s more than I can manage to avoid making some reference to ‘shit bricks’ here. However, I also discovered that these are precisely the bricks, manufactured in the late nineteenth century, used in the back alleys in the part of York where I live, which, on a personal level, brought an additional dimension to listening back to the track, a sense of connection with a part of the local history I had hitherto been unaware of.

Arriving with a tearing detonation of a chord, ‘into air’ is again simultaneously heavy yet delicate, even light. The experience is perhaps evocative of waves crashing against rocks, and observing rainbows amidst the spray – something rare and special, and so fleeting and impermanent – barely even tangible, and completely without substance – that it hardly seems to exist at all. In a blink, the phenomena has passed, as if evaporated, quite literally ‘into air’.

The third and final piece, ‘white sike’, is both the briefest and the gentlest of the suite, and given the voyage of discovery inspired by ‘scoria bricks’, it’s perhaps most likely in some way connected to White Sike Wood, a forest some way west and a shade north of Harrogate, rather than the White Sike in Dumfries And Galloway. Its picked notes and slow movement is the sonic equivalent of dappled sun – rather than Sunn O))) – through leaves, and over its duration, a tranquillity descends.

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6th May 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

It’s been fully three years since we last heard from Lunar Twin, and 2023 seems like a long time in terms of the scheme of things. Aurora was a showcase of shimmering blissed-out melancholia. Yes, a contradiction in terms, but one that made sense, with rippling synths, as well as sweeping waves which hinted at Disintegration era Cure paired with elements of sparse electropop and the softer end of the dance spectrum. It was the sound of the beach, but also of the sun setting, and bringing with it a low ebb, a ponderous emptiness, Bryce Boudreau’s vocals evoking the spirit of Mark Lanegan over a shuffling desert electro backing. Before that, Ghost Moon Ritual explored recent bereavements, and plundered particularly bleak terrain.

‘Disappear into the earth’ doesn’t deviate a million miles from this template, and that’s all to the good. It’s a shade more uptempo than much of both Ghost Moon Ritual and Aurora, an undulating bass groove paired with a vintage electro beat reminiscent of The Human League.

But beneath the seeming optimism of the lyrics and the buoyant retro drum rolls – we’re talking circa ’83 pow pow pow pseudo toms here – there’s a certain sense of pessimism, a low-level gloom. As such, this is a song which presents a duality. It’s not quite the quintessential sex and death equation, but most definitely delves into the territory whereby optimism and pessimism, fatalism and euphoria collide at a crossroads that’s both literal and philosophical.

‘gonna lay right down it the dirt disappear in the earth we are forever when it rains when it’s dark the spirits in your heart, we can be anything that we can dream’, Boudreau sort of rasps, sort of rumbles, sort of croons: again, the delivery hangs in some sort of intersectional space.

‘Disappear into the earth’ is a deft slice of dark electropop which captures the vintage vibe to a rare extent, but goes far beyond that. The form and delivery is low-key, understated, but it lands, coming in below the radar and resonating in subtle ways. It’s a welcome return.

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Christopher Nosnibor

One measure of how much I’ve enjoyed a night is by volume the notes I’ve made. It’s not a hard and fast rule, but fewer notes tend to indicate that I’ve been too immersed in the performances – and likely being social in between – to write much. And so it is that I returned home tonight with a bunch of blurry photos and the grand total of fifty-four words.

Yes, for their one-year anniversary gig, Utterly Fuzzled have laid on a truly top-class lineup – and it’s drawn a deservedly significant crowd. And the gong is back! A feature of the early events, it’s a welcome return for this signature piece of instrumentation, which variously heralds the opening of a set, or otherwise

Sheffield’s Duck are making their Fuzzled debut, and showcase a northern post-punk style that emanates authenticity, due in no small part to their vintage drum machine and synths which define the sound. They had issues with their levels throughout the set, taking a song or two before the drum machine cut through some particularly murky, bassy guitar and the dominant synths, only to sink back beneath the waves two-thirds of the way through. But then the tide was in their favour, they were ace, with a crisp pop edge and some nice harmonies. In places, they reminded me of short-lived and criminally underrated goth-pop act Sunshot (whose guitarist, Toby Bricheno, is the brother of Tim Bricheno, formerly of All About Eve and The Sisters of Mercy).

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Duck

It wouldn’t be an Utterly Fuzzled event without one of the various projects of the organisers on the bill, and tonight we get a – comparatively rare – outing from Chaffinch, which in terms of lineup is essentially Knitting Circle plus an additional guitarist. Sonically, they are somewhat different. Precisely what they sound like seems to be a topic for debate, with different people hearing different things, and with no recordings, it’s impossible to verify. To my ear, it’s a cocktail of mathy post-punk with some c.86 indie jangle and a dash of shoegaze, which is perhaps best summarised as ‘chaffinchous’ (there you go, Jamie, the royalties from the coinage are in the post).

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Chaffinch

The aforementioned additional guitarist is a towering presence – both physically and sonically, and requires a lot of space for his expressive playing, playing in front of the stage, trading angular chords with Pete Dale, while Jo knocks out chunky, solid basslines by way of balance. Considering they’re debuting some new and recently revised material, they manage to keep it tight, and by the end of the set, all bar drummer Marc are in front of the stage.

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Chaffinch

Riff behemoths JUKU never disappoint, and tonight they’re fully pumped-up and giving 110%. They bring maximum riffs, and maximum rock ‘n’ roll, at maximum volume. On paper, comparatively primitive song structures, based around, repetitive chords hammered out hard is cool and all, but hardly a revelation. It’s not so much what they do, then, but how they do it: propelled by powerhouse percussion and blasting bass, the twin guitar assault forges a ferocious wall of sound. It’s not volume simply for its own sake, but with the function of rendering a visceral physicality to their performances. And they all play as if their instruments are plugged directly into the mains, with an electric, kinetic energy that positively crackles. Practically all of my photos of Dan Gott are unusable, his features blurred like a Francis Bacon portrait, and looking on, I feel as if my own face is melting in the face of the sheer sonic force tearing forth.

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JUKU

Any references likening the experience to being hit by a freight train, or a freewheeling juggernaut with failed brakes hitting terminal velocity as it screams downhill are entirely appropriate. But for all the noise, the three-way vocals and some deft detail within the guitar work demonstrates an attention to melody and nuance: they very much do have songs. ‘Out of Control’ is a straight-up grunger in the vein of Hole.

Irked were second from top of the bill at the first Utterly Fuzzled on 10th May last year (and with Crumbs and Slime City also featured, it’s possible to now look back and see just what a statement of intent this was). They’ve come quite some way in that time, having released their debut album, The Grievance at the start of the month, and won a high-profile fan in the form of none other than Simon le Bon. If they were phenomenal a year ago, they’re even better now. The formula is classic, vintage punk, with short, sharp songs focused on three-chord riffs played hard and very, very fast, with the lyrics hollered just and hard and just as fast. Irked do pissed off and angry, but they also do fun. Not only are they incredibly entertaining, but it’s clear they’re enjoying themselves, too: Helen may be endlessly pacing, lunging, clambering, in the crowd and in your face, but she’s equally prone to fits of giggles.

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Irked

It’s guitarist Simon who delivers the chat and banter, griefing his bandmates in a good-natured way, and oftentimes absolutely hilarious, although ahead of the last couple of songs, he does pause to reflect on the state of the nation and the dire prospects we face in the wake of last week’s council elections, but taking the opportunity to praise the community spirit of nights like this. He’s absolutely right: what Utterly Fuzzled give us is more than great bands. There’s a warmth in the room (and not just because it’s packed and there’s no aircon): people come here and feel able to leave the bad shit at the door and see first-hand that there is good in the world. We need to not lose sight of this.

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Irked

They close their blistering set with a quick one-two of ‘The Hardest Man in Billingham’ and debut single ‘Backstreets’, making for a ferocious finale to a fantastic night.

The buzz in the room as people draw breath and process what they’ve just witnessed is unmistakeable. Here’s looking to another year of Fuzzled brilliance.

Shape Navigator is the electronic alter ego of the Kent-based composer, musician and sound artist Peter Coyte, whose recently issued debut album, Journal, has drawn favourable comparisons to fellow sonic explorers such as Craven Faults and Warrington Runcorn New Town Development Plan.

A video has recently been released, for the album’s opening track, the diptych ‘Tread Lightly On The Planet/Girl Taken’. Shot by Paul DaCosta in collaboration with Maria Fernanda Gavilan, it represents an altered reality or a dream state made manifest, in a way that could also be considered a ghost story.

Taken from live adaptations of soundtracks, ‘Tread Lightly On The Planet’ is from a dance piece devised with choreographer Dora Frankel that has an environmental theme representing the stop/start journey of navigating a self-destructing world. ‘Girl Taken’ is from a documentary by Francois Verster and Simon Wood about a baby girl stolen at birth and reunited 17 years later with her sister at school. Both pieces are interwoven with themes of loss, searching and adjustment.

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Coyte initially announced himself with a series of ambient meets prog house singles on Guerilla Records in the mid-‘90s, subsequently collaborating with Coldcut, Seal, David McAlmont, Heartless Crew and poet/author Salena Godden.

The years since have seen him establish a first-rate reputation as an electronic and experimental music artist, including significant contributions to sound art and installation projects, plus ongoing collaborations with filmmakers, theatre directors, choreographers and more. His work blends sonic experimentation with emotional depth, creating immersive experiences that engage and intrigue audiences.

Now, three decades after releasing his first single as Shape Navigator, Coyte has finally released his debut album, with Journal being a deeply personal sonic diary that captures two years of spontaneous creation and exploration on synthesisers. Each track originates from a live improvisation built from unrehearsed, unedited performances where instinct shaped its structure and emotion guided the sound.

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