Posts Tagged ‘York’

Knitting Circle / JUKU / Small Gauge – The Black Horse, York, 2nd April 2026

Posted: 3 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Since starting out with Horsemusic last year, these nights – hosted at a pub (a classic boozer that for some years was a Tap and Spile before reverting to its previous name) just outside the city walls on the first Thursday of the month – have become rapidly established as showcases for local and regional talent, focusing primarily on York acts, but also providing a platform to emerging talents from places like Hull and Leeds. This, their seventh event, perfectly encapsulates their approach to curation and once again highlights the depth of quality acts knocking around in the locality right now.

Small Guage, from Leeds, are relative newcomers, but they’re clearly well-rehearsed and tight with some sharp endings played with precision. Pitched as ‘Leeds post-punk’, their sound is more mid-80s indie. There’s debate after their set as to which bands they’re actually reminiscent of, and while the whole C86 sound and 4AD are floating into my mind, I run into a friend at the bar who makes a spirited comparison to The Monochrome Set, while agreeing that there’s not just a slew of bands but a whole era that seems to have been absorbed into their sound, which is melodic and jangly, with two interweaving guitars and a singing female drummer with minimal kit – bass, snare, floor tom, no cymbals. The songs are held tightly together by some solid note-on-the-beat basslines. They’re also quite gentle…

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Small Gauge

The same can’t be said of JUKU. Discussing them beforehand, I summed them up to someone as ‘loud’. “C’mon,” was the reply, “That’s not a style, or what they sound like.” Ordinarily, I’d agree, but the description on the flyer simply states ‘bring earplugs’, and I pity anyone who didn’t. This band is nothing short of a rabid riff monster. They play big, dumb riffs, reminiscent at times of The Stooges, The Ramones… with everything cranked up to eleven… They play hard and fast and with a frothing intensity. Naomi sings and whacks her bass and spends the set willing her glasses to stay on her face to the end of each song. They have a few issues with feedback from the mics tonight, which have likely been turned up to compete with the blistering volume of the backline. But if the result is chaos, it’s utterly compelling and immensely powerful. Brittle surf-goth lead guitar lines echo through the squalling wall of noise, and it’s wild to see a band of this calibre – and of this volume – for free in a York pub with a capacity of maybe seventy-five, when they’re worthy of headlining at The Brudenell in Leeds.

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JUKU

Knitting Circle may not be as punishingly loud, but their busy live schedule means that they’re super-tight, and looking and sounding confident. As well they might: they’re on fine form, and in terms of performance, tonight is a couple of steps up from when they played on the other side of town at The Fulfordgate WMC in February. While the vocals are a bit muddy-sounding, and Pete’s guitar is a little more midrange in tone than usual, muffling the Andy Gill-style trebly chop, but it still cuts through against Jo’s bass, which is nicely up in the mix and positively throbs.

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Knitting Circle

The ultra-succinct ‘Create, Don’t Destroy’ (which may be a recent addition to the set, if I’m not mistaken) is a standout among a set of more established standouts, including ‘Safe Routes’, which (sadly) remains ever relevant, ‘The Fox’, and closer ‘Losing My Eggs’. The crowd want more, though, and manage top coax them to deliver an encore – and the unplanned and seemingly unrehearsed instrumental sound like Shellac, thunderous drumming exploding behind a rumbling bass groove and mathy guitar line. It’s a great finish to another great night. 

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 Reviews, Live
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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…

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!

Blue Monday! feat Flat Moon / Trip Sitter / Gents & Ginger / Pedestrian – The Fulford Arms, York, 19 January 2021

Posted: 22 January 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

The third Monday in January has been labelled ‘Blue Monday’ because studies have found it to be the most depressing day of the year. Christmas and new Year are but memories which have faded into the eternal darkness of dull days where sunrise happens after going to work – if it happens at all – and sunset has happened not long after lunch. For those on salaries, after the early pre-Christmas payday, bank accounts are drained and it’s still a long, long way till January payday, it’s cold and wet and frankly it’s all shit. For those not on salaries, the same is true minus the January payday. And that’s before you throw in the prospect of World War 3 and markets crashing around the globe while AI is rapidly taking over everything. So the idea of a cheap – four bands for three quid in advance cheap – gig with an uptempo party vibe and something of a ‘beach party’ theme is genius. Simple, but genius. In terms of marketing and the economy, enticing people out to put a few quid over the bar is infinitely better than everyone staying home vegetating while watching shit TV, and I’ve written variously on the therapeutic properties of live music.

This bill wasn’t quite as therapeutic as I might have hoped. I’m absolutely not averse to fun, but can’t say I’m mad keen when that fun is appended with a ‘k’. Because of a last-minute change from the advertised running order, Trip Sitter and Gents & Ginger (who were originally supposed to be on third and second respectively) swapped places and as a consequence, the first half of the night was very funk-orientated. It’s a matter of taste, of course, and the audiences – it seems there’s a different crowd in the room for each act, which feels strange (I’m accustomed to bands bringing their own fans and not all of them sticking around for all of the acts, but this was like a shift-change in the audience each time there was a switch on stage, and each lot brought a very different atmosphere) – would tell quite different stories.

Reformed for tonight only, former college act Pedestrian bring a ska funk groove, and one song sounds far too much like RHCP to be forgivable. In fairness, they make up for it with a Mr Bungle cover. While they’re tight, handling the complex song structures with precision, the stage energy is quite low and seemingly self-conscious for a party band, but their mates go absolutely fucking ballistic. I find myself cowering beside the speaker to avoid being moshed to death by 6’6" sixth form virgins who seem hell-bent on breaking one another’s limbs.

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Pedestrian

Gents & Ginger offer up some sort of lounge jazz muso wankery involving chords that require eight fingers spanning five frets, and with bad shirts. They play with eyes squinted and looking like they’re inhaling their own farts. The bassist has a knitted teacosey on the head of his guitar, and the last song sounds like Kings of Leon or something. They go down ridiculously well, too. I need more beer.

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Gents & Ginger

Trip Sitter proved a very different proposition, the foursome offering a Latin spin on 80s rock. And they do actually rock out and venture into blues territory with some style. And the last song of their energetic set is Eurovision worthy.

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Trip Sitter

Flat Moon won me over the last time I saw them, despite reservations. Tonight…. No. Perhaps I was listening with different ears. Perhaps the very, very different crowd that suddenly packed to the front created a very, very different atmosphere. They were shouting and dancing and hugging and having a good time, but something just felt jarring, and Flat Moon were cocky and exuberant throughout their set of jizzy jazz-infused ska cuntery.

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Flat Moon

But loving all the bands is not always a prerequisite to a good night: seeing friends and simply getting out is enough. At this time of year, finding the motivation to leave the house can be the issue, and seeing friends doesn’t have to entail talking loudly over the bands, either. The bands could play, they went down well, people came out and supported live music. Good. And that’s all you need.

BirdLands / Cowgirl / Still/Moving – The Fulford Arms, York, 8th January 2026

Posted: 9 January 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

This is the first time I’ve felt so conspicuously old that I’ve felt the compulsion to lurk in the shadows and hope I’m invisible. The sensation is compounded by the fact I’ve done something to my back and it’s agony to transition between sitting and standing, and to pick up my pint from near my feet. It would have been so easy to declare turning out too much effort, but beer and live music usually proves to be the best medicine, and so it is once again tonight.

Still/Moving probably count as a rock band by contemporary standards, but they’re a blend of indie and emo and are, essentially, a pop band. They’re also very much a typical university band, finding their feet and padding out a limited number of original compositions with covers. They cover a song by 21 Pilots. They cover ‘Alley Rose’ by Conan Gray. The singer hasn’t quite figured out her moves or what to do when she’s not singing, but they sound solid, with some nice fluid, rolling drumming. Whether this is their limit and they’ll peter out by the time of their finals, or they’ll evolve , only time will tell.

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Still/Moving

Every time I see Cowgirl I hear something different, even with the same or similar setlists. There are some new songs making their debut here, and the US alt-rock of Pavement with a light dash of country and some West Coast breeziness which define their sound are all present as ever, but now I’m hearing a bit of Dinosaur Jr, too. Tonight is their first time out in a while, but if they’re remotely rusty, it’s not evident out front. And just as was the case when I caught them back in September, they crank it up and rock out, the twin guitars and dual vocals of Danny Barton and San Coates switching back and forth. The contrasting styles work so well. Sam’s breaks, like his stage presence, is contained, displaying a certain precision and constraint, whereas Danny is far more flamboyant, at times going full Neil Young in his feedback-laden fretwork, fully wigging out. Again, the set concludes with an immense, climactic finale with a devastating wall of sound. This is how to warm things up on a cold January night.

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Cowgirl

BirdLands (not to be confused with late 80s / early 90s indie act Birdland – the additional ‘s’ in conjunction with the mid-name capitalisation suggesting perhaps the enactment of a verb rather than some geographical location) have been going a few years now, performing their first gig in 2022, and released their debut album in 2024. And yet somehow, they’ve bypassed me – perhaps on account of their live outings being comparatively rare, with their last performance being in July last year. Small wonder this hometown crowd is pleased to see them.

From the moment they take the stage, it’s clear that this is a band with both confidence and ability, and confidence in their ability, too. With two guitars, keyboard, sax, and trumpet, there’s considerable scope for arrangements, and for a band who describe themselves as ‘Post-Punk-Art-Rock’ a significant amount of jazz and funk happens, quite often simultaneously. The bassist is tight and versatile, nailing down some solid grooves and occasionally slipping in some slap action, and in conjunction with the drummer, they make for one strong rhythm section. There’s a lot going on here, with Arctic Monkeys being one of the more obvious touchstones, and not just on account of the wordplay and the unabashed northernness they exude. The lead singer certainly channels Alex Turner in his inflection at times, but then there are dashes of Brett Anderson here and there, and with the incorporation of yelps and whoops, Mark E. Smith as interpreted via James Smith (of Post war Glamour Girls / Yard Act).

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BirdLands

And while most of the stylings are nineties / noughties, some of the interplay between the sax and buoyant bass action is straight out of the Eighties. It’s not just that there’s a lot going on: it’s a lot to process. But there is absolutely no denying their quality. The songs are masterfully composed and arranged, they’re tight, they’re together, they perform rather than simply play. Now they need to expand their horizons beyond York.

Cold in Berlin / Rhombus / Arch Femmesis / Play/Dead / Flowers of Agony – The Fulford Arms, York, 27th December 2025

Posted: 28 December 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

In my workplace, there’s been an email thread circulating with end of year reviews of best and worst gigs etc. It started around the end of November. I had four more shows to go to then, including this one, and you never know if your gig of the year could be a last-minute entry – especially with Cold in Berlin having dropped Wounds mid-November. What with this and Sorrows by Cwfen, it’s been a stellar year for New Heavy Sounds, showcasing some remarkable work by female-fronted bands who really bring the weight.

I’m here first and foremost as a fan tonight: not only hyped by the prospect of seeing Cold in Berlin again for the first time since 2019, but revved by the prospect of Arch Femmesis, who I discovered supporting The Lovely Eggs in May ’22. Their performance struck me and stuck with me, making them an act I vowed to see again whenever the opportunity arose.

Furthermore, this goth Christmas do is a fundraiser for the Sophie Lancaster Foundation. For those unfamiliar, Sophie, aged 20, and her boyfriend were attacked simply for being goths by a bunch of teenage boys, and Sophie would die from her injuries a few days later. It’s one of those things that’s hard to process, and as disparate as the goth / alternative ‘community’ is in such times – and as the range of acts on tonight’s lineup evidences – they prove that there is solidarity among outsiders.

I arrive feeling like I’ve not properly dressed for the occasion – no painted leather jacket, no tassels, no band T-shirt, no winklepickers. I favoured a woollen hat over my Stetson because it’s fucking freezing and I need to cover my ear as well as my hairless head. I console myself with the notion that my resemblance to Andrew Eldritch as he now looks might boost my goth cred. I’m not entirely convinced it does: the place is thick with beards and hair and leather. And I do mean it’s thick… the turnout is impressive for a cold night between Christmas and New Year, a time when a lot of people are away or hibernating or lolling in a festive food coma.

‘We are Flowers of Agony’ announces the guy with glittery makeup and a Siouxsie and the Banshees baseball cap. We? It turns out he has an entire band on his mobile phone, right down to backing vocals. The result is some kind of overwrought synth pop Meatloaf karaoke. Credit where it’s due, it takes some guts to get up there and do that, but… Agony might be a bit harsh, but it was pretty painful.

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Flowers of Agony

Play/Dead are hard to find online amongst the voluminous links to the 80s post-punk act Play Dead, and are very much from the industrial / metal end of the goth spectrum. The singer channels Trent Reznor all the way, and image-wise they’re strong (apart from the lead guitarist, who appears to have just got off work, while shots from previous gigs show him to be suited and booted). The songs are just as strong, and brimming with rage and angst, with programmed drums and sequenced synths interweaving well with the twin-guitar and bass assault. Nihilistic anthem ‘God is Terrorist’ is more Marilyn Manson than Nine Inch Nails, while the penultimate song, ‘Subliminal Messages’ is more Depeche Mode in its template. It’s hard to fault their execution.

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Play/Dead

It’s nigh on impossible to fault Arch Femmesis on any level. The Manchester-based but from Nottingham electro-punk duo can’t be judged by other bands’ standards, because they are something of a unique proposition. Zera Tønin (who featured on ‘Land of the Tyrants’ on the latest album by Benefits) is simultaneously sultry and scary when she’s singing, but sassy and straight-talking between songs, regaling us with details of her menstruation, wind, flatulence and halitosis, and there’s some banter and audience interaction, too. Lyrically, she’s pretty up-front and straightforward, too, and again, not without humour. They’re backed by some pretty hard beats, and by the end of the set they’re pumping hard (the beats, although Zera probably is, too). There’s an element of ‘what have I just witnessed?’ circulating in the post-set buzz, but that’s part of the appeal – that and the fact they were proper bangin’.

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Arch Femmesis

Upbeat trad goths Rhombus have been going since around the turn of the millennium, and have become ubiquitous on the scene during that time, particularly here in Yorkshire. They’ve built quite a following: there are people here tonight who’ve seen them ten, twenty times, and one guy who they hand a certificate for his fiftieth time in attendance. Their formula seems specifically designed for those whose musical credo is ‘I know what I like, and I like what I know’. By way of an example, current single ‘Running From My Shadow’ leans on ‘Walk Away’ by The Sisters of Mercy for intro (that song seems to have become one of the definitive templates for contemporary bands doing the trad goth thing) before going a bit Skeletal Family.

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Rhombus

“Audience… step closer,” instructs bassist / vocalist Edward Grassby. Towering, burly, bearded, behatted, he’s a commanding presence. His addition that the band ‘Won’t come into the crowd, won’t spit beer…’ felt like a rather disparaging dismissal of the previous acts who hadn’t spent beer, but spent considerable time in amongst the punters. And this is where I realise that the band’s personality is a bigger issue than the derivative sound. Well, not the entire band: Lee Talbot’s drumming and Rob Walker’s Simon Hinkler style guitar are outstanding… but Alixandrea Corvyn’s interpretive dance and air drumming detract from her actual singing, and Grassby comes exudes an air of arrogance which far from endearing, and likely a major factor in why I’ve never taken to them. That and the fact they’re called Rhombus. That said, I seem to be in the minority in my view, as there are plenty who are hugely enthusiastic (at least by old goth standards) for them.

Cold in Berlin just keep getting darker and heavier with each release, and tonight’s set draws primarily on the new album, Wounds, and the EP, The Body is the Wound which foreshadowed it – meaning it’s dark and heavy. It’s also absolutely stunning. Maya seems remarkably at ease, and smiles a lot between songs – but during the songs, she emanates a chilling demeanour, a control and intense focus which is utterly petrifying. Often, she ventured out into the crowd, and glides, ghost-like, between the audience members. She’s glacial, while around her, the riffs conjure a devastating maelstrom. This is no better exemplified than when they drop ‘Dream One’: the vocal delivery is icy, stark, the control bordering on psychopathy. The instrumentation is spacious, with air between the suffocating power chords to begin, until everything crashes in and hits with an almost bewildering intensity. There is no ‘White Horse’… but the strength of the nine-song set more than compensates. There isn’t a moment that isn’t like being slammed by a sonic hurricane, and it’s not just because of the pulverising volume.

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Cold in Berlin

Sometimes, you don’t know what you need until you get it. I for one had no idea that what I really needed was a half-tempo rendition of ‘Love Buzz’ to conclude my last outing for beer and live music of 2025, but Cold in Berlin on peak form really outdo themselves: this is absolutely crushing, the slowed-down bass-led riffing so heavy it knocks the air from your lungs. It’s a conclusive pinnacle to a megalithic performance, and the best possible finale to a great night at the end of a great year for live music.

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Cold in Berlin

And to close my last write-up of a live event for the year, a year which has been dominated by Oasis and festivals and immense arena events, I feel compelled to add that having attended a few academy-size events this year, all of the best shows I’ve witnessed – and I’ve been to fifty in all so have enough to benchmark by – the best by far have taken place in sub-500 capacity venues, and there is absolutely no substitute for packing into a tiny place with no barrier and standing close enough to see the whites of their eyes, the sweat beading, the chords played. And tonight encapsulated this perfectly.

The Ruts DC – The Crescent, York, 7th December 2025

Posted: 10 December 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

The Ruts always stood out amongst the class of ’77 for being that bit different. Sure, early singles ‘In a Rut’ and ‘Staring at the Rude Boys’ were quintessential rabble-rousers, although clearly more sophisticated than the standard meat ‘n’ potatoes pub rock turned up loud kicked out by many of their peers, and on their debut album, The Crack (1979), classic punk bangers like ‘Babylon’s Burning’ sat alongside straight-up dub tunes like ‘Jah War’ and moody cuts like ‘It Was Cold’ which were closer to post-punk than punk. Commercially, they’re nowhere near The Sex Pistols and numerous others, and never were, despite ‘Babylon’s Burning’ going top ten in the UK, but that’s likely because they were never as packaged and required that bit more work to fully appreciate.

What’s even more remarkable is that since reforming in 2007, they’ve expanded their recorded catalogue significantly, with the second exploratory dub Rhythm Collision album, the fiery, rockier Music Must Destroy, and, most recently, Counterculture?. They’ve remained attuned to current affairs and done so without falling into that common pitfall of old folks trying to be relevant. But then, this is a band who were staunchly anti-racist and anti-nazi from their very birth, even if not necessarily in the songs themselves – and where we find ourselves now means that their stance is as relevant now as it ever was.

Another thing is that while they tour frequently, they keep things varied: the last time they played York, they were touring Electracoustic Volume One – a collection of not-quite acoustic reworkings of songs from their back catalogue. It was a fairly sedate performance, with Segs and Leigh Heggarty seated, as they played two sets, the second more electra- than acoustic, the songs interspersed with some moderately lengthy anecdotes. It felt fitting for a band who had – shall we say – accumulated some years, forty-five years on from the release of that seminal debut.

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Tonight is a very different proposition, and with a very different set-list. For a start, it’s fully electric, and while the obvious songs that simply have to feature in every set are present and correct, there’s a substantial portion of the set devoted to newer material – ‘Psychic Attack’ is a standout – and even a brand new, unreleased song, ‘Bound in Blood’. As a consequence, there’s no ‘H-Eyes’ or ‘This Music Must Destroy’ – but we’re rewarded with rarely-performed deep cuts like ‘Backbiter’ and other classics such as ‘Love in Vain’ instead.

I did feel a niggle of concern when Ruffy shuffled onstage with a stuck and looked awkward getting himself positioned on his stool, but once in place, he was at ease, and his drumming was nothing short of magnificent. An old hand, for sure, he’s laid back and knows his kit like the back of his hand.

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There’s significantly less chat this time, too. Ruffy does briefly reminisce about his childhood before the encore – having been born in York, it’s clear he still feels an affinity and affection for the city, and while The Crescent is a top venue that always brings them a voluminous and enthusiastic turnout, one can’t help but wonder if this is also a factor in their tour booking. But less chat equals more focus on packing in the songs, and they play every last one with total commitment. The musicianship is outstanding throughout, again serving as a reminder that The Ruts could always play – I mean really play: not in a wanky way, but the detail to the guitar parts, the basslines, is remarkable, and they’re so, so tight: it’s no overstatement to say you won’t see a better live act. They pack ‘In a Rut’ (still without any debate, one of the best punk tunes ever), ‘Jah War’ and ‘Babylon’s Burning’ Rut’ (also, still without any debate, one of the best punk tunes ever) into the back-end of the set, and after starting the encore with the comparatively gentle ‘Pretty Lunatics’, wind up with a rip-roaring rendition of ‘Staring at the Rude Boys’.

This is one of those shows which is pure quality, and thoroughly uplifting, energising. Yes, they played the hits, but this was more than some nostalgia trip. This was a night seeing a band as good as they’ve ever been. As the lights went up, there was a palpable buzz about the venue. They’ve still got it, alright, and they still matter. Never surrender!

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Utterly Fuzzled #5: Gaza Gig – Fulfordgate WMC, York, 6th December 2025

Posted: 8 December 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Back in September, Navigator Art and Performance hosted ‘A Gig for Gaza’ to raise funds for MAP (Medical Aid for Palestine) and PCRF (Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund). At the time, I wrote, ‘I shouldn’t be here. This event shouldn’t be happening. No, I don’t mean there shouldn’t be a bunch of York acts performing a packed bill on a Sunday evening in front of around two hundred people, but the reason it’s happening, the circumstances meaning we need a gig for Gaza’. But here we are again. The genocide continues. And as the government continue to stifle protest against the genocide– which for some reason they find more problematic than the mass killing of civilians, largely by arresting pensioners with placards, events such as this show that support and solidarity exists in ways which may be less headline-grabbing, but no less significant.

This time around, it’s the curators of the consistently wonderful Utterly Fuzzled events who are doing their bit, this time with a fundraiser for Medical Aid for Palestinians. It can often feel like that as artists, or individuals, we’re powerless in the face of this, and in many ways, we are, but these are the ways we use our platforms and what capacity we have to do something – because something, however, small, is infinitely better than nothing.

It’s a cold and very wet Saturday night in December. The kind of night that would validate the narrative that music venues go bust because they’re not supported, and people want to see bands they know over local acts and so on… yes, it’s been cold and wet in York for a solid month now, and every time I leave the house to go to an event I experience a depressing sense of déjà vu.

One thing that will never engender a sense of déjà vu is the range of acts on offer at a typical Fuzzled event, and this is no exception.

Efemel should have been further up the bill, but the demands of parenting young children don’t sit so easily with being in a band – meaning that anyone who wasn’t down early doors missed out on a treat. On the surface, they’re an indie rock act, who play sad but optimistic and heartfelt songs, with a dash of country in the mix. But that’s only half the story: fairly ordinary on paper, but on stage, they’re rich in quality, with nuanced and well-considered arrangements and a high level of technical proficiency, with a lead guitarist who demonstrates a rare understanding that less is more.

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Efemel

Kar Pouzi proved to be an absolute revelation – at least to me. Anyone who is a regular reader will know where I’m coming from here, and I felt a buzz of excitement from early on in her unashamedly strange and arty set. Switching between baritone saxophone and unusual microphone technique, Helen Papaioannou offers a performance that’s captivating – for me – and perplexing for many. Her setup involved laptop and pedals, with undulating oscillators and drum machines accompanying her unconventional approach to music-making. There’s a lot of breath and discord here, and – at times – some blasting noise. Kar Pouzi sits on the fringes of jazz, with the saxophone and vocals channelled through various processors and loops resulting in music that belongs to the early, evolutionary stages of industrial as represented by Cabaret Voltaire and some of Throbbing Gristle’s work.

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Kar Pouzi

Landing in the middle of the bill, Raucous Dorks are a bit ramshackle, with their set marred somewhat by a very trebly guitar sound and, despite spending some considerable time passing the tuner back and forth, some serious tuning issues. There were moments which offered glimmers of entertainment, but they really didn’t seem to be firing on all cylinders on this outing.

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Raucous Dorks

In contrast, Knitting Circle never fail to deliver, and seemingly find additional cylinders to fire every time they play. Even though reduced to a three-piece in recent months, they charge forth, sonically undiminished, Pete Dale’s choppy Andy Gill / Wilko Johnson influenced guitar slicing across Jo’s strolling basslines. Their songs are songs which touch on a swathe of sociopolitical issues and – now (semi) famously, after a BBC feature – issues rarely broached, such as the menopause, the topic of ‘Losing My Eggs’. Because things are running behind time, their set is abridged, but they still manage to open with a new song, closed their set with the rousing and apposite ‘Safe Routes’ and pack in no shortage of established corkers along the way. They’re raising awareness of menopause, they’re anti-fox hunting, they’re opposed to genocide and war in general, and are clearly a menace to society. They absolutely get my backing, and are without question among the finest of the city’s representatives, at a time when York is spawning some fantastic bands.

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Knitting Circle

Headliners Fashion Tips aren’t from York, but they’re pretty fucking special, as my coverage of their releases and their last York appearance supporting Thank in April last year attests. They’re presenting a different lineup here, and are stripped back to a three-piece. And tonight’s headlining set is barely half an hour in duration, but it’s a brain-frying frenzy of explosive electronica and instruments that sound plain wrong at times – by which I mean the bass sounds like brain-whizzing scribbling synth overloading with treble on minute before switching to gut-blasting low-end the next while the guitar delivers both shards of trebly distortion and weirdy noises more commonly associated with analogue synths. The chaotic, cacophonous racket is all driven by the most frenetic, spasmodic blasts of drum machine. The band positively crackle with energy, and look like they’re having a blast as they pack the songs so tight there’s absolutely no time to catch a breath. The effect is a short, sharp shock, and makes for a dizzying climax to a stacked lineup – and all in a good cause, too. Free Palestine!

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Fashion Tips

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