Posts Tagged ‘Post-Punk’

Wounds is the band’s long-awaited fifth album – their first in six years. As heavy as it is haunting, the record masterfully blends doom, post-punk, and driving krautrock in a dynamic, hypnotic maelstrom – pushing London’s most exciting cult band into intoxicating new territory.

Wounds is a series of songs about the different ways people live with and process ‘the wounds’ of their lives,” explains vocalist Maya. “A strange celebration of that formative pain we have all experienced in some way. The loss and joy of survival – the celebration of finding others like us, the gift of knowing life comes after fire.”

First single ‘Hangman’s Daughter’ leads the charge and is available to stream and download from today. Opening with a hypnotic techno bassline, the song quickly gives way to post-punk guitars, huge choruses, and vocalist Maya’s magnetic storytelling.

“Hangman’s Daughter is an unrequited love song,” says Maya. “A woman was loved but could not love in return so she is drowned by the man who loves her. She is not lost though – she haunts the killer and he can’t escape her. The title hints at the past, but actually this is a very current issue for women today – how to literally survive when they can’t love a man who has decided he only wants her.”

Watch the video now:

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Wounds was recorded by Mike Bew, on location at Foel Studio. The band could be found working deep into the witching hours, experimenting with new sounds and filling the valleys with cantankerous wails of sound, bursting from amps borrowed from My Bloody Valentine.

"The Welsh countryside has a mystical quality to it," says guitarist Adam. "We recorded in a deep, dark valley; misty days and shooting stars at night. You could wander through nearby woods and stone circles during breaks. Foel Studios is woven into this setting with a transcendence of its own – its storied history includes sessions by Electric Wizard, Hawkwind and The Fall."

Synths on the album are arranged by Berlin-based Bow Church, an influential figure in the dark electronic scene and a long time collaborator of the band. His work weaves icy and atmospheric textures into the songs, layering complexity that demands repeat listens. The horns on 12 Crosses were recorded by a high profile jazz musician who appears anonymously due to label ties.

While meticulously crafted, Wounds captures the visceral energy of Cold In Berlin’s renowned live shows. The album’s arrangements and raucous sound remain true to the unrelenting intensity and atmosphere of their stage performances – every track retains the sweat, urgency, and immediacy of a band performing in the moment.

Wounds is the band’s first studio album since 2019’s Rituals Of Surrender, which Narc Magazine praised for its “crushing doom-laden riffs that assaulted the speakers with a steady pulse of noise”. It follows the 2024 EP The Body is The Wound, described by Metal Epidemic as featuring “hooky melodic songs” with a “swelling heavy intensity”.

Featuring free-jazz brass sections, off-beat structures, techno rhythms, and soaring synths, Wounds is the band’s most ambitious release yet.

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Photo: Rupert Hitchcox

25th August 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

SEXSOMNIA is a name which is both evocative and provocative. Sex certainly sells, but somnia is concerned with sleep-related conditions, including hypersomnia, insomnia, and apnoea, so the implication of combining the two is something to ponder while we pile into this EP from the Canadian darkwave / electro / post-punk hybrid act, joined here by special guest Marita Volodina of Poland’s Stridulum on vocals.

The title track kicks it off and does so in fine style, too, combining all the best elements of synth-oriented darkwave, brooding post punk, and goth, combining a shadowy atmosphere with a throbbing bass groove and pulsating beat that’s perfectly matched to the themes of seduction and desire, the dark allure of ‘forbidden love’. The instrumentation – and vocal delivery – on ‘Vapour’ is, fittingly, more ethereal, a piano snaking through the mix against a brush of an acoustic guitar, but the beats are straight-up stompers, and thoroughly relentless. The interplay between Philip Faith’s baritone croon and the sultry contributions of another guest vocalist, Isabelle Young, are key to the way it draws the listener in beyond the pounding dance percussion.

The ‘shadow mix’ of ‘Forbidden’, which they describe as ‘a deconstructed version of the original track, made for dancefloors’, was, in fact, released first, and it’s quite different. Fully twenty seconds longer, more overtly electronic, the vocals are louder and clearer in the mix, more lascivious-sounding, and paired with the rippling synths and pumping beats, it’s one to raise the pulse and work up a sweat to.

ATTRITION’s remix of ‘Nigrum Viduadm’, which featured on last year’s debut album, Transcendent is altogether sparser, darker, more ominous, more overtly gothic with what one might perhaps describe as vampiric overtones. It works well here because it showcases a very different side of the band, even if all of their sides are dark in intent.

This EP doesn’t break new ground, but does draw together the elements with a rare precision and panache, which sets SEXSOMNIA apart from their peers. As for the band’s name… there’s no danger of falling asleep while listening to their work, but you might just wake up feeling horny afterwards.

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8th August 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Unlike Morrissey, I actually like it when my friends become successful, and when people I know – directly or otherwise – through music, go on to make new music that’s not only good, but gets the attention it deserves. And so it is that Strange Pink, an act consisting of local and regional musical luminaries Sam Forrest (formerly of Nine Black Alps, currently of Sewage Farm (who I covered way back in 2017), Eddie Alan Logie, and Dom Smith and, who’s previously played in Mary And The Ram (who have also appeared here), Creature Honey, (and let’s not forget the formidable Parasitic Twins), have been getting airplay from 6Music and Radio X with their first single, ‘Pencil Chewer’.

It’s not hard to grasp why this track has been picked up on: it’s kinda grungy, but also has that Britpop indie energy and a strong sense of melody, and I’m reminded of the time the first EP by Asylums landed on my doormat pretty much the day before they got a track played on Sunday Brunch. There’s no direct correlation or correspondence, of course, but it’s one of those songs that has a particular energy that makes you sit up, prick up your ears and grabs in an instant. It’s a rare event because while the format of pop has moved on to accommodate the era of the short attention span by essentially starting with the chorus and whittling songs down to two and a half minutes of little other than chorus, other genres still persist in incorporating things like intros and verses and bridges. ‘Pencil Chewer’ is a slice of classic 90s indie / alt rock, with hints of The Wedding Present and that fuzzy, lo-fi vibe of Dinosaur Jr circa You’re Living All Over Me or Bug but with breezy Ash-like melody dominating, and then things turn really Pavement in the final third. The delivery is lovely, boisterous, even, and it hits so sweetly as a summer smash that so nearly made it. It’s clear they’ve struck gold with this formula.

But Strange Pink clearly don’t do formula, as listening to this EP evidences this as fact: ‘Wonderland’ is Disintegration era Cure with vintage shoegaze vibes – think early Ride or Chapterhouse, but also The Charlatans at that time. It’s a slice of dreamy, wistful melancholia with a psychedelic hue, and it’s achingly magnificent. Joh n Peel would have been all over it. In contrast, ‘My Friend and You’ drives in hard with thumping drums, murky bass and squalling guitars, landing between The Jesus and Mary Chain and Nirvana. None of this is to say that it’s derivative, but it’s clear that they’re drawing on their influences here. Every band does to a certain extent, but Strange Pink balance appropriation with quality songwriting – and the latter counts for a lot.

‘Boy’s Club’ (also a single) is a killer slacker anthem, and absolutely nails one of the troubles of our time in the opening lines: ‘You don’t have to be such a dick / Just because your daddy thinks that he’s rich / Don’t have to be such a jerk / just because your daddy don’t have to work.’ It succinctly stabs a finger at entitlement and inherited wealth, and the shitty behaviour that almost invariably follows. Fuck that, and fuck that kind of people. But in the hands of Strange Pink, this is a magnificent anthem.

The seven-and-a-half minutes closer, ‘Nowhere’ is truly magnificent, and worthy of the term ‘epic’. It’s a soft, mellow, indie song, marking something of a departure… but departure is good. Strange Pink keep things evolutionary

In 1993 or 1994 this would have had critics frothing and fans clamouring. Now… sadly not so much, although amidst the nu-metal revival, they may be on the cusp of leading a cultural turn here, because ultimately, quality always rises, and it does seem that the long-threatened grunge revival may be happening after all. I hope so. This is the good shit. Get your lugs round it now.

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Sporting a new-look line up, a long-awaited second studio album, its lead single, and a smattering of rare live shows too, the universe of Hello Cosmos is thriving right now.

With Come Out Tonight slated for release this Autumn, the band’s ambitious sophomore album is confirmed to feature over a long list of collaborators, and takes influence from all corners of the globe with its studio recording sessions taking place in New York City, Los Angeles, Kampala, Leeds, Stockport and Manchester. Produced by Jamie Lockhert at Greenmount Studios in Leeds, who has produced all of their studio records to date, it arrives as Hello Cosmos’ first studio album proper in over 5 years, following their acclaimed debut Dream Harder in 2020. Of the upcoming record, frontman Ben Robinson teases:

“A lot of the upcoming record is about finding the strength to switch off digital screens and go out and live. It’s becoming more and more normalised to stay in, comatosed by ultraprocessed food and algorithms firing shallow dopamine hits, keeping us all hooked on a short wavelength, gradually becoming dumber, hopeless and unhealthy… We all need to wake each other up, get off the cool aid of digital apps, social media and algorithmic scrolling.”

Come Out Tonight is preceded by the single ‘Grind Into The Shrine’, an insurgent statement of searing post-punk and sneering lyricism that rails against the banality of imposed social structures.

“The single is about adulting, parenting and looking for those slim moments of paradise that take a lot of the daily grind to find. It’s about not letting the world get on top of you and finding the time to live, to get out of the house and celebrate life… Life can be so visceral if you get off your arse and go enjoy it. It’s literally there waiting for you. As with most my lyrics I’m telling myself this as much as anyone else” explains Robinson.

HELLO COSMOS – LIVE DATES

AUGUST

23 – Solfest (Main Stage), Cumbria

SEPTEMBER

13 – YES Pink Room, Manchester

OCTOBER

10 – Hyde Park Book Club, Leeds

11 – Brewery Arts Centre, Kendal (w/ special guests Seven Seals)

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Papillon de Nuit’s latest single, ‘Frozen Charlotte’ recently got a straight-up rave review here on its release just over a week ago. They’ve since released a magical, haunting video to accompany it. Check it here:

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Frozen Charlotte artwork

Recently signed to Peaceville, Scorpion Milk have shared their first new music today, alongside news of the debut album Slime Of The Times (out 19th September). The new single ‘Another Day Another Abyss’ arrives with a brand-new video, revealing Scorpion Milk’s darkly imaginative universe for the first time.

“It is about trying to stay upright under the daily flood of catastrophe, the headlines, the numbness, the helplessness. But there’s a double edge to it: the only way to get through the abyss is to become it. To move through the darkness, you have to carry some of it inside you.” – Mat McNerney

Watch the video here:

“I used AI to create the video because we’re living inside the very dystopia we fear the most. The song deals with the psychological weight of modern catastrophe, and AI as both a tool and a threat, mirrors that perfectly. A mirror can be humorous but also diabolical. It’s an aesthetic artistic choice, but also a commentary: our nightmares are now automated.” – Mat McNerney

Scorpion Milk is the new project from Mat McNerney; the founding creator of Beastmilk’s highly-revered Climax album and the subsequent three Grave Pleasures albums. Infused with elements of Beastmilk’s original DNA, debut album Slime of the Times marks the most direct, raw, and explosive evolution of his self-defined genre: Apocalyptic Post-Punk. An eclectic artist in his own right, McNerney’s roots are also firmly in the black metal underground of Finland and Norway, and continues to work in that genre (having formerly featured as vocalist for Dødheimsgard, among others), plus is also currently active with his band, Hexvessel.

Continuing the lineage of Mat’s cult post-punk and goth-metal hybrid music, Scorpion Milk draws from the decaying spiritual core of UK anarcho-punk and 80s post-punk with an opus ideal for fans of Killing Joke, Godflesh, Crass, Flux Of Pink Indians, Crisis, The Fall, and early Sisters of Mercy, yet also set to resonate with contemporary audiences into Health, Drab Majesty, Soft Kill, High Vis, Molchat Doma, Creeper, and Uniform.

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Photo: Andy Ford

21st July 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve been digging GSXT for a whole decade now and shouting about it whenever the opportunity arises. I’m not sure how many people have been paying attention, but anyone who hasn’t has been missing out. They took their timing building up to their debut album, released in 2022, with half a dozen EPs preceding it. ‘Cosmic’ is the first material since Admire, three years ago, and this new single continues their trajectory of extending their repertoire, taking the form of a slow-building expansive brooder.

A cinematic piece of post-punk desert rock, and with hints of recent releases by Earth ‘Cosmic’ tones down the snarling overdrive that’s the duo’s signature sound in favour of something more hypnotic, in the vein of ‘Sonores’. It suits them well, as it happens: Shelly X’s voice drifts and aches through the bass-led verses, floating in a growing swirl of guitars in the chorus before a straight-up rock guitar solo swoops in.

To describe ‘Cosmic’ as commercial would be rather misleading, because it’s certainly no sell-out. But it does mark a significant step. What’s more, it’s absolutely huge, and immediately accessible, making it the cut which has the broadest appeal yet. Maybe now they’ll listen up, eh?

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Christopher Nosnibor

There was a time when there wasn’t really much doing in York, which was particularly disappointing for a city with two universities. But, despite grass roots venue disappearing at an alarming rate, right now, the city is offering up some exciting stuff on the grassroots scene. Tonight, there are three quality live music events on, and had I mastered cloning, I would have gone to all three. The Fulford Arms was serving up a night of top-notch goth and post-punk, while there was experimental and ambient work on offer at The Basement under the City Screen cinema. But I feel I made the right choice plumping for Needlework at The Crescent, not least of all because it transpired that this was to be their last show.

Needlework have only been around a couple of years, and only played a handful of shows, but they’ve made a serious impression, as tonight’s crowd shows. Sure, they’ve got plenty of their sixth-form / college mates down, but this is a band who had built a keen following in their own right. In a previous time, John Peel would have been all over them and they’d have achieved national cult status. Instead, because it’s 2025, they’re bowing out with only an EP (released today, but without mention) and a few shows to mark their existence. But I guess this is how it goes.

First up, it’s Speedreaders. They’re nothing if not consistent., and tonight’s set brings all of the things I’ve highlighted in my previous coverage. They’re tight, but slow and mellow. And this evening they’re slower than ever. After imparting his opinion on Fleetwood Mac being shite in a rare bit of between-song banter, singer David Mudie spent longer tuning his guitar for the next song than it actually took to play it. That’ll teach him to engage in conversation with the audience. My mate went to the bar and returned with two pints before he was done tuning. Still, when they’re back on track, they’re sounding good. It’s the harmonies which stand out in tonight’s clean, crisp set, with clear balanced sound.

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Speedreaders

Divorce Finance sound pretty much the same as they look…. meaning I can’t remember the last time I so wanted to punch a whole band. Actually, I lie: Sleuth Gang, who I witnessed in the same venue a few months ago emanated wankerdom from every pore. It must be something about bands who take their style cues from The Village People.

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Divorce Finance

It’s sort of tongue-in-cheek but not really rockabilly country hoedown hillbilly bollocks. There are people down the front getting down with some boisterous line-dancing moves, and there are plenty who are digging it, but I just can’t get on board with this is corny, gimmicky shit, and the fact they play it well doesn’t get them a pass. All the whooping and whelping is high-energy and perfectly executed, but… It’s just so much cheesy turd-polishing, and the singer’s smug, grinning, cheeky chappie, eye rolling delivery only makes everything so much worse. I found myself feeling not irritated, or annoyed, but – most unexpectedly – angry.

Needlework are simply something else, and what that something is is not easy to pin down. Their entire existence is constructed around a mass of contradictions and paradoxical premises, none of which are reconcilable or make any obvious sense – but this is precisely why they work, and why they exist in a league of their own. They’re really tight and together, but create the illusion of being lose, even a shade shambolic; front man Reuben Pugh is simultaneously intense and aloof. Each member of the band brings something different, stylistically, and in terms of personality – that goes for both their musical contributions and stage presence. Jagged, scratchy guitar work slices across rolling basslines, jittery drumming finds a counterpoint with soft, trilling woodwind and synths interwoven through the scenes as they unravel.

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Needlwork

They’re not really a ‘songs’ band in terms of conventional verse / chorus structures, either, instead exploring routes which take obtuse twists and turns, and they’re unafraid to do slow, wonky, spoken wordy, abstract narrative. They understand dynamics, and the power of jarring angularity. It’s post-punk, it’s jazz, it’s experimental, and it’s utterly spellbinding. Needlework are one of those rare bands that seem to suck you into a parallel universe while they play. Time hangs in suspension and you find yourself on another plane, utterly gripped while wondering what they’ll do next. During the time they’re on stage, something transformative takes place: it’s more than simply five people on stage making music. Needlework conjure aural pure alchemy.

Pugh takes his shirt off to substantial applause, and a big fella in the front row responds by whipping his T-shirt off and lobbing it on stage after helicoptering it above his head a few times. He asks for it back a song or two later, and the band duly oblige.

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Needlework

The set builds to a perfect climax, a monumental whirl of sonic chaos which is electric. And then, that’s it. Finished. Done. They leave us stunned, dazed by the magic we’ve witnessed. They certainly concluded on a high, and one suspects that this is a band which will be remembered, and talked about, for years to come.

10th July 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

The band’s Bandcamp page describe it as ‘the final chapter of a legendary journey’. David Wolfenden, who joined on guitar in 1982 after the release of their first single expands on this, writing that ‘40 years on and the guitars still try to strangle each other, the words still struggle to make sense of chaos and the rhythms drive us to a glorious destination.’

To describe Strange Kind of Paradise as ‘long-awaited’ would be an understatement: it’s an album practically no-one expected. Emerging that the murky milieu of the Leeds scene which was the spawning ground for all things dark and post-punk (and long before ‘goth was even a thing), Red Lorry Yellow Lorry’s early releases soundtracked the grim North in Thatcher’s Britain. They weren’t overtly political but they were clearly pissed off, and along with The Sisters of Mercy, Skeletal Family, and The March Violets (among others), they followed Gang of Four in capturing the zeitgeist.

During the 80s, they put out a solid string of albums and remained firm favourites on the alternative scene, and while they may have mellowed a shade over that time, with Blow (1989) being notable for making a departure towards more melodic territories, there was always a fire that burned through everything they did, and seeing them in 2015 at The Brudenell in Leeds reminded me on a personal level that the dark, brooding currents ran as strong as when I’d seen The Lorries play the Off The Streets benefit alongside the likes of The Mission and La Costa Rasa (and Utah Saints, where Andrew Eldritch joined them for a couple of songs) in August 1993, and they sounded exactly as they had in all the video footage I’d seen before and since.

It had looked for all the world that Blasting Off (1992) would be their final statement, and while the 2015 shows had seen the sale of limited CDs which mentioned the ‘forthcoming album’ Strange Kind of Paradise, almost twenty years on with no further movement, it seemed to be more of a mythical projection than a reality, as likely as a new Sisters album.

But last autumn, all that changed with the arrival of the Driving Black EP and the announcement that the album would follow shortly. And at long last, here it is. And yes, it was worth the wait.

The title track opens the album with the driving guitar and solid bass/drum pairing that is quintessential Lorries, the sound and mix reminiscent of Blasting Off – in particular ‘This is Energy’, but with the pace and determination stepped up several notches. Reed’s vocal is strong – in fact, it sounds the same as it did 30 years ago, although perhaps now, there are additional levels of nuance to his delivery, and it suits the songs well.

‘Chicken Feed’ (a mix of which appeared on the EP) is more melodic, even a shade groovy in a sort of 90s indie sense, the guitars chiming over layers of vocal harmony, and providing a hint of the diversity and expansion of songwriting which sets Strange Kind of Paradise apart from anything in their catalogue.

The acoustic-led ‘As Long as We’re Breathing’ is perhaps one of the most ‘different’ songs not only on the album, but in the entirety of their career, revealing an altogether softer, mellower side, while at the same time hinting at country and desert rock, Reed’s gravelly baritone reminiscent of Mark Lanegan. It’s a beautiful moment, and a truly moving song. ‘Nothing seems quite right / I’ve got a feeling we’re over the hill, but I don’t know because my chest is pretty tight / As long as we’re still breathing’, Reed sings with a palpable air of melancholy.

Then again, ‘Walking on Air’ brings a glammy swagger, but played almost in the rockabilly style of The Fall, marking another unexpected departure from the steely grey confines usually constructed by The Lorries. The same is true of the post-grunge ‘Killing Time,’ which again, is strong on melody, and big on emotional ache, riven with pining, yearning, sadness.

Side two opens with ‘Driving Black’, which, as I outlined in my review of the EP, is vintage Lorries all the way. Driving black, and driving hard. Easing off the gas a bit, ‘Shooting Stars Only’ returns to the vibe of Blasting Off, before ‘Many Trapped Tears’ goes for mid-tempo anthemic, with a solid riff. To clarify, we’re talking more Iggy Pop than Oasis in execution here. ‘The Only Language’ takes the tempo right up again, and is one of the most forceful sonic expressions they’ve made in a long time (even by their standards). Everything is firing on all cylinders as Reed snarls with total conviction ‘The only language I speak is the truth’. It’s one of those songs that gets you really pumped up, and the message has never felt more relevant.

And so it is that as this band – true stalwarts of the 80s alternative scene – finally sign off, we can reflect on how much we have to be grateful for. And as a final document, Strange Kind of Paradise sees them go off with a bang. It’s not a tired rehash, a limp collection of offcuts or unfinished works in progress, but an album that stands out as being quality all the way.

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Christopher Nosnibor

Seeing the same band twice on the same tour – especially twice in the same week – may seem excessive to some. However, it’s not – and certainly wasn’t historically – unusual for fans to follow bands around the country, and even the continent. It’s something I’ve only done a couple or so times myself previously, at least that I can recall, and discounting the misfortune of having seen Sona Fariq around six times in three months supporting various bands in the early noughties. My first experience was seeing The Sisters of Mercy in Glasgow and Nottingham in the same week in 2000. The setlists may not have been radically different, if not identical, but the experiences could not have been more different. The Glasgow crowd was lively, and the band, visible through minimal smoke, were relaxed, and Andrew was chatty. A couple of nights later, in front of a static audience, the band were barely visible behind the wall of smoke and Eldritch didn’t speak a word all night. And so it was that I came to appreciate different locations, different crowds, etc., all have a bearing on the experience, and how two nights are never the same. I also decided to stand to the other side of the stage tonight, and being at the front that not only means a different view, but a different mix due to the proximity of the backline. We’ll come back to this shortly.

It’s perhaps less common to follow bands around now because the cost of tickets, accommodation and travel has skyrocketed way above the rate of inflation, and no-one hitch-hikes or sleeps on train stations anymore.

Anyway: some disclosure. Tonight is personal, I suppose. Having been offered press for the Leeds show before this one was announced, I jumped in, but on seeing a show a fifteen minutes’ walk from my house added to the itinerary, felt compelled to buy a ticket for the simple reason that I love the band, and – as they later remind us – their last visit to York was in 2011.

In the bar before doors, there’s a DJ spinning goth and post-punk tunes, and I get to hear ‘The Killing Moon’ over a PA for the second time in three days. And for the second time in three days, and the third time in as many months, I’m (pleasantly) surprised by the demographic: the first wave goth acts are no longer primarily the domain of those in their late forties or older. It could be that bands like support act Vision Video are proving to be something of a gateway – having discovered bands like The Violets and the whole early 80s scene pretty much the same way I did as a teen, they’re making music that’s influenced by those bands, with clear and accessible nods to The Cure and New Order, and finding an audience who are the age they were… etc. Anyway, it’s all to the good, and tonight’s audience is an enthusiastic one, and with youth on their side, they can dance and wave their arms without worrying about giving themselves a hernia.

The Crescent is a smaller venue than The Warehouse, and when Vision Video arrive on stage, aspects such as lighting and PA variations are thrown into sharp relief: it’s darker, smokier, the minimal lighting is predominantly purple, and the thumping bass I enthused over in Leeds was significantly less present or impressive. In between songs, they offer similar chat, but it’s clearly not scripted, but notably a lot less chat in general. Vocalist / guitarist Dusty Gannon talks faster, seems less more hyped up, rushing to remind us that the current tour is the ‘Death to Fascism’ tour. Given the state of things over here in the last week or so, they should probably be careful about things like that. But more seriously, anyone with a platform needs to be calling this out right now. Because it’s through silence – and allowing ourselves to be silenced – that fascism spreads.

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Vision Video

Notably, the whoops in support of the band’s anti-fascist messaging are louder tonight. It’s a smaller crowd, but they dance harder, encouraging Dusty to find the confidence to leave the stage and be among the crowd during last song of the set, ‘In My Side’.

I arrived home buzzing and without having written a single note during the whole of The March Violets’ set. The setlist was the same as Leeds, the intros were similar… but it was anything but a carbon copy show. On the one hand, the sound wasn’t as crisp, but this wasn’t by any means a detraction, in that it replicated that sonic haze of yesteryear, and even the early recordings. Not having Tom Ashton’s amp at face-height perhaps gave me a better sense of balance, and Mat Thorpe’s vocal were both louder and clearer, which was a strong plus.

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The March Violets

Notably, while the front of the Leeds show was frequently disturbed by a number of ambulant photographers – the usual types, tall blokes in T-shirts and knee-length cargo shorts hauling cameras with massive lenses – there was no evidence of any press or lens-luggers tonight (I exclude myself from this category because while I do now use a ‘decent’ camera, I stick to a small lens and keep to my spot, to one side, for numerous reasons, but not least of all to remain as inconspicuous as possible and not to interfere with anyone else’s view). As a consequence, the audience were free to move about down the front, and the band seemed more relaxed, presenting a different energy. They were still clearly enjoying themselves – if anything, more so. Rosie spent the entire set bouncing around like a pea on a drum, and her energy is infectious and joyous.

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The March Violets

Ordinarily, one would anticipate a more rapturous response at a hometown show: this has certainly been my experience with other Leeds acts through the years. But perhaps Leeds has been spoiled: it was only last year they played at The Old Woollen, while across the border, it’s been a lot longer – like more than a decade (Whitby appearances notwithstanding).

Tellingly, in Leeds, the claps and chants after the main set had been the somewhat irritating (and rather lacklustre) call for ‘one more song’ which has become a thing in recent years. Tonight, there is a relentless baying noise from a crowd who want as many songs as they can get (there were calls for ‘Bon Bon Babies’ and ‘Undertow’ during the set, and there was a fair bit of banterous to-and-fro with the audience). ‘Fodder’ was well-received, but the place positively erupted for ‘Snake Dance’. The band seem to respond to this, and really attack it, making for a blistering finale to an outstanding performance. If the rest of the tour is half as good, people are in for a treat.