Posts Tagged ‘Live Review’

The 113 / Mince / Disappear – The Fulford Arms, York, 6th May 2026

Posted: 7 May 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Generally speaking, the role of the journalist is to tell the story while staying out of the picture, although Hunter S. Thompson redefined the role of the journalist when he invented gonzo. In the main, I try to remain in the shadows (quite literally), particularly when it comes to live reviews, but sometimes, there’s a narrative switch that simply could not have been anticipated that drags you into the story as a participant, rather than an observer.

“Last time we were here, we got called ‘shouty shit indie’”, says the main singer from Mince, four songs or so songs into their set. It’s true, that did happen, and I stand by that description, too. Given that the last time they were here was April last year, supporting Gans, it would seem it’s niggled them a bit. But, if you’re going to get up in front of people, don’t expect everyone to love it. At least it was no Dream Nails scenario.

Before we move forward, let’s first go back, back, back. The reason I’m here is because The 113, from Leeds, have just released their second EP, The Hedonist, and it’s nothing short of explosive. The real test of a band is whether they can cut it live, though. So now they’re out on the road, grafting – not grifting – and York on a Wednesday night is always going to be a test for an up-and-coming band working to build their fanbase.

It’s not heaving, but there’s a respectable turnout, and first on are Disappear, who trade in jangly country-flavoured indie with a hint of shoegaze. They don’t use plectrums, and the singer / guitarist demonstrates some interesting playing technique. It doesn’t always hit the mark, and the same is true of the off-key approximation of singing. The drummer keeps having to get out from behind his kit to adjust the guy’s guitar pedals, too, which is just weird. They can play, but the songs are uninspired and uninspiring. Toward the end of the set there’s a song that sounds like The Wedding Present circa Bizarro, but again, it’s let down by the vocals. As a band, they aren’t terrible, but I can’t in all conscience say they were any good. The drummer – who is impressive – needs to be in a better band.

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Disappear

And so Mince inform the crowd – who are largely enthusiastic, in fairness – about the review of the last time they were here. I stand by that description, although in fairness, there’s a bit more to it than that: there’s some 60s psych in the mix, and plenty of energy to the performance, too. They have two vocalists – the first, with mop-top haircut, wigs out while playing guitar, while the second paces petulantly, swaggers, and gives it all that. But after maybe three songs, he mostly sits or squats at the back of the stage beside the drum kit, scratching his forehead with his mic and rubbing his face, looking knackered, and stays largely quiet. After coming hard out of the traps, it’s as if he’s out of energy and given up, while the rest of the band thrash on. It’s a bit odd, and oddest of all is that it’s an exact rerun of their previous show here, and on balance they’re better when he takes a back seat (literally).

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Mince

The 113 have built considerable momentum, and fast. Their debut EP, To Combat Regret was released just over a year ago, and The Hedonist continues that arc of nihilistic post-punk aggro delivered with visceral energy. How would it translate live, and how would they fill a headline slot? It turns out they’ve got a solid album’s worth of material, which comfortably fills an hour with no long-winded waffle. They don’t need to pause for political platforming, or pass sociopolitical comment, since it’s all there in the song, which they pack in tightly. And they do so it a nonchalant confidence, too: they’ve got their sound absolutely nailed, and it’s a thick, dense sound, and crisp drums cut through, punchy percussion played with perfect precision. Much of the guitar work is sculpted feedback, but there are steely chords overlaid with sinewy lead parts, and there are times when I’m reminded of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, another of Leeds’ finest from when the city was the spawning ground of the goth scene that emerged from post punk.

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The 113

They’re electric from start to finish, slamming in with ‘Leach’, and play with an urgency that’s impossible to manufacture. Each band member brings something specific, the towering bassist lurking in the background hammers out hefty grooves. The guitarist plays so hard he busts his A string four songs in, and because they’re not about to let up the momentum, takes another four songs to finally manage to replace it. They simply don’t pause for breath, they keep their heads down and blast them out. ‘When I Leave’ is a mid-set standout, and ‘Entertainment’ is nothing short of scorching. Set closer ‘Conscience’ is a lacerating blast and bang, that’s it, done. The 113 are a band who have got everything down – they hit hard, clinical, brutal, high impact. They’re already making inroads into Europe, and things will likely be quite different come this time next year…

Utterly Fuzzled 7.5: Bhajan Boy / Lou Richards / Piró / Andrew DR Abbot / Jo Dale – Fulfordgate WMC, York, 23rd April 2026

Posted: 24 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

It may be numbered 7.5 in the Utterly Fuzzled catalogue, but there’s nothing ‘half’ about this event. Showcasing quieter and more acoustic-based acts than usual, it does mark something of a departure from their usual mix of indie / alternative / different / stuff, but this stacked five-act bill still brings variety and quality in equal measure.

The joy of these nights is that you can turn up without knowing anything about the majority of the acts and still know there’ll be plenty of interest, even if it’s not all to your taste. Put another way, an Utterly Fuzzled night is not dissimilar to how it was listening to John Peel: a mixed bag, you might not love all of it, but it would never be dull and you’d always come away with something new that made an impression. And tonight is absolutely no exception.

Jo Dale – event co-organiser and bassist with local favourites Knitting Circle is on early doors, nervous and questioning the wisdom of putting herself on for a solo acoustic set – doesn’t make the obvious choice of playing versions of Knitting Circle songs. Oh no. Instead, it’s a whole new set of songs played on acoustic bass, one of which was penned mere hours before when she realised her set was too short. The combination of nerves and newness make for a slightly shaky start, but she’s a deft tunesmith and the audience is behind her (metaphorically speaking, that is) and she finds her feet and confidence over the course of her handful of songs.

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Jo Dale

Andrew DR Abbot is an old hand, and a longstanding feature of the DIY scene in the North. It was more than a quarter of a century since I first stumbled upon him playing baritone guitar as one half of That Fucking Tank, supporting Whitehouse at The Grapes in Sheffield. Whitehouse were too quiet and rather disappointing on that occasion, and TFT were the act of the night by miles. While now performing – again with James Islip, and still with the baritone guitar – as Lands and Body, he’s also doing solo stuff which is an electroacoustic sort of set up, involving field recordings by way of a backing to guitar that’s looped and layered. He’s at ease on stage, and the set simply flows. Starting with a 12-string guitar and switching to an eight-string, Abbot deploys a bottle, a tiny bow, and various other tools to augment some technically proficient picking and fretwork. Cascading notes create an immersive, atmospheric continuous piece which transitions through a sequence of passages. To say that it’s ‘nice’ may sound weak and noncommittal, but as a listening experience, that’s exactly what it is, and I find myself feeling calm but subtly exhilarated.

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Andrew DR Abbot

Piró – over from Spain and touring alongside Andy Abbott – plays vibrant folksy songs with a Latin flavour, routing an acoustic guitar through some pedals with loops and distortion making for some interesting sounds. His set was marred somewhat by some noisy sods at the back who talked and laughed constantly, and talked and laughed louder during the louder parts. But like a pro, he kept a level head and simply played on, and gave us some nicely worked loops and guitar detail in songs performed with heart.

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Piró

Lou Richards’ set was a compact affair comprising just four songs, the last of which was a John Cale cover performed alongside one of her former bandmates. But less is more, particularly when it comes to poetical words paired with delicately picked clean electric guitar. It’s pleasant, a very different kind of folk, about hedgerows and heritage, nature and nurturing.

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Lou Richards

Bhajan Boy is sporting a Fall T-shirt and brings big drones which form the basis of a set that builds slowly and deliberately, with some clattering and clanking that adds considerable texture. It’s only gradually that the drone evolves into a dense noise, as the set bhuilds subtly in layers and volume. Twenty minutes in and I’m wondering how much further he can take it, how much more he can add. That’s when he starts on the bellows and the sound really swells to a huge swashing sonic tide, rendered all the more full-spectrum by bleeps and crackling distortion, before gradually pulling back through a very long tapering wind down.

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Bhajan Boy

It’s an immersive soundscape, which is very different from the rest of the lineup. This in itself is the quintessence of the Utterly Fuzzled ethos, and in a time where live music is struggling and touring is difficult, a night like tonight stands as a beacon.

Froglord / Space Pistol / Troll Mother – The Fulford Arms, York, 21st April 2026

Posted: 22 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Suspicious Liquid had originally been down to open this evening’s dark proceedings, but they’ve been replaced by Troll Mother. While not getting to see Suspicious Liquid again is disappointing, southern power sludge duo Troll Mother are everything their name suggests… or are they? They’re more Mötörhead than Melvins, with a hardcore punk edge in places. They also boast an absolutely fucking MASSIVE drum kit, meaning that when the drummer takes on vocal duties – something they share – it’s not always immediately obvious because he’s largely obscured by a huge bank of toms and a swathe of cymbals. They make a cracking racket, too, with next to no pauses for the full duration of their half-hour set.

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Troll Mother

Space Pistol bring the riffs, and they do evoke Melvins, as well as Faith No More, and Hawk Eyes, among others. The three are decked out in matching orange boiler suits and the bassist, who has a board with about 36 pedals plays with his face. He also leaps and bounds – and yes, positively cavorts – about the stage with a flamboyance that’s uncommon to a bad that are this big on hefty riffs. There are false endings galore, and at one point they lock statue-like positions and maintain silence for maybe a good twenty seconds, during which time you could hear a pin drop. They absolutely love this, to the extent that it seems that this moment is a career high point for them. Since they’ve come all the way from Milton Keynes for this, we’re pleased that York is a memorable show for them, and I’m pretty sure they’d be welcome back up here any time.

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Space Pistol

Froglord, meanwhile, are making a return visit after just eleven months. The concept is pretty ludicrous, the stage show even more so: a stoner / doom band all about amphibians, kitted out in masks and arranging their sets as some form of swamp-centric ritual. The fact that they’ve eked this out across six albums now is nothing short of remarkable. But the fact that every show is an event, shaped by that sense of occasion and ritual is part of the appeal – that and the fact the performances are entertaining and they really know how to riff.

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Froglord

But there is a certain serious element to the band (not that heavyweight sludgy riffs in themselves aren’t serious), in that they’re genuinely eco-conscious, and their frog fixation isn’t all just japes, with 100% of the proceeds from digital sales of their new album, Lower & Slower Vol 1, released in March, are being donated to the Waterfowl & Wetland Trust (WWT) – the wetland charity, as well as 50% of all physical media and merch profits. Or, as they put it, ‘At it’s [sic] core, Froglord have always been an environmentally [sic]-driven band. Through their fundraising and tale of an amphibious deity, reeking vengenace [sic] on humanity for the environmental destruction they caused.’ Personally, I like them even more for this. Once could reasonably argue that just a handful of the world’s billionaires could eradicate poverty and save the planet and not even notice a reduction in lifestyle and that Froglord’s sales aren’t even a drop in a puddle in comparison, but that’s not the point: the point is that these guys actually care, and are using their platform for good.

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Froglord

They also put on a great show. It’s no huge development on the last time around: their website positions it as follows: ‘Returning with brand new masks, costumes, and a 6th studio album, Froglord deliver another massive offering of amphibious swamp doom. Recorded live in the studio in a single take, Lower & Slower briefly pauses the band’s concept storytelling of the Tale of The Froglord saga, instead revisiting six previously released tracks from across their discography’. And the fact is, it works: tonight’s performance feels very much like a consolidation, and they seem particularly focused, the set’s structure absolutely honed to perfection in every way. They drop a powerful cover of ‘Iron Man’ early in the second half of the set, and in many ways, this speaks for itself. The bassist plays wearing a frog glove puppet for a while, and after the ritual circulating of the giant rubber toad later in the set, said toad is then used to bash bass strings before eventually tucked in the crook of an elbow in a more friendly fashion for a time.

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Froglord

Admirably, they never break character for a moment: this is outstanding theatre. It’s also outstanding, riff-driven fun. All hail the Froglord!

Andracca / Misko Boba / Bruul / Darkened Void – The Fulford Arms, York, 22nd March 2026

Posted: 23 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

It’s a good thing it’s not raining or bitterly cold, as they’re running late setting up. Consequently, there’s a hoard of black clad folks milling about outside waiting to be let in – although thankfully, we’re allowed to go and get drinks from the bar to bring back outside. In fairness, it’s a rare thing here, and many much bigger venues are prone to opening the doors a lot more than ten minutes late. Nevertheless, I’m glad I decided to wear a hat, because Spring is still in its early stages and there’s a nip in the air.

It’s still winter inside, though, as we kick off a night of back-to-back black metal. But who knew there were so many shades of black? The four acts on tonight’s bill are all denominations of black metal, but couldn’t be more different.

Darkened Void, from Hull – yes, that’s a ‘u’ and not an ‘e’ – promise ‘melodic death black metal’. How this translates is that some of the guitar work is a bit Brian May at times, and there are some epic choruses in the mix. But there is much heavy darkness to behold, too. They’re certainly tight, and are at their most powerful when they put their heads down and churn out the monster riffs, which benefit significantly from the heft of two guitars.

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Darkened Void

Bruul, purveyors of ‘barbaric black metal’ who hail from York have their priorities right, sorting the incense sticks before their guitars and mic stands. This seems pretty civilised, if a tad bohemian, rather than barbaric. But they bring the density with a solid wall of the filthiest guitars and hell-for-leather drumming to deliver a brutal and relentless rabid blast of bestial fury. They’d probably put some effort into their makeup, but playing in near darkness they probably didn’t need to – they’re all but invisible but for the lead guitarist’s white trainers – although the atmospheric presentation certainly heightened the impact of their pummelling racket. The sheer force of their set is nothing short of stunning, and to his this level of volume and intensity so early in the night is staggering.

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Bruul

Misko Boba are the main reason I’m here after they devastated my ears in this same venue at the tail end of 2024. While being based in York, they’re a band of international origin – vocalist Kanopa is Lithuanian by origin, and her delving into Lithuanian folklore adds a level of mystique. More than that, her stage presence is nothing short of terrifying. But there’s a lot more happening here: the demonic shriek of the blood-smeared singer is paired with churning guitar work and gut-juddering five-string bass. Perhaps singing in Lithuanian (the setlist features an English translation beneath each of the song titles) adds a dimension of otherness, but everything about their performance is blindingly intense. They play hard and fast – very fast. What on the surface sounds like a blizzard of noise is, in fact, highly detailed, and the pace of the fretwork and percussion is dazzling. The effect, ultimately, is so powerful as to kick the air from your lungs.

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Misko Boba

Andracca purport to bring us black metal ‘devoted to suffering… To a Bare the Weight of Death encapsulates 5 years of grief plagued with successive deaths…’ says their bio. With faces and arms smeared with black and a massive skull (what it’s supposed to have belonged to is a mystery) on stage, they’re the quintessence of black metal. But they also highlight the tightrope that is black metal – the fine line between full-throttle, immersive rage and corny theatrics.

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Andracca

‘Thank you!’ vocalist Kieran Dawes rasps, in character, before, in a normal and very polite voice, ‘can I get more vocal in the monitor, please?’ In an instant, the spell is broken. Whereas Bruul maintained the magic by staying mute and just playing the songs, and Kanopa of Misko Boba relaxed into an affable character between songs and switched into fiery demonic mode for the songs themselves, Andracca can’t maintain a consistent approach. Perhaps more cringey than that, though, is the fact that in terms of posturing and cliché, they’re a bit Spinal Tap, but thankfully the drummer doesn’t explode. That said, I seem to be alone in finding the lofted guitars, playing back-to-back, and the power poses rather daft, and the packed crowd laps it up with pumping fists. Seriously, they are well into it, especially the front rows, and this reciprocal energy loop makes for a great atmosphere – and there’s no mistaking the technical skills or epic nature of the songwriting of Andracca, whose forty-five minute set features just seven songs. There’s new material on offer, and they conclude with the seven-minute ‘Oceans of Fire’.

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Andracca

They’re probably the third best band on the bill tonight, due to presentation more than content. But what tonight demonstrates is just how strong the metal scene is round here. Despite what seems to be an ever-diminishing number of venues and the ongoing cost of living crisis, it’s heartening that there are so many quality bands around, and people willing to stump up to go and see them – especially on a Sunday night.

Suspicious Liquid / ATKRTV / World Coda / The Expression – The Fulford Arms, York, 20th March 2026

Posted: 21 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Hang around a scene enough and you come to recognise certain promoters and gauge the quality of the lineup by their name on it. Pasky has quietly, unassumingly, come to be one of those promoters. Three of the acts on tonight’s bill have already been featured – extremely positively – here at Aural Aggravation, meaning the quality of the night was assured in advance.

Sure enough, The Expression, who caught my ear last autumn make for a super start to the night with their brand of dreamy shoegaze, which features some nice strolling basslines. Smoke fills the stage – perhaps a little more than planned – and serves to accentuate their brooding melancholy atmospherics. There’s an aching sadness to their songs, and a great mix out front does them justice.

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The Expression

The night’s unknown quantity, World Coda come on like a gothed-up Curve at first. With a machine subbing in lieu of a drummer (seems to be a theme emerging with London-based bands coming to York having lost their percussion player – one can only hope it’s not some kind of a curse), the murky beats pulse through some shimmering post-rock / shoegaze hybrid with ethereal vocals and crunching (headless) bass tones. There is an immense sound. Then, from nowhere, Yao emits a black metal howl… Then she switches to a gloriously operatic style, without changing expression or posture. It’s incredible to watch this unreadable performer produce such an array of vocal styles without even blinking. In fact, everything about World Coda – appropriately named, as this is music which sounds like witnessing the end of the world in slow-motion – is incredible. The sound is dense but delicate and detailed, and the drums well programmed, and when paired with that ripping bass, it’s like a black metal Slowdive with Big Black’s rhythm section. The elements of their music are all familiar, but assembled in such a way as to be unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It’s tear-inducingly beautiful, and immensely powerful. The dark pop rush of ‘Sleepless Dawn’ is sheer perfection. There are stunned and euphoric expressions around the room.

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World Coda

To say ATKRTV have a hard act to follow is an understatement, but benefit from being completely different in every imaginable way. The slow-build instrumental intro with peaks and troughs does nothing whatsoever to preempt the raging hardcore attack of the second song. They’ve come on a way since December: they present all the same elements as then, with hints of Bleach era Nirvana, Mudhoney, The Jesus Lizard, etc., with lurching, jarring riffs played hard and fast midst shrieks if feedback, with beefy bass and thrashing drums, and they still play with the same explosive energy, but they’re more together, more precise this time around, and all the better for it.

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ATKRTV

Suspicious Liquid are relaunching their eponymous debut album, which was released in November, and from the start, it feels like an event. They start atmospheric, instrumental, the three instrumentalists on stage, building tension. Vanessa makes an Entrance. At first, we hear her but she’s not on stage. The first bold riff of the set surges, and suddenly she appears. They’ve always been a strong live act with a sense of theatre, but tonight, this is a real performance. Into the second song, and she’s straight off and leading the mosh pit.

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Suspicious Liquid

It’s not my ears deceiving me, or the fact that I’m revved after three back-to-back acts who would all be worthy headliners: Suspicious Liquid are bigger, bolder, heavier, and Vanessa stronger in voice, more confident than any time I’ve seen them previously. Tonight feels like the show they’ve been building up to. As a band, they’re locked in a zone and bursting with energy. Again, they straddle numerous genres and amalgamate them with a unique twist: yes, there’s stoner and doom and heavy psychedelia and even a dash of Sabbathesque occultism in the mix, and they sure bring the riffs, and while they’d probably be at home on New Heavy Sounds, you wouldn’t say they sound like any other act, drawing in as they do subtle elements of jazz in the compositions, and there are some strong hooks amidst the athletic vocals.

Sustained moshing breaks out two thirds through the set. It’s bloody roasting and they turn up the heat with the album’s opener ‘Bogman’, and they draw the set – and the night – to a blistering climax. But just what was the ‘suspicious liquid’ in the chalice they passed around the audience? No-one’s saying…

TVAM / The Sick Man of Europe – Hyde Park Book Club, Leeds, 3rd March 2026

Posted: 7 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

A couple of mates had picked this one out and suggested I might like it, and, as my diary was looking pretty sparse at the time, I thought ‘why not?’ Some brief scanning of releases led me to expect a night of electro-based post punk, some synth-pop of a darker persuasion. The reality was considerably darker than that, and pretty much straight-up goth, even if the majority of the crowd didn’t recognise it as such – by which I mean, they looked more like they’d be into Gary Numan than The Sisters of Mercy. So where are we at? Goth by stealth? Said crowd was an interesting mix, an almost even split of old sods, and lanky buggers young enough to be their kids – or mine, I suppose.

The Sick Man of Europe – raved about by a mate who’s more of an indie persuasion – are in some respects reminiscent of early Depeche Mode but darker, heavier, more industrial. They bring the pulsating repetition on Suicide, with a heavy leaning towards DAF. For the second song, they segue ‘Movement’ and ‘Obsolete’. The studio versions are tight slices of Krautrock, and nice enough. Live, everything is amped up and the result is something more like covers of ‘Ghostrider’ as performed by The Sisters of Mercy, or even Foetus. The flat baritone monotone of the studio recording takes on a new dimension live, too, at times reminiscent of the booming grave-and-gravel drawl of Chris Reed of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. The sick singer spends considerable time charging back and forth in front of the stage and occasionally ventures further into the crowd. They take things up a good couple of notches live in comparison to the studio recordings, the clinical sterility converted to crackling energy. They’re tight, tense, and gothy as hell.

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The Sick Man of Europe

The same is true of TVAM, an act I’d always taken as being a bit 6Music electro-indie. Again, the difference between their studio work and live show is the key here. The work of just one guy in the studio, the live act is transformative, with live drums and guitar. They play the new album, Ruins, in full and in sequence. It takes confidence in an album to do this, but it’s an album to have confidence in, without a weak track. The song titles and lyrics flash on the screen at the back of the stage in real time, with striking images projected during instrumental passages. In combination with the lighting and smoke, it makes for a strong visual performance. The sound, too, is fantastic, the swirling guitars hazy, the drums crisp and bright.

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TVAM

On the bass-led ‘Real Life’ they perfectly replicate the drums from ‘Lucretia My Reflection’, and ‘Powder Blue’ is indisputably a dark pop gem with a dense shoegaze feel.

The final segment of the set piles into the depths of the back catalogue with relish, hitting us with ‘Porsche Majeure’ and ‘Double Lucifer’, before closing with ‘Total Immersion’, the last track from their 2021 debut Psychic Data.

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TVAM

Oftentimes, studio-based projects can lose something in the translation to the live setting, but by taking a completely different approach to the format, TVAM show different aspects of the songs and imbue them with new depth and energy.

As a lineup, the two acts compliment one another well, and in both delivering punchy sets (Sick Man’s set was bang on half an hour, TVAM played for 45 minutes), they gave us an exhilarating night.

The Hangnails / Heavy Bloom / The John Conference – The Black Horse, York, 5th March 2026

Posted: 6 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

The monthly Horsemusic nights at The Black Horse in York have very quickly become a showcase for emerging and established local and regional talent. The venue makes sense: it’s within yards on the city walls, and with regular quizzes and the like, the pub is very much community orientated, and has a quality selection of local and regional hand-pulled ales, all at a flat rate of £5.10. Given the geography and general climate, this is impressive – and the nights bring in a decent crowd. Putting on college bands and the like who are likely struggling to get a foot in the door on the live circuit gets people down early doors, too, although it does mean that I feel like an absolute fucking fossil at the ripe age of fifty, ordering a pint of pale while being buffeted by rucksacks and shoulder bags as people around me clamour to buy Cruzcampo and white wine by the gallon.

Tonight promises the usual quality, with the online preview offering ‘the mighty The Hangnails, Shoegaze Dream Pop from Heavy Bloom and The John Conference pumping out Indie Psych Rock’.

The John Conference, it turns out, are infinitely more complex than the ‘indie psych rock’ tag may suggest. There’s a bit of Pulp and a bit of early Britpop going on early in the set perhaps, but despite the guitarist having a Suede sticker between his pickups, this is mostly indie with a more 80s vibe. They’re a little bit rough and ready, but actually, it’s adds to the appeal – they’ve got songs and they can certainly lay, with some quite detailed and occasionally proggy basslines dominating the sound. Then, at times, they come on more like early Wire.

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The John Conference

Their sole cover is of King Crimson’s ‘One More Red Nightmare’, which is unexpected, but sits well in what is a wide-ranging set. There’s a lot to unpack here, and it’s all good.

Heavy Bloom favour mid-pace understated, introspective songs with a gentle jangle which will suddenly blossom into soaring shoegaze swirls. After testing out a new song for the first time, which likely worked better than their assessment, the closer to this pleasant, and at times hypnotic, set is a slow-burner which builds to a magnificent sustained crescendo.

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Heavy Bloom

What’s remarkable is the standard of young emerging bands right now. So many step out with their songs, their style, their sound, and presentation down. Time was when bands would form and take to the stage before they’d even learned more than three chords. You couldn’t get away with that now. This is, I feel, a mixed blessing. It means you’re unlikely to hear many really ropey bands, but there’s not much of the old punk ethos in evidence.

The Hangnails have come a long way. They’ve certainly refined every aspect of their form since they emerged as a squalling garage duo blasting a wall of treble. And yes, they have mellowed, too. Considerably.

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The Hangnails

A few of the songs in tonight’s set are positively anthemic – something inconceivable in their early years. The addition of a third member on bass and synths and bringing laptop layers in, which was seemingly coincidental or approximate to their dropping the ‘…and’ part of the name, has certainly been a significant factor in the expansion of their sound, and no doubt their sonic horizons. Nevertheless, it’s incredible to hear a band sounding this polished and this immense in a pub setting, particularly considering that only the vocals (and probably keyboards) are going through the PA and what we’re getting out front is backline and unmiced drums. Steven Ried wouldn’t need mics on his kit in a venue five times the size: however much they’ve toned down the racket, he is still a phenomenally powerful drummer. And, truth be told, they’re a phenomenally powerful band. Having slipped out a few singles in recent months, perhaps we can now hope for the long-awaited new album showcasing their current sound.

Blair Bitch Project / A Void / Static Lives / Eddy’s Mistake – The Fulford Arms, York, 14th February 2026

Posted: 15 February 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

How is this even possible? Four bands – including one from London and one from Sheffield – for SIX QUID, in a venue where decent beer is £5.50 a pint and served in a glass? This is the grassroots venue experience, people. and The Blair Bitch Project are a classic grassroots story, having started out here, at The Fulford Arms, nervous as hell but full of potential, to strutting with confidence and not only launching their debut album, but a new phase in their career. We’ll come back to all of this after the absolutely mind-blowingly stacked supports.

Admittedly, my expectations for Eddy’s Mistake were low to lower. According to the gig preview, the York pop-punk outfit kindly invite you to feast on faeces then immediately perish. Yeah, you too, edgy mofos. My views on punk pop are no secret. But although they’re overtly US influenced in their styling, with vocals that flip from bubblegummy pop to something more abrasive, they’re more 70% punk and only 30% pop. The guitars are up in the mix and dirty-sounding, they’re fresh and fiery, with some harsh burns in the lyrics. ‘Fuckboy’ (if it’s called that – I didn’t spot a setlist and their online presence is clearly in its developmental stages) is a raging punk tune. They are so together and kick ass to the extent that I actually feel guilty for harbouring doubts. They’re straight onto the ‘ones to watch’ list.

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Eddy’s Mistake

Static Lives last played York five months ago, again alongside Blair Bitch Project and supporting Wench! – another Northern raucous female-powered punk-orientated band. Are you seeing a pattern here? In case not, now is a boom time for women in rock. I should perhaps reframe that: the world is finally starting to appreciate the fact that women don’t only rock, but oftentimes, with the need to prove themselves in the male-dominated culture in which we find ourselves, they feel a compulsion to rock harder. And rock they do, with two guitars giving some grit across some phenomenally urgent drumming. It has a swing to it, but also pace and some outstanding cymbal work. They are quite poppy, but nevertheless, they drive hard.

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Static Lives

Single cut ‘Modest’ is an early set standout. ‘Boom Boom’ (I think – the setlist, which features numerous word substitutions, shows ‘Boom-Cum’, which it’s not) brings a funky element to the set, and they finish with hooky early single ‘Social Anxiety’ before Lori hotfoots it back to Sheffield to do a DJ set. Nothing like keeping busy.

A Void have been on my to-see list since lockdown, meaning I was particularly hyped for this. They’re very much a London act, presumably because the economics of touring aren’t all that favourable and there are enough places in the capital to keep them busy, making this their first time in York. As they’re currently auditioning for a new drummer (again), the in-limbo core duo of Camille Alexander and Aaron Hartmann are playing an acoustic set, Hartmann swapping bass for guitar. But for an acoustic set, it rocks pretty hard: being a quintessential grunge band, the potency of simple chord structures paired with (more audible than usual) lyrics of angst has a palpable impact, in the kind of way Nirvana unplugged or Alice in Chains’ Jar of Flies demonstrated that behind the overdriven guitars and all the rest, there are strong songs – with vocals stretching to full-blooded Courtney Love-like screams. Recent single ‘Fish in Your Pocket’ is the second song of the set, in which ‘Newspapers’ stands out, before they close with ‘Stepping on Snails’. And Camille simply can’t stay on a stool for the entire set – she’s simply too much wild energy for that, and cuts lose, thrashing madly, legs flailing towards the end.

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A Void

Camille is effervescent and effusively chatty between songs, with a gush of positive messaging and a determination to use her platform to speak up on issues. And rightly so: anyone who says politics should be kept out of music is simply wrong. Life is political. Art is political. Politics shape our daily lives, and to deny this is sheer ignorance or delusional.

She’s also right that Blair Bitch Project is one of the best band names. So it’s a blow when at the end of their set, they announce that the film studio is forcing them to desist with its use. This feels like another example of big money crushing minor-league artists, but they’re not defeated. The album they’re launching tonight – which isn’t out for about a month, making this more of a prelude than a launch – will be released under the new name off Bitchcraft, which is a second strike of sheer punning genius.

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Blair Bitch Project

Tonight’s set shows they’ve a hell of a lot more about them than wordplay. Before starting, they line the front of the stage with (battery operated) candles which set the mood, and then plough into a blistering set which is half dark Sabbath-influenced heavy metal riffs and half hefty grunge power. They sound immense and rock so fucking hard. They’ve come a long way in a short time, and now sound so powerful and looks so assured. Drummer Lilly and singer / guitarist Amelie Sangster swap places for the raging grunge roar of ‘Rotten’, followed by ‘Superstitious’, and they’re both equally strong in both positions. Towards the end of the set, they chuck in a couple of covers – making interesting choices, with ‘My Cat’ by Jack Off Jill and ‘Jumpers’ by Sleater Kinney, and it’s clear they’re in their element, and not just because they’re in the home straight in what will stand as a pivotal performance in their career to date, ahead of venturing further afield, hitting Leeds for the first time soon. Closing with ‘Banshee’, driven by a solid grunge riff and concluding with a wild primal scream, it’s a triumphant set which draws the curtain on The Blair Bitch Project and prefaces a spectacular rebirth. Bring on the Bitchcraft!

Utterly Fuzzled 5.5: The Unit Ama / Knitting Circle / Flat Light – Fulfordgate WMC, 13 February 2026

Posted: 14 February 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

People are unpredictable. The world is unpredictable. And just when we think we’ve seen it all, a couple of days ago, US Attorney General Pam Bondi testified before the House Judiciary committee, making for TV the likes of which few of us have ever witnessed. We’ll return to this in due course, as it’s relevant beyond the fact that gig-going tends to provide respite and time out from all the madness.

And so it is that it’s hard to predict gig attendance, particularly when ticket availability is being touted to the thirteenth hour. But with a last-minute surge in attendance – seemingly because Flat Light (is that a pun?), playing their debut show, had managed to coax everyone they’d ever met out to see them – the place was packed early doors, which was unexpected for a cold dark night on Valentine’s weekend during the wettest and most depressing February in history.

Flat Light are up first. They’re five white office-type guys playing pedestrian indie. They were together enough, went down well, but apart from the last song – where they upped the tempo and came to life a bit, and in fairness, sounded really good – it was a pretty tepid, inauspicious start.

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Flat Light

Suffering from the lack of a soundcheck, Knitting Circle spend the first couple of songs working on their levels, and even then, the sound is a bit muffled – specifically the vocals and guitar. But given that guitarist Pete is also the sound engineer, the fact that they pull it together is beyond admirable, and closer to heroic. Since whittling down to a three-piece, they’ve really focussed their sound, and following a spell of pretty intense gigging, they’re well-honed, and as always, an absolute joy to watch. As is often the case when Knitting Circle play a hometown show, there’s a new song: this time, it’s ‘Witch Folk’ which speaks of the thousands of women persecuted for witchcraft, forgotten by history. It boasts a particularly angular guitar jangle. They close with a quickfire ‘Losing My Eggs’, and while fluffing the false ending / intersection, recover with grace and good humour. Mistakes happen: it’s how an act deals them which counts, and Knitting Circle very much rose above and came out on top of all of the challenges presented to them tonight, proving that DIY is not a synonym for amateur.

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Knitting Circle

The Unit Ama clearly spent some time on their soundcheck: they sound absolutely fantastic from the first note. On their last visit to York in the summer of 2024, they played a short set around the middle of a bill which also featured The Bricks and Teleost, as well as Objections and Cowtown (I clock a couple of Objections T-shirts tonight). Here, with room for a more expansive set, they seem simultaneously relaxed and energised. Their set is tight, but in disguise as something loose, improvised. It’s apparent, thought, that as much as there’s a keen intuition between the three of them, they’ve put some rehearsal time in.

Jason Etherington’s basslines are hypnotically cyclical, and paired with Christian Alderson busy jazz drumming, played with frayed drumsticks (and, at one point, a bow applied to cymbals), when they break out of the stuttery meandering segments to hit a groove, it’s blissful.

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The Unit Ama

They’re by no means a band who do chat or bantz, instead conjuring epic expanses of quiet improv while tuning up and reconfiguring – in such a way that the actual songs seemingly emerge from nowhere, rising out of swampy expanses of discord and drift, of clattering cymbals and a general sense of slow-swirling chaos. But before playing the penultimate song of the set, a new one called ‘In Your Shoes’ being aired for the first time, Steve Malley pauses things to rant about the insanity of Bondi’s testimony: he was visibly shaken by what he’d witnessed, and I felt it in my chest. He blurted rage about Bondi’s ‘blatant fucking cunting lies’, before apologising for his choice of language, amending it to ‘blatant fucking cunting mistruths’. He’s absolutely spot on, and this leads the charge into a full-throttle blast that’s punk rock – Unit Ama style (perhaps with a heavy hint of Shellac by way of a touchstone – and very much a departure. It’s ace, too.

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They’d planned to leave it there, but the audience convince them to give us an encore, which topped things off nicely. It seems that one thing you can predict is that a Fuzzled event at the Fulfordgate is guaranteed to be a good night.

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