Posts Tagged ‘Live Review’

Chameleons / Lol Tolhurst / Kahula – Stylus, Leeds, 21st October 2026

Posted: 22 October 2026 in Reviews, Live
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Christopher Nosnibor

Chameleons might be considered as being among the ‘also-rans’ of the early days of goth, along with the likes of, say, Rose of Avalanche and The March Violets. Despite gaining a solid cult fanbase early on, due in no small part to a stunning debut album, subsequently signing to Geffen in the mid-80s, as well as receiving substantial critical acclaim, they somehow failed to take off. Calling it a day after the release of their third album, Strange Times in 1987, they reconvened briefly at the turn of the millennium. Their latest reunion, now five years in, is approaching their longest continuous run, and has also yielded a new album and EP. And so here they are, arguably as popular now as they’ve ever been, and not as a nostalgia act but a going concern. The number of younger people in the audience tonight is also testament to this.

The doors are early – 7pm – and Kahula are on early doors – 7:10 – so play to a mere smattering of an audience. The five-piece from Manchester are like many of the new, younger emerging bands who are taking the post-punky / goth sound of circa 1984 as their template. They’re a bit early U2, with vocals which evoke Lloyd Cole and Ian MacCulloch. They’re competent, but uninspiring, and they’re met with polite applause.

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Kahula

Lol Tolhurst by way of a support act is quite something, and a definite draw here. In the wake of his two books, the most recent being Goth, which has been well-received, the co-founder of The Cure has been enjoying something of a career revival after the wilderness years which followed his expulsion from the band circa Disintegration.

Of course, his set of early Cure songs – from the period where was an active co-writer – isn’t a solo set, and he has a bassist and guitarist (who covers the vocal duties) accompanying his drums, and they open with a super-slow and supremely dolorous ‘The Holy Hour’. The bassist throws Peter Hook lunges. And then they’re straight into ‘A Forest’, which would have been more expected as a closer. ‘Siamese Twins’ is next after an intro from Lol which references the closing line and Sylvia Plath. Of course it’s bleak.

Tolhurst’s drumming is simple / sparse / motorik depending on your perspective, but hearing these early Cure songs live and in a – comparatively – intimate setting (Stylus has a capacity of 1,000) is, almost inevitably, moving, even in the absence of Robert Smith’s unique vocal. You can see from the body language that they’re feeling it onstage, too, inhabiting these oppressive sonic spaces.

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Lol Tolhurst

Their rendition of ‘A Strange Day’ isn’t instantly recognisable, and it doesn’t quite gel, mangling that essential lead guitar part. ‘M’, however, sounds perfectly crisp and brittle. The singer seems to struggle with some of the notes on ‘The Hanging Garden’, where the other two seem at their most comfortable. Lol introduces ‘All Cats are Grey’ as a ‘slightly different version’, and reminds us that they’re his songs too. He seems to have revisited a demo version or something for it, and it does provide an interesting insight into his contribution to the writing process for those early albums. It’s drummier than the studio version. Again, it’s the vocals which are the weakest element, and it’s perhaps worth noting that the guy onstage isn’t the one featured on the tour promo. Or perhaps not. ‘Three Imaginary Boys’ prefaces a band intro, before they give us ‘Boys Don’t Cry’, and at their scheduled end time, launch into ‘10:15 Saturday Night’ by way of a finale. And having promised a set of Lol-era Cure songs, that’s what they gave us.

Chameleons open a set loaded with newer material (five of the seven songs from Arctic Moon feature in the seventeen-song set) with ‘Where Are You?’, and they sound fantastic. Their LED backdrop is like a movie through the set., and I suspect some of it – at least – is AI generated, and I find a certain discomfort in this. Still, there’s nothing remotely artificial about the musicianship or the enthusiasm with which they play the songs.

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Chameleons

The jangling indie of ‘Lady Strange’ lands third, and sits comfortably alongside the older tunes.

‘I wish these songs weren’t still relevant,’ Mark Burgess opines before they drop the first truly vintage track of the night in the form of ‘Up the Down Escalator’ from Script of the Bridge.

Burgess’ voice is remarkably strong, and with two guitars, they sound muscular. Burgess looks office casual, and pretty limber, too. He swaps his bass for a 12-string acoustic for the epic ‘David Bowie Takes Me by the Hand,’ another one from the new album.

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Chameleons

He warns that Trump is just the prelude of worse to come before ‘Saviours Are a Dangerous Thing’, and they land ‘Soul in Isolation’ at the hour mark – and if my ears don’t deceive me, there are nods to The Beatles’ ‘Eleanor Rigby’ and ‘There is a Light that Never Goes Out’ by The Smiths’ slipped in along the way, giving something of a medley feel to this already huge tune.

Hearing ‘Swamp Thing’ with fresh ears and in a live setting, it’s easy to understand why they were hailed as they next U2. Meanwhile, the epic ‘Feels Like the End of the World’ is one of the standouts on Arctic Moon, and so it proves to be in tonight’s set, too. They wrap up a colossal set with the killer brace of oldies, ‘Second Skin’ and ‘Don’t Fall’. It’s incredible that songs of this vintage can still sound fresh, but then, it’s incredible that Chameleons are this good after all this time.

Deafkids / Kombi / Error Control – Boom, Leeds, 18th October 2026

Posted: 19 October 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Doors opening at 7 suggests an early start and early finish, and sure enough Error Control is on at 7:30. It’s very quiet in terms of attendance – so quiet initially I’m wondering if I’ve got the wrong night, but the beer’s decent enough and there’s some pounding, beat-heavy industrial noise pumping from the PA.

There’s a pattern emerging here: bands on respected underground / independent labels landing in Leeds to play to small but enthusiastic audiences play some of the most outstanding gigs I’ve witnessed all year. This was true of Might and Noisepicker when they played the Duck and Drake, and the same is true of Deafkids, who have brought Kombi, also from Brazil, along as the main support. It’s the tenth night of a world tour which has already seen them play mainland Europe, UK, and Ireland, with a stack more UK dates before heading back across Europe and onto Japan before a final haul round South America. These guys work hard. I do wonder if Angine de Poitrine’s long-sold out (and probably oversold) show at the O2 may have pulled some people away, and likewise the Ambient Leeds night at The Fox and Newt, but it doesn’t seem all that probable. So where the hell is everyone? Still, those present make up for number in terms of enthusiasm, and get to witness something special.

Error Control, playing blindfolded, creates a punishing wall of noise worthy of Merzbow. He begins by tentatively locating the monitor and draping the mic on it to generate a sustained feedback, which then goes through a succession of pedals and bits, which he tweaks and bashes to evermore brutal effect. It’s the kind of noise that’s both exhilarating and immersive, the harsh blast rendered even more intense by the use of only red lighting, which strobes. As he climbs up onto his bench in front of the stage, a potential health and safety nightmare reveals itself, but he gradually returns to the ground, where he proceeds to hail his pedal board onto the floor, and the set ends abruptly while he’s standing on the pedalboard and everything cuts out.

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Error Control

It’s only after I get home that not only have I seen him perform in person once before, but that performing with …(something) ruined, we’ve also featured alongside one another at two virtual gigs during lockdown.

Kombi’s set is a fine example of exploratory, experimental music, which reveals different facets as the set progresses. Billowing dark ambient with guttural growls gives way to fractured guitar and crackling contact work, a convergence of avant-garde and industrial. On the third piece, he unleashes Sunn O))) -like power chord drone. The second half of his set is a continuous extended piece built around dank loops and drones and wailing feedback, whereby the low frequencies bother the bowels and the shrill squall of treble terrifies the eardrums.

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Deafkids are having some technical issues and start twenty minutes later than advertised. Oh, but they’re more than worth the wait. And if they’re disappointed by playing to around twenty-five people, they don’t let it show, and their set is an absolute blinder.

They’ve not only captured the sound and feel of new album, CICATRIZES DO FUTURO (SCARS OF THE FUTURE), but take it to a whole other level live. Not for the first time, I’m amazed that there are just two guys up there: with a combination of pre-recorded drum loops, prerecorded and live guitar and extraneous noise loops, infinite delay on everything, especially the vocals, and some truly remarkable drumming, they conjure a dense, powerful sound, dominated by a thunderous barrage of percussion.

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Marian Sarine’s drumming is something to behold, often playing the congas with one hands while working his way around snare, toms, and cymbals with a stick, effortlessly switching to two sticks, and occasionally two hands. He smiles a lot, too. The resulting battery lands like Test Dept meets Swans, but with some techno breaks and a Latin twist. Oh, and there’s some looped beatboxing, too. Because they need more beats. It all builds to a head-shredding wall of noise. This ultra-percussive explosion is paired with abstract guitar work and vocals swathed in cavernous reverb and endless echo. It’s totally hypnotic, propulsive.

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With so much percussion, it’s got groove. It’s techno, trance, dub, shoegaze, and noise rock all at once. And some flute. It all makes for an intense fifty minutes. And it’s all done by ten past ten, which is ideal on a Sunday night.

Strange Pink / Flesh Planet / JUKU / The Bricks – The Fulford Arms, York, 11th October 2026

Posted: 13 October 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

I reckon I’ve probably said that both The Bricks and JUKU are my favourite current York band in the last couple of years. How can both things be true? Well, essentially because it’s too close to call. But that means that even without Strange Pink headlining, tonight’s lineup is guaranteed to be killer, one not to be missed. It also means that this is a face-off… who will win?

On the other side of town, GANS are playing at The Crescent. No doubt off the back of their supporting Pixies at The Barbican, they’ve won some new fans, but this is definitely the pick of the live action tonight, with four quality bands for a fiver – yes, a FIVER! – less than the price of a pint. It’s madness, particularly given that every act on the bill is individually worth way more than that.

The Bricks are headline quality on any night, and this is no exception. If I’m not mistaken, it’s been a couple of months since they’ve ventured out, and it seems that Gemma Kennedy has been building some pent-up energy and tension during that time, meaning that tonight, she’s on fire, not only with a commanding vocal performance, but a dominant stage presence, which sees her kick, lunge, stomp, and charge back and forth with barely a moment to breathe. They open with ‘Icarus’, and it’s clear from the very start that they’re on peak form – not that they have any other level of form, but tonight they seem to find an extra level. ‘Snake’ provides the slower segment after a new song which Gemma describes as their ‘indie’ song. ‘Modern Mirror’ powers home as a scratchy anti-AI anthem. She lines up the sheets with the lyrics to second new song, ‘Life Lesson’, where The Fall meets Hole. It’s mint – of course. But not a Polo, the mint with a hole – it’s definitely at least Extra Strong or XXX. Because they’re never anything less than awesome.

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The Bricks

A JUKU set feels like less of a gig than an event, and if we’re following the mint comparison, these guys are the Fisherman’s Friend mints of music. They don’t play frequently, but when they do… woah. What they do is full throttle rock ‘n’ roll, and they slam down riff after riff, a relentless riff machine, and while Naomi’s as cool and nonchalant as you like at the mic, Dan’s off in the back going full psycho Neanderthal, and the drummer and lead guitarist are just getting on with it, standing as if in the eye of a storm as a sonic maelstrom tears from the stage. The strolling swagger of ‘Hot Mess’ follows a blistering ‘What’ Penultimate song ‘Out of Control’ is straight up 90s grunge, but at 120 decibels and a hundred miles an hour. They’re not reinventing rock ‘n’ roll, by any means. But they are rediscovering the power of the volume control. Between them and The Bricks, my favourite York band remains a solid tie – but JUKU are by far the loudest York band, and they are an absolute rush.

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Juku

Where do you go from here? They’re not a band you’d want to Follow… unless you’re Flesh Planet. They’re kinda grunge, kinda noise rock, a bit industrial, and boast an immense bass sound… and an immense sound overall. The sound is dense and textured, and the arrangements are laced with synths which add depth and a certain smoothness, and it’s crisp and tight but with serrated edges. The bassist takes much of his inspiration from Lemmy, both sonically and visually. Cool: if you’re going to draw on influences, why not take your lessons from true legends? Here, we move from mints to wine-tasting analogies, because Flesh Planet offer a spicy blend that’s rich, dep, and dark, with hints of later Depeche Mode, Alice in Chains, NIN and Filter all in the mix The singer’s got a baggy, stretched, fluffy jumper and bleached hair, and clearly loves Kurt Cobain, but the vocals offer hints of Brian Molko when he’s not being screamy. But they’re so much more than an influence pic ‘n’ mix band. They’ve not only got some stomping tunes, but a tangible chemistry and a rare, raw energy. They’ve barely been going eighteen months, and shows like this should see them playing to substantially larger audiences in no time.

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Flesh Planet

And then there’s Strange Pink -featuring local(ish) legends Sam Forrest and Dom Smith. It’s been a fair while since the days of Nine Black Alps, but Forrest hasn’t been idle in the intervening years, currently fronting both noisy grunge duo Sewage Farm and Strange Pink, a quintessential grunge trio who take their cues from Sonic Youth and Nirvana. ‘Seventeen’ is a sad nostalgia song that brings the perfect balance of slackerism and the poppier end of Nirvana’s sound, and encapsulates everything that’s great about Strange Pink. As seasoned musicians, they understand the nature of the dynamic of the power trio, and the fact that there’s no space for a weak link or to carry anyone, and sure enough, they’re each on it, the sound driven by Dom’s powerhouse drumming. Holy hell, that man give it his all and then ten per cent. This is how it’s done.

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And to see four acts of this quality, where not only the standard but the energy – and the volume – is maintained throughout the night, is an intense experience.

Oort Clod / Chaffinch / BitchCraft / Llama Mollo – Fulfordgate Social Club, 19th September 2026

Posted: 20 September 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Llama Mollo have a lot of family and friends. And they’ve brought them all down. It feels more like a second cousin’s birthday party than five minutes after doors open for a gig showcasing a disparate bunch of bands when I arrive. My first thought is of how the grannies will take to Bitchcraft. My second thought was ‘good for them’. They’ve bought tickets and made the effort, which is more than can be said for many on a lot occasions, and maybe they’ll even have a good time.

The acoustic indie duo have some tidy tunes with poetical lyrics and deft guitar lines, and if they’re nervous making their debut, they don’t show it beyond the occasional awkward-sounding laugh. The reverb-soaked guitar part for ‘Inconspicuous’ has hints of Chris Isaak’s ‘Wicked Game’, and the song sees them share vocal duties for the first time in their seven-song set. In an unexpected plot twist, Lawrence (guitar and vocals) switches to electric guitar and takes the lead on the vocals for the last song, and there’s a drum machine pumping from the PA. ‘Mr Blue Shoes’ is post-punky and makes for quite the shift in every way, and, seemingly from out of nowhere, tells us that this is an act who have a lot up their sleeve, and much potential to explore. A very promising first outing, and one to add to the watchlist for 2027.

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Llama Mollo

BitchCraft spent their uni years developing their skills, and recently relocated to London to further evolve and to see if they can progress. On the evidence of tonight’s hometown return – holy shit. Leaps and bounds, leaps and bounds. There have been some moves in their ranks. Their new singer, Lily, is the former drummer who would previously switch with singer Amelie to front a couple of songs, and stepping up to take the mic on a full-time basis she’s really come into her own. It’s not just the vocals – which are so, so powerful, and she’s got a proper grunge roar that sends shivers down the spine and sets the hairs on the back of your neck aquiver – but she is a commanding presence who dominates the stage, and the entire room. The new drummer is powerful and energetic, too. The result is a set that’s raw, grungy, and finds them playing better than ever. New song ‘Loser’ hints at a poppier direction, and has swing as well as crunch. And then they close with a cover of L7’s ‘Shitlist.’ They absolutely nail it. They’re pure quality, and deserve a bright future in the big smoke.

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BitchCraft

There’s a certain element of controlled chaos about Chaffinch set – and a certain element of chaos without the control. The jarring interplay of the twin guitars sees them trading shards of treble over thick, rolling basslines and stop-start drums. The song structures aren’t conventional or even necessarily obvious, and there are parts which are semi-improvised, and not for the first time, I’m reminded of Shellac in they combine math-rock and noise-rock, discord and angularity. There’s not a moment where all four of them are on the stage (which makes getting a shot of the whole band a challenge, and the guitars are more often than not played in front of the stage and there are trailing cables and instrument swaps… although at least on this outing there’s enough concrete in front of the bass drum to keep the kit in place instead of encroaching forward towards the edge of what is a particularly bijou stage. But herein lies the joy of a Chaffinch set: there’s a physicality, a kineticism, to the performance, and just as the songs are in a state of continual flux, so there is perpetual movement on (and in front of) the stage, making for a hyperstimulating and highly entertaining experience.

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Chaffinch

Due to a late reshuffling of the schedule, Manchester’s Oort Clod, who should have been the main support before BitchCraft, find themselves in the headline slot. No pressure, then. They do a decent job of it, too, encouraged by a supportive and welcoming crowd, a respectable number of who have stuck around from the start. This is one of the things which makes these Utterly Fuzzled nights what they are: people turn up and are open to hearing different stuff, accepting they won’t love all the acts equally but providing a warm and accommodating atmosphere. It’s a DIY microscene unto itself, in some ways resembling that which centred around CHUNK in Leeds a few years ago, and the likes of which is rare – but absolutely vital for showcasing new and up-and-coming and niche acts.

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Oort Clod

Oort Clod present a set of two distinct halves: during the first, they’re a fairly middling jangly indie band in the British tradition of the mid-80s to early 90s. They avoid being twee, but are good fun. And then there’s the second half, which sees them turn towards a style that’s more US indie / college rock of the mid- to late-nineties. It’s a bit looser, more Pavementy. The switch is occasioned by a poetry intermission, during which bassist Richie, whose last gig it is before he goes travelling and exploring a career in writing reads a couple of pieces from his chapbook. It’s a bold move, which some would probably consider a bit wanky, but they wear their arty and literary leanings well, and with an admirable confidence. He is, after all, wearing a brocade jacket and thoroughly beaten-up hat perched atop his head, and if the wild amp feedback mars the moment somewhat, the fact they style it out with humour reveals the character of the band – and it makes them a good fit for Fuzzled, where there are no divas, no dickheads, and everything runs to time. And it’s a 10pm finish. All the win.

Might / Noisepicker – The Duck and Drake, Leeds, 17th September 2026

Posted: 18 September 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

This is a very different kind of gig vibe. I arrive way before there’s any music due on with a view to giving my brain a rest from stress with a book and a few beers. The Duck and Drake is a cracking boozer which boasts no fewer than fifteen cask ales. There are three gluten free offerings, for those who need to know these things, and several vegan brews. The Wensleydale Fire It Up IPA at 5% is a particular standout, but they’re all well-kept and the Old Peculier is superb.

Personal disclosure: I wasn’t feeling like turning out tonight. My motivation and confidence were through the floor this morning, and the prospect of heading off to Leeds on my own to an unfamiliar venue while the reliability of the trains, particularly getting home, was in question, had done little to compel me to venture out. But since Noisepicker – whose last two albums, both released via Exile on Mainstream – I had reviewed and enjoyed, had made the effort to come up from London to play a free show, and labelmates Might had made the effort to come from bloody Hanover, I knew I’d regret it if I yielded to my urge to retreat.

Shortly after my arrival, the pub’s invaded by a board of corporate tossers on a treasure hunt by way of a works night out, but they fuck off before too long, and I get to sup my pint while listening to the soundchecks, and it becomes increasingly apparent that I’ve made the right decision. Around nine, a cluster of beardies, hairies, and folks in black filter in and take up around the bar. And then the music starts.

Noisepicker are an intermittent band, and a classic example of a band who fit making music around dayjobs and whatnot. There was a seven-year gap between Peace Off and the latest, The Earth Will Swallow the Sun, and they’re not a big touring band. But on stage, they present an almost telepathic cohesion from the outset. ‘No Man Lies Blameless’ lands second as they fire up the heavy blues riffery after a slow, drawling start. Harry Armstrong’s phlegm and whiskey (or Newcastle Brown) vocals growl and howl all the pain, anguish, and anger at the state of humanity, and there are times in the set where he and drummer Kieran Murphy articulate this with raw primal screams, and it’s magnificently cathartic. ‘Chew’ starts almost jazzy before hitting its stride with a thick riff. When they slow it down and strip it back, as on ‘A Taste of My Dying’, it’s got a hefty swagger. ‘The Earth Will Swallow the Sun’ brings a barrage of percussion, Armstrong playing drum and guitar at the same time. There’s a cover of ‘War’ which kicks ass, delivered with guts and gusto, and landing between Motorhead and ZZ Top. They go low and slow for the set closer, and they kill it. The rapport between the two players is apparent, as is the fact they’re clearly loving doing what they do.

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Noisepicker

Making their UK debut, Might start their performance off the stage, with flashing lights, smoke and dark atmospherics, before a piano backing track starts… And then the drums kick in, followed by the and guitars. The sound is nothing short of mind shattering in its density. It’s hardly surprising with that towering backline which dominates the stage and this small room. They’ve not travelled light. On record, they sound immense. Live… they take the sound to a whole other dimension.

They way they’ve worked the sound – and the visuals – is remarkable. I’d been curious as to how the duo of Ana Muhi (vocals and bass) and Sven Missullis (guitar, vocals, drums) would contrive to multi-task, and what I first thought was a drum machine actually appears to be a recording of a live drum track, which is up in the mix at a volume which corresponds with a live drum kit. Consequently, it feels like there are three people on stage – and what’s more, it almost looks that way, too, as there’s a silhouette of the drums being played which – unless my eyes deceive me – is in perfect sync with the audio. And with Nosepicker’s kit on stage behind them, and an abundance of smoke, you actually get a sense of their being an extra body up there.

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Might

They churn out some monster riffs, which churn and grind, but there’s more than brute force and brutal volume happening here – there’s texture and layering, and what I can only describe as sonic alchemy. And what they conjure is something which renders the cover art for their second album, Abyss, as an aural experience, and it’s one in which time is suspended and you find yourself completely immersed and on another plane.

Stripping it back to a drone on Mrs Poise, the percussion comes from Sven striking the back of his guitar while it’s laid across his knees. The acoustic-led penultimate song ‘Tightrope Walk’ is almost folky, but nevertheless intense, Ana’s vocal delivery delicate and utterly captivating, before they close with ‘Zero’ – the final track on their eponymous debut – and it’s immense.

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Might

On the face of it, this – the first night of a little low-key package tour –was a pretty ordinary event. A couple of bands playing in a pub in a corner of Leeds. But, pitched on the premise of being 100% DIY, with free entry and serving to provide a drop of an antidote to the relentless shitness of the world, it proved to be so much more. The bands both gave it their all. The audience was small, but appreciative. They chatted with the bands, and bought T-shirts. They bought beer. And ultimately, it was pretty damn special. No corporate shit, no pissy lager in plastic cups. Grassroots music at its very best. No-one’s getting rich off this financially, but in terms of the humanity, the life-enrichment, and the inspiriting qualities of a night like this, we all end the night with wealth beyond measure.

Glasshouse Red Spider Mite / Speedreaders / Wolf Solent – The Fulford Arms, York, 16th September 2026

Posted: 17 September 2026 in Live, Reviews
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It’s a decent lineup and a pleasant evening. I’m down early doors and sitting with a pint of Vocation Heart & Soul listening to Slint and Drop Ninteens and Boris over the PA, and wondering where the fuck is everyone? It does seem to be a thing now, particularly at certain venues, where people will be outside the room until the band starts, and spend the time between acts outside, whether it be the bar or beer garden, as well. On a personal level, there are positives to this: it means I can make notes and sup in relative peace, and maintain a decent spot near the front, but it does seem a bit odd to see barely a handful of people around and a near-deserted bar, and with the number of people in the room barely touching double figures when the first act is due on, it feels like something’s amiss.

Still, Danny Barton’s a seasoned pro, and he’ll play to five people or five hundred without there being any difference in his performance. It seems like some time since he’s has been out as Wolf Solent, having been doing Sewage Farm stuff with Sam Forrest (Nine Black Alps) in recent months. They’re the kings of anti-promo, announcing the release of their new album by stating that they’re ‘deeply ashamed to announce that fuck it is our fifth and worst album yet. It’s out on 24 april as limited edition CD and all forms of digital garbage.’ For the record, Fuck It is brilliant. It’s still infinitely more promo than he gives Wolf Solent, and his solo work is a very different proposition from the roaring rock ‘n’ roll of Sewage Farm, which very much has all the hallmarks of a bedroom-based project – low-key, lo-fi slowcore with pedals, sequenced backing and drum machine. Switching his acoustic guitar for an electroacoustic 12-string, he conjures a swirling drone by way of a backdrop to his drawling vocals, delivered while hiding behind beard and hair.

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Wolf Solent

Speedreaders have often been represented by Dave Mudie performing solo on recent outings, meaning it’s been a while since I’ve caught a full-band set (my records indicate it was July last year, when they supported Needlework, and went on before Divorce Finance, who I’m still angry about. I know, I need to get over it, but fuck me. Anyway, Speedreaders. They’re consistent, they’re tight, they’re a quality act. There’s not much movement in terms of their set list, and no new material, but what they have is performed with assurance. They’re not a chatty band, and, on discovering Dave’s left his capo in the dressing room, there’s a protracted – and very quiet – pause. There’s considerable air between the notes during their slow, introspective, sad songs. They pick up the tempo for the final song, ‘Down Round’, which is a bit Wedding Present circa Bizarro, and ends abruptly and precisely on time.

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Speedreaders

Brighton’s Glasshouse Red Spider Mite are making their first trip to York, and they don’t seem too distraught to be playing to around twenty-five people: quite the opposite, in fact. They seem pretty chuffed that there is an audience, and an enthusiastic and supportive one at that, and for those still present (it has thinned rather after the local supports), they turn in a solid and dynamic set, delivered with energy and enthusiasm. It starts with a cacophonous samplefest, and there’s dialogue and narrative about spiders / mites spun between almost every song.

The liberal use of samples is reminiscent of Maybeshewill, although Glasshouse Red Spider Mite have vocals. Their overall sound straddles post-rock and shoegaze. Tonight’s set presents a band which has evolved significantly since their debut EP, and this could not be rendered with greater clarity than when they delve back to play ‘Everyone Loves You’ from What Do You Mean The Monster?… Hahaha… released in May of last year, and the new song which follows, which is a driving 90s-flavoured blast of energy that hints and Ride and Loop.

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Glasshouse Red Spider Mite

Comparing tonight’s performance with their recorded output to date suggests that Glasshouse Red Spider Mite are a band at a crossroads, and in the midst of a giant evolutionary leap. They sound absolutely fantastic, and seem like a band with a lot to give.

Time will tell, of course, but heading home in a heavy autumnal drizzle, it felt like this was one of those ‘I saw this band before they got big playing to barely any people’ moments. My mate always loves to tell me how we saw Editors at Fibbers in York play to three men and a dog before their debut album, and I saw The Young Gods play to barely more than that when touring Super Ready (and they were fucking incredible). Glasshouse Red Spider Mite have it all, and look and sound like they have the potential captivate a substantial crowd at The Brudenell. And if there’s any justice, in their next tour, they will.

Miško Boba / Hella Bore / Tame the Savage / Onion Terror – Micklegate Social, York, 14th August 2026

Posted: 15 August 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

A week ago, buying a ticket to see four metal bands for a tenner in a tiny basement venue seemed like a good idea. But then yet another heatwave happened, and arriving at the Mickelgate Social – something of a hipster bar just feet inside the city walls on what used to the York’s most notorious street for bars and nightclubs frequented by stag and hen dos and townies and other twats, which has gone rather more upmarket in recent years – damp and uncomfortable, I find myself questioning my sanity. The doors are 7:30, and I arrive some time after, but Tame The Savage are still soundchecking at 7:45 and Onion Terror are still to go. Provided I don’t collapse from heat exhaustion, I assume things can only improve. And, for the most part, they do.

Onion Terror are a duo: guitar, vocals, and drums and other backing off a phone. The guitarist is playing through a 5-watt practice amp that feeds back a lot, while the vocalist charges and leans and squats, alternately bellowing and growling, while sporting a pint balaclava. They clearly don’t intend to be taken seriously, but they are seriously good fun. Their eleven-minute set is a mash of all kinds of metal – primarily some mangled kind of grindcore, but with purposefully cheap-sounding drums and samples galore – consisting mostly vocal snippets about onions. It’s loud and it’s messy and makes for a great start to the night.

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Onion Terror

Tame the Savage trade in filthy punk, somewhat in the vein of Anti-Nowhere League. But what sets them apart from your meat-and-potatoes punk is the way the bass – played by the lead vocalist – carries the most weight, doing a lot of work on the upper half of the fretboard and the higher strings, and essentially playing it like a lead guitar, with a lot of mid and some distortion. But then, when he does drop to the lower octaves on the bottom strings, the impact is immense, a thick, rumbling groove melding with the hefty percussion. And the drummer looks like he’s having the time of his life.

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Tame the Save

Hella Bore’s bassist, wearing a facemask, baseball cap, and hoodie with the hood up – the dude must have been liquid inside that getup – approached me just before their set and requested no photos, so you’ll have to imagine him, and the singer, a stocky, shaven-headed guy with a waxed moustache, in a wifebeater and too-tight cutoff blue jeans shorts. Hmm. Perhaps this was why they didn’t want photos. The drummer, bearded and with plaited pigtails (when he removes the knitted balaclava with floppy rabbit ears) makes a nice addition to the visual. I’d like to report that they sound better than they look, and they do – although it’s marginal. It’s not that they can’t play: they evidently can. But what they play is like a Nu-metal Rage Against the Machine with Al Jorgensen’s vocals roaring over the top. The material is pretty leaden, the lyrics aren’t great and overall… It’s understandable why a large chunk of the audience take the opportunity to get some air during their set.

In contrast, Miško Boba have both their look and sound absolutely nailed, and just keep on getting better. They’re a cohesive unit, and each member brings something specific, but it’s in the way they come together which is where their strength lies. During the slow, slugging riff sections, they all bang heads in perfect union, the gut-churning five-string bass underpinning the twin guitar assault. At the back, Leviathan’s powerhouse drumming very much drives everything along, but it’s apparent that they all recognise that in Kanopa they have a formidable and compelling front woman. Visually, she’s impressive, a classic horror scene, a walking gorefest, appearing to have had her eyes torn out, and her arms are streaked with sanguine fluid. But this is nothing compared to the vocal performance, which is nothing short of spine-quivering, blood-curdling, demonic roar, a desperate purgatorial scream.

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Miško Boba

They just get heavier and more fierce as the set progresses, and seem to grow in confidence as well as intensity. The set may only feature seven songs, but it makes for a truly obliterative forty-five minutes, and any longer you’d probably feel your skull start to cave in. Tonight’s performance, which is pretty big on new material, is something else, and exemplifies why they deserve to be on a label, and to have PR pushing for their (inter)national exposure. This is a band who are taking black metal – and Lithuanian metal – to a place which warrants appreciation. If you want your metal black, you’ll find none more black than Miško Boba .

Light of Eternity / Dollface Reunion – The Crescent, York, 9th August 2026

Posted: 11 August 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Just over a year ago, York had the fortune to host the first ever live show of Light of Eternity, the new band led – from the back – by drumming titan Paul Ferguson, founding member of Killing Joke, who can also boast Warrior Soul and Murder Inc on his resumé. And now, we also have the honour of being the end point of this year’s UK tour. Only a few days ago, they played the legendary punk festival that is Rebellion, and since that first performance in front of around 150 people, they’ve toured as the support for Ministry, too. We’ll come to just how much they’ve evolved since that debut shortly.

It’s not exactly rammed tonight, particularly early doors – and they are early doors, being at 6:30 and the first act on at 7 – probably because a fair few are still at Rebellion and Bloodstock only finished last night, and consequently, Dollface Reunion start their set to a very sparsely populated room. If they’re disappointed by this, they don’t show it. Having caught them in Leeds supporting Spear of Destiny in May my enthusiasm for seeing them again so soon was only middling. I was beginning to have flashbacks to the two to three-month spell in 2000 / 2001 when I saw Sona Fariq supporting pretty much every fucking band I went to see, not least of all twice in a week when I saw The Sisters of Mercy in Glasgow and then Nottingham. And they were abysmal every single fucking time. It turns out that I simply hadn’t been in the mood for Dollface Reunion when I saw them last time, and they likely suffered from having been squeezed on as late additions before Cheeks, who were nothing short of a revelation.

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Dollface Reunion

Reassessing them tonight, I appreciated them a whole lot more. As the name suggests, they’re a reunited version of 90s alt rock act Dollface, and as such, their set is largely culled from their sole album release, 1995’s Giant. Their third song, ‘Rockstars’, which was a single back in ’94, bears a lead guitar line reminiscent of The Cult, and they most definitely rock. ‘Spaceship’ is announced as ‘a song about a spaceship’, and late on, ‘Metropolis’ storms home as a stomper that sit between New Model Army and The Levellers. Only much better than The Levellers.

On the eve of this brief tour, Light of Eternity announced the addition of James OZ Bowey on bass. This means that Fred Schreck no longer has to multitask with covering bass and vocal duties, and it does make a difference, not least of all visually. Instead of being rooted to the spot (not that there was space to move at The Fulford Arms: Ferguson’s kit pretty much occupied the whole stage), he’s got the freedom to move, not just about the stage, but with arm gestures – he’s actually pretty expressive on that front – making for a much more visual performance overall. I’d even go s far as to say that, liberated from the bass, he’s quite a compelling front man.

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Light of Eternity

Bowey has found his groove straight away, and they are so tight, his thick bass sound underpinning Pauly Williams’ thick, churning riffs. The guitar sound is bright but dense. Predictably, the drumming is immense. And casting my mind back to that first show, Ferguson started the set a little loose, proving that even the most seasoned musicians sometimes need some time to bed into something new. This time around… everything is nailed down tight form the first beat. All the rehearsals in the world are no substitute for time spent on stage, and the benefit of the road miles these guys have put in this last year is evident from the off. It’s true that the Killing Joke comparisons will forever stay with them, not just on account of Ferguson, but Williams’ taut, compressed guitar sound – but Schreck’s vocals d bring something different, and the chug and churn is often closer to the sound of Murder Inc., and this is nowhere more perfectly evidenced than on ‘Worlds Collide’.

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Light of Eternity

And to top it, they’ve managed to write some new material, too. Last time around, they played the twelve songs they had – the two EPs and a further EP’s worth – and were done. Tonight, we get new material, and launching the final third of the twelve song set, new song ‘Sycophant’ rocks particularly hard and they really seem to step thing up from hereon in.

The set list still only shows twelve songs, though, and expectations for an encore are slim – but they do indeed return, and kick off a three-song encore with a throbbing rendition of ‘Dark Hope’. They slow things with the atmospheric ‘Nebula’, and the fact that there are such solid cuts from the first two EPs that they can keep in reserve from a main set that fills an hour and a quarter is in itself impressive. They conclude with ‘Explode’ – which still sounds like a blend of Ministry’s ‘N.W.O’ and Therapy? circa 1994, in the best possible way – to my ears. It kicks ass, too.

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Light of Eternity

Having seen Killing Joke in venues closer to 2,000 in capacity, and Murder Inc supporting The Sisters of Mercy at Birmingham NEC (a show which is featured on the second disc of the reissue of their eponymous album, under the title Locate, Subvert, Terminate), to witness this band at such close proximity – The Crescent has a capacity of 350) is nothing short of mind-blowing, and while writing up my (painfully sparse) notes, I learn that there are people in the audience who have travelled from Sweden for this. it’s not hard to understand why. These guys are living legends – but despite a major-league support slot, playing 1,500 capacity spaces, they’re still building things up from the bottom in grassroots venues. This is positively heroic. And as for tonight’s set… there simply aren’t enough superlatives.

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